It’s not there anymore. It was only a short walk from the Chelsea Hotel to Eleventh Avenue. I loved that old saloon . . .
Tag: John Jeremiah
Bogo got the call from Sammy. It sounded all wrong. “Bogo, the bastard brought a crew to the exchange. They damn near killed us, but don’t worry, we still got the goods . . .”
I was seventeen in 1965. The “Sally Bumps” gang hung out at Vinny’s Bar. Their main racket was stealing copper from the telephone company . . .
I had talked myself into a luxurious three-bedroom apartment in a classic Tudor building in Jersey City. It was 1969. Back then, a suit and a little grooming would suffice if accompanied by a few months’ rent . . .
In 1965 we were just short of driving age. Our mode of locomotion was hitchhiking . . .
Featured: Black Interest
- Black History Digit
- Cane Warriors
- So Many Islands: Stories from the Caribbean, Mediterranean, Indian, and Pacific Oceans
- You Can Keep That to Yourself: A Comprehensive List of What Not to Say to Black People, for Well-Intentioned People of Pallor
- Loving Donovan
- Lost Canyon
- Move the Crowd
- Sale Amiri Baraka 3-for-1 Sale!
- The Family Mansion
- Pressure Makes Diamonds: Becoming the Woman I Pretended to Be