Just Below

I thought of those geological pictures in the dinosaur books I read as a kid, where the different periods of natural history were pictured like bands, layered on top of each, Neolithic, Paleolithic, Jurassic, etc. The pile of strata, all a different rank, a distinct time, yet those borderlines distinguishing each were obviously times of overlap. The geological record blends, just like social history. Do the stratum beneath the city blend? Here are the upper strata, the asphalt ripped open, what looks like water pipes, still a good distance above subway tunnels, even sewers – one always envisions catacombs like in Batman comic books. How much higher above the actual bedrock of the city founded here do we drive and walk?

Upside Down Stop

Pots? Where? Oh, Stop – do you really have to stop if the sign is not properly affixed? Looks like a make-shift sign, some kind of temporary traffic control solution now gone awry. Did it have something to do with the blizzard-like blast of snow, the grimy pile by the curb now the only remaining remnant? Pushed to the side, getting ready for the spring. Glad that’s over with.

Long Fallow, Now Gone

 

When I saw the lot of fresh rubble, all I thought was, darn I wish I saw the implosion, the destruction or perhaps in this case, the de-construction.

This store has been shuttered a long time, has to be more than five years. American hardware, a retro-Native American marquee. When it snowed, the sidewalk in front went unshoveled, causing a pedestrian hazard. All the retailers who were on this block have left, citing as a major reason this large, closed structure, an anchor of retail death. Most recently I’ve blogged about Made with Love leaving.

I remember when this hardware store was opened. I only went in a couple of times. There were no aisles; I think they mainly did wholesale but I could be wrong. The front was a counter, you asked for what you needed (I needed refrigerator light bulbs) and they went in the back, brought out what they had and you decided. I also remember the price sort of being made up on the spot; just give me two dollars sort of thing. It was pretty old school. But it was also dingy and dusty and a little unfriendly (totally the opposite to Downtown Hardware around the corner on Newark).

 

 

So, now we get to live with the rubble removal and the construction and whatever new building will be here. Jersey Avenue between Newark and ole Railroad Avenue has a nice hole in its Eastern middle. Meeting our new gap. I love the rubble, the debris a sign of what used to be, as temporary as the actual emptiness but even if only remnants are left that emptiness is not so acute.

 

 

 

 

 

So, I might have griped about the extraordinary amount of time this building was allowed to stay fallow, but I will still miss this painted boards of the store marquee, so mid-20^th century and in a way, gives Jersey City its charm, things that linger long after their welcome.

 

 

 

 

America's Response Monument

 

The America's Response Monument – subtitled De Oppresso Liber – apparently, was located in some nearby lobby and is scheduled to be part of the Ground Zero Memorial. It is behind a fence by the WTC PATH station. The Freedom Tower, which I believe it is called, has risen in our horizon and is still being completed – I do not know the latest announced date of the opening– so I do not know if where the monument is now will be its permanent home or this is just a resting stop before it is again moved. I liked the idea thought however temporarily this statue is located behind a fence, amid construction equipment.

 

 

According to the wiki page, the bronze sculpture“commemorates the servicemen and women of America’s Special Operations response to 9/11, including those who fought in the early days of Operation Enduring Freedom, which led to the initial defeat of the Taliban in Afghanistan. It was conceived by a private citizen, sculpture Douwe Blumberg, and commissioned by an anonymous group of Wall Street bankers who lost friends in the 9/11 attacks.”

Initial defeat? Is that some kind of military-speak for temporary set back at the beginning of the longest war in American history?

Military monuments spark a complexity of emotions in me and yes initially I feel patriotic, and in awe of the honor and bravery commemorated. I believe or at least hope that ultimately justice was achieved. How can you not experience those feelings for the Unknown Soldier or the Vietnam War Memorial (as examples)?

Wars are result from leadership failures – on both sides – the old and rich lead us to war, the young and poor die. It is always thus. I have posted about 9-11 many times and there has been too much bloody water under that bridge for me to be in a memorial-mood. I don’t feel solemn respect, I feel an unquenchable anger.

