That neighborhood lives on in stories we tell, songs we hum
Scent memories: yeasty pizza, toasted bagels (H&H at dawn),
We lived above a Cuban Chinese joint – our noses serenaded every night, pork fat and chilis, Jeff stop in for beans and rice after you score a toke toke on the corner
Espresso so strong you could cop a buzz just passing by the cafe
And the babies
Fancy babies in fancy carriages steered by weathered warhorse nannies
Fussy babies in strollers pushed by au pairs in skinny jeans
That one chill baby, always with both parents – they’d stroll at their own pace, lived just up the block from me
Everyone knew them, we nodded or passed the peace sign in greeting
Then one evening I came home and
my neighbor was dead
shot
and suddenly the dad I saw every day walking with his wife and son became a headline
The personal became universal
He left a legacy of beauty, but in that moment
he just a dad no longer pushing a stroller, our neighbor, John Lennon
(c) 2024 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
True story. I lived half a block from the Dakota in those days, in a run-down hotel called The Park Royal., I played weeknights at the gay bar downstairs. My friend Jeffery French would come by, drunk as a daffy skunk. Eventually, he found the love of his life, Christopher Kennedy, who nursed Jeff at home as he died of AIDS. We lost Chris this week – a 35-year AIDS survivor. More about him to come, but this prompt from What’s Going On? brought so much back to me. Gonna go cry after I post this. Peace, y’all, Amer
Sharp Little Pencil 
Sherry Marr
Oh my goodness, Amy! You brought this prompt home for me. I adore John Lennon, cant believe you lived so close. How he adored Sean. And the story of your friend who nursed his love to the end. So sorry for such big losses, such stories of love and pain. And always, the music, bringing the memories which always bring tears. Thank you so much for writing to this prompt with such an amazing story. You made the news story personal.
Sharp Little Pencil
Sherry, it’s so good to hear from you. This was a great prompt, so thanks. And yes, John and Yoko were neighbors. The neighborhood changed overnight, everyone was in shock and the sidewalks were overrun with pp from out of town wanted to see the Dakota. One business simply put up that nice photo of John with the I Love NY tshirt, framed, in the front window. It’s probably still there.
Beez
Been thinking of you since we heard. Hugs, hugs in these tough times. ❤️
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks, Sue. It has been weird, being away from all our Madison loved ones at this time. Christopher was such a part of Lake Edge. I talked with his partner, Tim, and he recounted how Chris would go on and on about the Zoom Bingo group, how much he loved coming to virtual worship. We were friends for over 40 years. I do wish I could have seen him before he died, in person. We Zoomed a lot, though, so we did have some good times! Thnaks. Amy
Beez
Waited to connect in this way. Was missing Christopher before the news. Thankful for having his presence in our midst. Be well.
Mary
What a powerful reminiscence. When the universal becomes the personal, that is when it hits home. You experienced it first hand. Thank you so much for sharing with your gut, with your heart.
Sharp Little Pencil
Mary, thanks so much. It was such an odd circumstance, one of many in my life, really. I feel like all of us have those moments of connection. Thanks! Nice reading you as well, Amy
susanstoo
Wow! From Scents and babies to a gunshot making “just a dad” universal– and a current loss. Your poem (and note) left me in tears. You made “Neighborhood” so sensual, so real. Thank you. And thank you, too, for your welcome comment on my poem!
Sharp Little Pencil
Susan, thanks for this. Weekends are busy bc Lex is a pastor, but Mondays are an extra day for me to check comments. I am happy we are able to read one another’s work. Man, it was a rough patch, we were all in mourning. Thanks, Amy
Brother Ollie
Losing someone is hard, losing someone to murder is “next level”…I know. Peace to you, and this poem is a blessing to read.
Sharp Little Pencil
Ollie, you nailed it. Funny how “stars” become just regular folks when you see them on a regular basis. Ironically, Mark David Chapman was sent to Attica… where Lex and I lived when he was called to a church there. Hmm…
Average Poet
Hi Amy, very visceral imagery, definitely captured NYC in all it’s glory. I really enjoyed reading this, a shame it had to happen.
Sharp Little Pencil
Yes, a real shame. So much is stolen from us because guns are on the streets… and NYC was a magical place in those days. Affordable, walkable, the best years of my life. Peace, Amy
Truedessa
Kleenex time – The personal became universal…sigh…the day the world cried in grief, the day the neighborhood changed forever. Wishing you Peace in your loss
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks, honey. I appreciate it. Coming soon will be a portrait of a different kind of loss, my Christopher. A
Suzanne
Oh gosh – you handled your recounting of these memories so beautifully I feel your sorrow over the loss of your dear friend. The shooting of Lennon affected us all. It must have been extraordinary to be so close to the event.
Sumana Roy
“The personal became universal” Oh oh oh…What a jolt! Your lines made me tearful, Amy. Oh!
Rall
Interesting reminiscence from your colourful life. I am certain you have many other stories. Looking forward to them