59th st. Kids, Trains & Tony Snyder-Brooklyn

         Every time I see a train, I think about Tony Snyder. I don't ever remember seeing Tony angry. To me he had a rare set of parents and that isn't meant to take anything away from other good parents. I used to wish he was my brother. Tony was sweet, innocent and so good hearted. We could all take lessons from him in attitude alone. Tony I believe now was truly made in the image of Jesus. That's the kind of thing we don't think about as kids.
         Tony was a tall and lanky kid with a smile that made you smile, no matter how bad your day was, no matter how bad you may have just been treated at home or school. Tony was a light. I wish I knew where he was now.
         Tony Snyder looked like both his mom and dad. More like mom except size. Tony's mom was a very large woman, but I think many people didn't notice her size so much. Like most on the block they too were poor, but she also had those looks of love on her face. She smiled most of the time, but also had those definite worried looks when it seemed Tony or anyone had a problem. She looked so much like she cared deeply. Her brow would be furrowed, head tilt, arms would envelop a person and she would comfort them, speak softly with a slight southern accent.
         Tonys' mom wore print dresses all the time, lowered neckline, puffy short sleeves with all her flesh exposed. She sure seemed happy. Flip flops on her feet, she would sashay to a neighbor and ask how they were doing that day. She had bright red hair which curved with the smiles she brought. She'd toss her hair sometimes and seem like May West was about to say, come up and see me sometime. Tony's dad seemed so opposite.
          Maybe because he worked a lot. I think he drove a cab. While mom looked Irish, his dad looked Italian, so I'm not sure of his heritage, but Snyder is Irish-I think. Anyway Tony's dad was dark featured, brown eyes, black hair and half bald.
He was also shorter than his wife. But they had so much love, so much. When he walked down the street from work, under one arm he carried his steel lunch-pail and a newspaper. In the other, well he usually had a cigarette, and one behind his ear. Tony would run to meet him, smiling, kiss his dad and dad would return that kiss, hug Tony and Tony would grab and carry the lunch pail. He wore a cap, the kind that snaps in front. Tonys' dad was rarely without a cap, even in summer. If his mom was outside she would just stay on the steps and watch Tony with his dad.
           She would make comments to us kids, see how much Tony loves his dad. Oh they're such a pair, she'd say. She would greet him too with such a big hug a person couldn't see his face any longer. Mrs. Snyder smothered her husband with love. When she talked about him, her eyes sparkled. She'd look up to the sky as if she was dreaming and talk about what a wonderful man her husband was, how much she loved him and the love he gave his family. Wow. I was envious. I thought how does that happen?
             Tony loved too, trains as much I think, well almost, as much as his mom and dad. I never knew as a kid anyone who looked and acted like him. He had thick deep dark reddish brown hair, more red and so wavy. It was curlier in front and dripped over one eye. Watching him walk to you, first you see his smile, then his hair and finally whatever he had in his hands. Tony had his hands full most days with a new train, one he just fixed or a piece for a train board. His family and trains seemed to be his life. He made train boards for anyone who asked and that's how I got to know Tony better.
             My little brother loved trains too. But I think whatever he loved was a test, to see what our father would get him, and he got anything he wanted. We were poor, but not when it came to Jimmy. So I was told to ask Tony if he would make a train board for Jimmy. You know what Tony said? With a city block wide- smile, "oh sure I will" he said. Tony grinned on and on and told me how he would do it, how big, add grass and buildings. I told him he better talk to our father first too see how much he'll pay. Tony shook that idea away tell me, he'll make it and take what ever is given! Can you imagine that?
           The following Friday night Tony showed up with a four by eight piece of wood. He cut it down to be a three by eight so it would fit under a bed. Every Friday night after supper Tony stopped at our apartment at 328-59th street, His apartment building was only a few doors up. Each time he brought more pieces to make a town, adding tracks as he could never getting a dime from our father yet.
He did have one condition. He made Jimmy work with him to appreciate a train board and all the work it took. Finally the day came and it was finished.