I’m not saying there shouldn’t be a memorial. I just can’t let go of the bitterness, which is not just about Bush II or America, but the other side too. Islam and Islamic governments share blame; Islamic peoples were let down by their own leaders – Bin Laden came from the upper class.

No matter how at fault are American – as well as Israeli and European – policies are, to say they are solely to blame for all the problems in the Mideast comes from is a dishonest and destructive idea. After 9-11, there was no other choice but to invade Afghanistan. It’s everything that happened before – and after – that continues to gall.

The opening chapter of the conflict had Special Forces using horses to traverse the Afghanistan Terrain, which this sculpture immortalizes. It is a vivid depiction that conveys bravery and determination. The first line of the inscription is “cowardly attacks” and I remember Bill Maher getting lambasted and forced off broadcast TV in the land of the free when he disputed the concept of someone fulfilling a suicide attack as a coward. Using the C-word not only invoked that ten year old controversy but seems to diminish the violence and tragedy of 9-11. Name Calling seems out of place, seems contrary to honor and bravery and the hallowedness of this spot, where 3,000 died because they went to work on one day. The sculpture memorializes an overlooked chapter and ignored heroes of the conflict. To embed saber rattling in the memorial cheapens the sincerity of feeling it intends to convey.

 

But in spite of the context, it’s a heart-stirring statue. The still-life is infused with action; there’s no way its suggestion of movement cannot affect. In its present location, the horse seems minutes away from leaping over the fence.

 

 

 

 

 

Brunswick Street Garden Tastes Spring

Luke is one of the gardeners at the Brunswick Street Community Garden. I pass by all the time and there’s an even an occasional blog post, a picture through the fence with a (hopefully) witty and/or insightful caption. Seems though I’ve never been by while there were people there.

 

 

 On Saturday I walked by and the gate was opened and Luke was busy cleaning up a flower bed outside the fence, beautifying the space between the sidewalk and the fence. He was getting ready for the year’s first blooms; spring flowers, such as crocuses and daffodils.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday was a snow storm – windy, wet – cold wintery mix –drearily annoying. Saturday though here comes the sun, rapidly melting the snow; no need for the scarf or gloves. Why zipper up the jacket?

Early Spring. Luke is out getting the garden ready. His home is one of the ones adjacent to the community lot. It might still be too early for most planting, even to begin serious tilling but there is some gardening activity to be done. Technically, it’s the first gardening suitable day of the year.

 

 

 

The garden abuts the embankment. Ivory spreads up the stone wall of this vestige of America’s glorious Rail Road past. Cats make the garden their home. Some are semi-feral, others just local housecats whose owners grant them outdoor roaming privileges. Somebody feeds the cats every day. A large white cat sits on one of the hutches; others are nearby, secluded in sparse branches. They survey their territory, striking fear in the hearts of the Brunswick Street rodent population.

 

 Jersey City dirt is filled with lead, a legacy of our industrial past and system of potical bribery. This garden is mainly for flowers; vegetables are grown in above ground planters. Lots are assigned to neighborhood residents, there’s a waiting list. The popularity of the impulse to grow something seems unabated.

Except for boughs ripped from a tree, there was little Sandy damage. The sign was knocked off the fence. Flooding hit this neighborhood hard. It’s the Downtown lowlands after all. No basement was immune, but the period of ultra sogginess had little impact on Brunswick soil. Luke says he’s seen worse damage from other storms. Dried, dead flatten vegetation and brush and the various bits of debris scattered around the patches of snow indicates that the garden seems untouched since October. Sandy came at the end of the harvest, certainly followed the life cycle of the flowers and bushes of Brunswick Street Community Garden. During the summer, there’s so much life here. What’s left behind, emerging as winter wanes, reminds us of seasons yet to come

 

 A taste of spring, amidst the remains of last year, Luke the gardener sees what can be planted. New life is contained in the dirt beneath the decay. We have to wait to see what will bloom but hope is always here right now.

