From
the crime infested streets of Bedford Stuyvesant, New York to the clean, civilized
suburbs of Thornton, Colorado with his loving family.
By
Tracy Mealer-Hernandez
MFJS
Newswriting
Bedford
Stuyvesant – The year is 1968, the time is 4 a.m. The streets are anything but quiet, sirens screech;
guns pop and scream of obscenities all interrupt his sleep in combination with
the sweltering hot air that reeks of garbage, marijuana and burning cocaine. The days may change but the routine of events
stays the same.
It
is still the same Jewish neighborhood he’s lived in all of his life, the
brownstone remains the same and his family remains together. The difference is that Jewish people and
Puerto Ricans are not the only ethnic people living in Bedford Stuy,
Brooklyn. Now the “blacks” have moved in
and so have the drugs, gangs and violence.
If he was going to survive, he had to join a gang and fight, sling, drugs
and dodge death on a daily basis.
Joey
is rich today, at least in his eyes. He
recognizes his life as being one big jewel claimed by surviving life in Bedford
Stuy. He has a wonderful wife, 3 sons and a dog. He lives in a 3,000 square foot home in a
suburb where he knows most every neighbor on his block. He’s a telecom worker, not big money but it
beats the hell out of working the streets of New York as he did during his
young life. He is one of the ultimate
survivors of Bedford Stuy. “All of my
friends are dead.” “They have been dead
for years, none of them died of natural causes.”
Death
Day after day, no
matter what was going on, Joey’s mother started dinner at 4:00 p.m. without
fail and that was because his dad arrived home from work at 5:30 p.m. from a
long hard day at the factory that was located in the garment center of NYC. This week was no different with one
exception. The exception is that his
older sister Miriam had to be hospitalized as she was sick with Rheumatic Fever. Today, April 10, 1969 would be the beginning
of many life changing events, Joey was just 14 years old. Just as mom was starting dinner the doorbell
rang. Fourteen year old Joey answered
the door to find two detectives. The
detectives politely asked to speak with his parents. Because his mother was the only parent at
home and she didn’t speak English Joey was the translator. Without hesitation he promptly translated the
message “…..mommy, Miriam esta muerta!”
He watched in devastation as his mother fell to the floor.
Ice Cream
It was a hot summer
afternoon, the streets smelled of garbage and it seems that the rats were out
before dark. Joey and his friends were
on their way to the ice cream store. Just
before they entered the store, four or five black gang members surrounded
them. These guys were older than Joey
and his friend, at the time they were only 14.
Joey was never sure what they wanted, the last thing he remembers was
getting hit in the face with a pipe then blacking out for a brief period of
time. When he came to his one of his
friends was gone and the other, Raymond, was laying on the ground
bleeding. Joey went to him, “Raymond,
get up, let’s get out of here.” Joey
hadn’t noticed that he was bleeding from his arm. As he helped Raymond into his apartment,
Raymond’s sister said, “Joey, you’re bleeding from your arm.” Joey found that he had been stabbed, slashed
with a knife.
Viet
Nam
The
closeness of Joey’s family provided personal comfort that made the craziness
outside of his home insignificant or at least easier to deal with. His father worked all day and mom took care
of the house cleaning, cooking and everything else a great house wife did
during the 50’s and 60’s. It seemed as
though nothing could permanently devastate Joey’s world as long as the family
remained intact.
It
was a beautiful fall morning; the trees were gold, brown, green and an amazing
fall maroon. It seemed like the start to
a normal day. Until, Cando and Pablo
approached Joey to tell him goodbye.
“What!” Cried out Joey. No one had told him that his two brothers
were leaving the house for View Nam and they sure didn’t tell him that they may
never return. There is no doubt that Joey
became accustomed to the turmoil that surrounded him in the streets at a very
young age. However, the personal
internal turmoil he experienced when his brothers were drafted into the View
Nam War was far more emotionally devastating that anything he had ever experienced
in the street of Bedsford Stuy.
Graduation
There was no more
favorite street activity than hand ball.
Joey was the street champ. He likes
basketball too. He learned to be fast
and accurate. If his parents had taken
the time to visit his schools he may have had a chance at competing in
basketball, baseball or football. He was
strong, fast and very competitive. He
attended Richmond Hill High School located in Queens New York. Every day, he took the J train then
transferred to a second school and walked five to six blocks before arriving at
school. The school he attended was not
as diverse as the schools in Bedsford Stuy and that was a good thing. There was a high class of people who attended
Richmond Hill. There was still drugs and
gang but mostly both were under control.
