Peace In the Alley

There was yelling in households, and scuffling in schoolyards, but violence rarely raged in the neighborhood. People seemed not to hate each other enough to bother acting on it.

We were so close together, it would be hard to get away with criminal violence. We heard through walls between houses and apartments, and through windows outside them.

Summer nights, when tempers might have flared, there were ball games to watch on television, and people would turn their TVs to the windows and sit and watch outside. So there was wholesome outdoor entertainment, and a lot of beach chair vigilantes, or potential ones.

Usually, violence comes with drugs, and their illegal trade. In Brooklyn 3, drugs were limited to alcohol and airplane glue.

Drinking was done at home, and presumably was tolerated. It was known as "a good man's failing." It was all right, as long as he got up and went to work.

There were no bars in the immediate vicinity, which was mostly Jewish. Bars were concentrated where there were more Irish. On Church Avenue, you would see cops outside whiskey bars like Buckley's throwing flailing guys into squad cars.

But any neighbor of ours on Clarkson drinking on Church had a good hike home, with time to fall down once or twice, and forget what he was so mad about.

Airplane glue was a phenomenon among teenagers. There probably wasn't enough per tube to cause respiratory failure. Once in a while a guy would get it in his hair.

You could get it at variety and toy stores, and even candy stores and luncheonettes. They sold models just for the glue trade. You had to buy a model to get the glue.

On Friday nights, you could get all the models you wanted for free. Kids would come out of the store with the glue and throw the models on the ground. They were all over the streets. But I never developed an interest.