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Maybe he did, or maybe he didn’t, but whether it’s legend or fact, the story goes that young George Washington chopped down a cherry tree. But in Brooklyn, after journeying to America from Bari, Italy, my immigrant grandfather—aka Poppa—simply slept under his. His Eden was a small backyard wedged between two other homes on Seventeenth Street between 9th and 10th [...]
The phone call came on a steamy summer morning, while I was stuck in traffic on the Central Park transverse, the Met’s Temple of Dendur off to my right. A nurse from my father’s hospital equivocated her way through the call. He had been in failing health. “Where are you now?” she finally asked, with some urgency. “You should see [...]