“I think attending this school was the best decision my parents ever
made.” “Although I am not sure they
made the decision, I think local schools were filled and I got moved.” Nonetheless, Joey graduated high school; the
sad part was that none of his family attended his graduation. It was one of the worse days of his life. Not because no one o graduation, there was no
party and the graduation present was the message from his mother that she was
divorcing his father and moving back to Puerto Rico. Shortly after the house was sold mom moved
back to Puerto Rico, Dad moved in his own apartment on Wallaby Street and Joey
was forced to move in with his brother for now.
Enlisted
And the beat rolls on
and on and on. The Viet Nam War is
ending and many soldiers were returning home in a much different state than
they left: wounded, crazed, lives
changed forever. The same was true for Joey’s
brother Pablo, twin to Miriam, who came home from Nam after serving two tours
in the middle of the hot, muddy, wet, bloody jungle. Joey said that Pablo was not only tired and
wounded physically but mentally he would never be the same. The entire family saw the deep hurt, anger
and fear in Pablo. They also saw that
every day was a struggle for him. Every
day until he was found dead in his small, dark apartment, “his liver gave out,
may he rest in peace.” said Joey. Two
siblings gone forever and then there were five.
Joey was hurt, angry and confused as to where he was going in life. The streets, divorce and Viet Nam one after
another left him with no guidance so he did what he had been shown, he joined
the Army. He and Manny, his friend from
the neighborhood, were approached by a recruiter who told them they would
receive a $1,500 bonus if they joined together.
They bought it, hook, line and sinker.
Problem is that Manny didn’t pass the written test; Joey signed on the
dotted line and entered the Army solo at twenty years old.
Boot camp was tough, but not as tough as the streets of
Bedsford, Suy, “Although it was pretty shocking when the drill sergeant picked
me up and threw me out of the bus by my pants!”
Get up early, run, eat and the constant yelling of one loud ass hole of
drill sergeant. Joey seemed to be on a
road of confusion, angry because he hated the army, missed his family, now
what! He got married, to a former high
school friend. The marriage lasted 6
months and ended in an annulment.
Neither had any regrets. Neither
of them ever saw each other again.
Out of the Arm
It was 1977, the war was over and Joey was eager to begin
a new life. The next problem was that he
returned to Bedsford Stuy for a little over a year. One morning he woke up and decided to move to
Ponce, Puerto Rico. “Why not?” “My mom and oldest brother Cando lived
there.” Outside of army life, this was
the first time he ever lived out of the concrete jungle. He lived there for three years then right
back to New York. There were bad times
and there were average times. The
brightest point was when he had his first son, Joseph Manuel Hernandez. The relationship between he and Joseph’s
mother was the result of a long term friendship of both families, neither were
in love. In fact, Joey, Jr.’s mother
moved to Colorado when little Joey was only a few months old. Joey traveled back and forth to Colorado to
see his son. The first time he arrived
in Colorado he was amazed at how much land there was. He wasn’t real impressed with the lack of
diversity and lack of people. But he
knew he would have to relocate if he wanted to maintain a relationship with his
son. He made the move, got a job. It was very hard to make the adjustment,
living in what seemed to be a whole new world.
The quiet nights kept him up, no sirens, no screams, and no gun
shots. He actually missed Bedsford Stuy
and his family. Could this really be,
missing the horrors that kept him up so many night of his young life? He spent nights alone thinking about his
friends that died, from the time he smoked his first cigarette, first drink and
all the crazy happenings on the streets.
Most of all he thought of all the plans they had made. “We had big plans for our future, none of
which included being killed.”
Happily
Ever After
It was a normal day in Colorado Springs. Joey got ready for work; he was to attend training
at the Adam’s Mark this day. So
happened, we met during the first break of our class. He said, “Hi!” with a big smile. I looked at him, smiled, got my coffee and
walked away. Later that night we both
went to the same happy hour in the hotel where the classes were. We danced; I gave him my phone number. Well, 18 years later, 2 kids, a home and
many, many stories later, none nearly as dangerous as some would describe as exciting, we’re still happily married. Who would have thought
that a guy from the streets could be such a good, husband, father, provider and
all around good person? We’re pretty
darn luck to have each other. Oh, and by
the way, we’ve been back to New York, he has never returned to Bedsford Stuy,
nor has he ever wanted me to visit the neighborhood he grew up in. “The past is the past; I don’t ever want to
go back.”
The
End
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