           Jimmy loaded his Lionel Train set on his new town, plugged it in and the engine took off with all the different cars and a cool looking caboose. Smoke came pouring out, a whistle blew and we looked over at Tony with his train hat on, smiling away. Jimmy held the controls with Tony guiding him. It was less than a month that Jimmy lost interest, and it took about three months for Tony to make that board. I still see his face, smiling as he built that board, wore his train hat and wore a heart of love nourished by helping another kid love trains the same way. I asked my father about paying Tony again and was told to mind my own business, so I dont know if Tony was ever paid. But I do know Tony, and Tony didn't get paid they way most of us do.
        Tony, like his mom, like his dad, cold teach us all about love, happiness and what's really important in this world. It wasn't long before people on our side of the street had to move. The city was tearing down that side, so I lost contact with Tony. He did come to see us a couple of times, at our new apartment in an old brownstone a few blocks away. It was sad to see Tony leave when he did visit. Each time I worried it was the last, and then one day it was the last. Tony Snyder, where are you? Are you still happy? You were my goodness. Thank you.

Across The Field...Those People !

       With a big smile in my heart I was just reminded of a time on December 22, two years ago when a few men showed up one Saturday morning, not that I forget at all. How do you ever forget goodness? This is about those men and the People across the field.
          I want to go back some years. For the people across the field who know me pretty well know about my grammar school principal Mr. Vitalo, the most important man in my life as a kid, one who had morals, ethics, built kids up, stood up for them and did anything in his power to help if you let him. I knew that was key, if I let him. Pride and fear get in the way with people. I wrote a lot on this blog about Mr. Vitalo so I won't delve into that again now. As the years passed no could or ever would measure up to even ten percent of that man until...
          I met a man across the field. I didn't have any idea who he was except some guy with a wife and a few kids who moved in and I hope I could hire one of the boys to mow my lawn. That's all I cared about. I wanted to keep my distance. If I paid then there isn't any connection. If I knew then what I know now:)
         Life is funny that way. It gives what you need sometimes weather you want it or not. So I knocked not expecting anything. This guy comes to the door smiling!
I thought what's he smiling about, I haven't said anything yet. He was welcoming me, but he was new. His wife stood by also smiling. Are these people nuts? Did I spill something on my top-again? Anyway I introduced myself and got to the point.
      He looked at his wife and said yeah, I think we can do that. We made arrangements and in a few days he showed up with his son. They looked around the field, and said they'd be back tomorrow. That first time both guys mowed using  a tractor and hand mower for the steep hill in front. After that it was always Sten, my favorite kid mower then. There is a season...
        As time and years passed I found myself learning more about The Family Across the Field, just as they learned about me. we shared many laughs and that guy who I didn't know anything about, well his name is Witmer as I started to call him, as well as some of the kids. One was just Little Witmer. There are so many memories about the talks, the laughs and the help. You see it wasn't just mowing, it was also shoveling snow.
         Before I get to that, once Sten was grown and moving, his brother Eric took over, and he was my favorite kid mower for that stretch. I love having kids around and they always gave more that they got in return. Each son had his own personality and they put up with me yakking at them. What respect! One day big Witmer shows up with Little Witmer. A hot summer day she had the hand held mower, hair up in a pretty pony-tail, and jeans! Long jeans rolled at the bottom mowing in that heat! What a family. If anything humbles a person that family can do it. There kindness and goodness is overwhelming.
     Winter arrives every year. See how smart I am-smirk. I love the winter and as much snow as we can get after all, I am a viking. The summer heat and I don't agree at all, but give me cold weather and I am so happy. So one day during a winter I called over to the House Across The Field and this nice voice answers, yup Lady Witmer. She tells me hello and how are ya doing kind of thing, chit chat a little, then I ask do you think maybe a Witmer could shovel? Of course but first he's shoveling...wow a professional shoveler!
      I love to shovel too, but sometimes my back doesn't help out. Well one winter night I hear Witmer with a shovel and at that time I have three boys here for a short time. They asked if they could go out and I say yes, but stay away from the driveway, Witmer is working. Oh boy you won't believe what happened next, I didn't.
