When I first visited New York, it was surreal in many ways but you know, I liked many aspect of the city. During the time I spent there seven years ago, I was able to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, a heady event for me since I've learned that my great-grandfather, a stonemason, arrived, turned right and ended up working on it during the last years of construction.

I rode the subway almost every day - it was the best way to get around the city - and had a Metro Card pass. I learned how to rush into the cars, grab a strap and hang on tight during morning and afternoon rush periods. I learned what stations were easy to navigate and which ones (like Fulton Street) were confusing. I still think after wandering through the corridors I popped out onto a street in a time warp and past decade. I learned when to stand to get ready to exit as the train rolled into the station. During that time, one of the old 1906 era stations was in use at the South Ferry station because the new one had been all but destroyed by Hurricane Sandy. Although the steps to street level were steep, I was glad I was able to see it and use it because it's a bit of history.

On my first night, I went up to the rooftop and looked out over midtown Manhattan and was overwhelmed when I realized there were more people in all the surrounding buildings than in the town where I lived. I felt very small and insignificant. But, the rooftop soon became a favorite place to go especially early in the morning or at night. I could see the Hudson River and the views were amazing.

I also rode the Staten Island Ferry (like Edna St. Vincent Millay - see the poem below) often. I enjoyed the views of Lady Liberty and the NYC skyline. I also was struck by the realization that my dad had passed through those same waters on a troop ship on his way to Germany during his Army service, shipping out from Fort Dix.

Recuerdo

By Edna St. Vincent Millay

We were very tired, we were very merry—

We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.

It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable—

But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table,

We lay on a hill-top underneath the moon;

And the whistles kept blowing, and the dawn came soon.

We were very tired, we were very merry—

We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry;

And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear,

From a dozen of each we had bought somewhere;

And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold,

And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold.

We were very tired, we were very merry,

We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.

We hailed, “Good morrow, mother!” to a shawl-covered head,

And bought a morning paper, which neither of us read;

And she wept, “God bless you!” for the apples and pears,

And we gave her all our money but our subway fares.

I liked walking in the crowds, crossing at corners despite the traffic as taxis blew their horns at pedestrians. I got to know the neighborhood within a few blocks in Midtown well enough to navigate my way. Some of my favorite stops were the Church of The Holy Innocents and the FDNY Engine 26 - The Batcave - the fire station that lost more members than any other on 9/11.

I visited the Grand City Hall of New York (the one Tommy Makem sang about in "The Irish Rover" and wished I'd arrived while he still had his Irish Pavilion. I would have gone, often.

I visited Grand Central Station, Penn Station (where I took a train to Washington DC and back in addition to falling halfway down the escalator (which I hate and no longer even attempt to ride), Ground Zero, Trinity Church, and of course, both Brooklyn and Coney Island. I like Nathan's hot dogs but trust me, they're best in the original location with the sound of the ocean and the salt air in your nose.

I saw one show on Broadway - Newsies - which was fantastic. I still listen to the soundtrack. It was a marvelous experience even if I was in the cheap balcony seats with the seats in front of me pressed against my shins so much that it hurt and left a huge welt on my leg.

New York is an experience everyone should have, at least once. I thought I would return, maybe to live, but so far I haven't and NYC has changed in the years since I was there.\

Will I go back? I hope so - if nothing more than to fly out from JFK again on adventures farther afield.

Someday - New York, New York.