 

 

Exchange Place Calling

 Wasn’t there a row of open kiosk pay phones at the Exchange Place Path Station, a bank if you will? There, in the southern most corner, one last remaining open-air phone booth, a two phoner, with the WTC memorial in the background. What a nice view to call my baby and see if I should pick up milk on the way, oh wait a second. What century is this? That’s not the WTC, that was destroyed more than a decade ago, it’s the WTC memorial being constructed and the kiosk is empty, devoid of pay phone. I’ll have to use my cellphone. Oh crap, I’m in the PATH station, no reception.

 

The view is still nice. A woman feeds a hovering flock of sea gulls. People linger here, finishing their cup of coffee, and of course, leave litter where the phone used to be, like stones left by mourners on the tombstones in a Jewish cemetery. To be fair, because of security, there are no garbage pails within the PATH system. Safety first and besides, Jersey City has never been litter adverse.

 

 

 

I seem to recall that you could make a pay phone call without going through the turnstiles, but I guess that’s no longer true, you have to enter the PATH system to go to empty kiosk where pay phones used to be. Oh wait, in the other corner is an actual working pay phone kiosk. I’ve noticed this before, half the pay phones being removed – which leaves a half the number of pay phones and a glass half full optimistic attitude that the cell phone fad just might fade. Or maybe they just haven’t gotten around to removing this one yet. I know there were more phone kiosks here once upon a time

 

 

 

 

Exchange Place PATH only recently re-opened post Sandy. There is still abundant repair construction apparent. No one was using the working phones, not even for a place to leave litter and through the windows no seagulls were in view.

 

 

 

Our Lady of Medigorje Reappears

 

You wanted more Jersey City Catholic esoterica, you got it. Okay, maybe nobody really wanted but I keep finding these stories. This odd but true tale you will only read here.

The statue of Our Lady of Medigorje. Mysteriously missing from Saint Mary’s on Second Street was just mysteriously returned two weeks ago.

Saint Mary’s church is home base for the annual downtownSanta Cruzan festival in May. As its name might indicate, the church, which has a large Filipino contingent amongst her parishioners, has a diverse devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, aka, Mother of Our Lord, aka, Mother Mary.  Dozens of different Mary icons are featured along the walls of the church, most of which get paraded around downtown during the Santa Cruzan procession.  The church houses one of the largest collections of different Marian Icons to be found in the state of New Jersey.

 For more than 20 years, every Monday at St Mary’s, a special devotion to Our Lady of Medigorje is held, following the 7:15 PM mass.  A simple service, a Rosary is recited – the Joyful Mysteries, because it is Monday – followed by the Magnificat and the Litany to Our Blessed Mother. Apparently, Our Lady of Medigorje has no special prayers – is held in a special side altar. The statuette – it’s maybe twelve inches tall – was there for all that time, until two years ago, when it suddenly and inexplicably went missing.

Two weeks ago, somebody had left the statue in the rectory of St. Mary.  The speculation was that a parishioner had borrowed the statue and maybe his or her petition was granted, or maybe he or she passed on. The icon vanished and just reappeared.

Like every Monday, the rosary and other Marian prayers were recited. Our Lady of Medigorje was always there, but now her likeness had returned home.

 

Who is she? Well, do your own googling but here’s some Wiki highlights: Our Lady of Međugorje (also called Queen of Peace) is the title given to the Blessed Virgin Mary by those who believe that she appeared to six Herzegovinian Croat children in Međugorje, Bosnia and Herzegovina (at the time Yugoslavia). The apparition first appeared on June 24, 1981. The children describe her “as 18 to 20 years old, slender. Her face is long and oval with black hair. Her eyes are blue with delicate eyelashes and thin black eyebrows. She has a nice, little nose and rosy cheeks. She has beautiful reddish thin lips and her smile is more like some indescribable gentleness. It’s visible as if somehow under her skin. Her simple dress is bluish-grey and falls freely all the way down to the little whitish cloud on which she is standing. Her veil is pure white and covers her head and shoulders.”