A Place to Go

The year was 1974. I was teaching at a small school on West 45th Street. I had a wonderful 6th grade class. The students were bright, creative, and they had a real sense of humor. The school was on the same block as the Actor's Studio, the Manhattan Plaza had just been completed, and on nice days I could walk home. I loved going to work.

One day, a student named Christopher came to school a little bit late. I asked him the reason for his tardiness, and he told me that the night before he had attended an opening of a movie in which his father had a role. I asked him the name of the film, and he replied, "The Godfather: Part II." "Oh," I said. I asked, "What part did your father have in the movie?" He replied, "Frankie Five Angels." I did know that Christopher's father was the playwright who had written "Hatful of Rain." But, I did not know that he was in the film, "The Godfather: Part II." So! Christopher's father was "Frankie Pentangeli;" interesting... The Godfather: Part II, was released and it opened at a Loew's theater on Broadway. It received phenomenal reviews and I was excited to see it.

Soon thereafter, the school had parent-teacher conferences. I am lucky Christopher was an excellent student. I do not think I would have had a comfort level sitting across from that father and giving a bad report. Mr. Gazzo had written a note to me during that school year asking permission for his son to be excused early on an October day and I saved the note. It was not just a signed note, it was an autograph.

A few months later, the Gazzo family moved to Los Angeles. Christopher kept in touch with all of us through letters he sent to the school which were addressed to me. In one letter, Christopher asked me if I was still singing because I was awful. I was a teacher who sang while she taught? He said he was going to a school 20 times better but he would rather be going to our school because he missed all of us.

I think about all of the students I had in so many classes over the years: Eddie, who died of a drug overdose in Washington Square Park, David, who fell off the roof of his building one hot summer day when he was up there with his brothers playing ball, Debbie, who was crossing 9th Avenue and was hit by a car, and Brenda, whose mother we saved.

Larry David was asked why he still works. He clearly does not need to work. He said his mother had told him many years ago that we all need to always wake up in the morning and have a place to go. I had a place to go.