     It wasn't long before I heard what sounded like yelling and shouting, giggles, laughing and plain old ruckus! Those kids! I walked out my side door,( can't tell ya what I was thinking) dark as night can be except for  aside light, see one of the boys who said faster than fast, "we're not doin' nuttin, it's them" pointing to the Witmers,  and I see  Big Witmer standing there, shovel in hand, turns around, says with a grin, hey Costa, hope you don't mind, we're just having a little fun. Little Witmer just gets back up the hill, says Hi Costa, we're sledding. I was so happy. My first thought was the boys were doing something to cause a problem, but oh no it wasn't.
If I remember correctly just one Witmer was missing, oh wait two. Lady Witmer was usually home, fires burning, hot cocoa ready doing school or church stuff/work! So Big Witmer told my boys to jump on ad take a ride. Three boys got on a sled and the block could hear them yelling with unleashed happiness. With that I just heard from a boy who remembers the Witmer family. He said his happiest times as a kid was living here, and knowing the Witmer, that he learned from them and he keeps them in his prayers. Kool huh?
      Well they all played a while longer, then finished the drive-way. Over the years any children who lived here were always treated the same by that family across the way, and I could always bounce stuff for ideas with Lady Witmer. We've been invited to church many times. I love to hear Lisa Carpen sing most of all and I remember one night near Christmas, Sten was going to do a piece of art work, then Lisa sang. Her voice, her passion is enough to make anyone change, and more over the years I could vent stuff to Big Witmer too about this and that, and how to repair some things. I like to do as much as I can myself, but then a biggie happened.
         My basement flooded. I talked to Those People Across the Field and Lady Witmer said, I'll ask Todd to come over and look at it. So Big Witmer did come over and he saw the problem. By then I had mold about two feet high and spreading near and wide across paneling, What a mess it was.
         One December morning I get a call. It was Big Witmer. Now he called me the day before asking to come see the water tank, get specks etc. information he was passing on to some guy. Well the very next morning I get another call from Big Witmer. he said we'll be over in about fifteen minutes; I wanted to give you a warning. Fifteen minutes!!! Even Batman doesn't get ready that quick! But I did, not too sure what was coming. Then this wonderful white truck pulls up. My dream is to have a big truck, or just a truck, but has to be able to hold kids:)
       So this truck has a guy, a kid and another guy. I was introduced to them as the men from the Nehemiah mission at the Witmers' church. The little guy was a grandson. We all went to work and on top of that Bob found the leak. It came from a cold water copper pipe leading into my washing machine. John, Witmer, myself and the grandson along with a little guy who was living here at the time worked for three hours, ripping out walls, loading scraps into Witmers truck, hauling out all the basement water which was too heavy. Those men! While I know how strong I am that water was too heavy for me, and smiling Witmer said here Costa, I got it. John and Witmer hauled just about all of the standing water out. Bob installed the new water tank, but it was one always helping the other. They brought in tools, found electric lines, water lines and all for the love of Jesus and their love of helping thy neighbor.
      I couldn't believe it only took three hours. There were times I would go in the basement and feeling overwhelmed, sit on a step and think, how am I going to do this; where will I start? The answer came December 22nd.
      Now after all this, a few months ago I needed to have a hole dug for the septic system to be cleaned and inspected. I called a young Witmer. He was actually getting ready to go back out west, but he came over anyway, putting someone else ahead of himself. That kid! That wonderful kid dug about two hours straight. He looked at a map, listened to the zoning officer to learn, and that was after the fact.
 He dug about four feet down, and close to two and half feet across. It was so professional. You knew this was a young guy with a conscience, a work ethic, and values. The night before he and his sister came over for  a visit. He was tanned and tired and I wasn't sure as tired as he was he would be able to dig. But sure enough, I heard that familiar sound, the shovel. In Winter, summer, a special need, the shovel, those People Across the Field are worthy of whatever goodness in life, that life brings them.
    Oh what I left out; I never knew Witmer was a pastor for many years. He never preached at or to me, not one word, but something about him, his family made me wonder. I wonder a lot . So to address him as Witmer for me seemed normal. Then chatting with Lady Witmer one day, I learned he was a pastor. Like a scattered puzzle coming together, it all made sense. Just like Mr. Vitalos' goodness.  Later in life meeting him again I learned he was studying to be a priest, but the war called and that seemed to change his life's direction, but not for a moment his dedication.
To everything there is a season