Welcome to Brighton Park...

Brighton Park is the name of the neighborhood I went to live in after my stay with my Dad's aunt. It was and still is a neighborhood made up of hard-working people. The majority are hispanic. The homes are a mixture of newer brick bungalows and older frame homes. Ours was a brick bungalow.

I did not know what to expect once we lived there, but one thing was for sure, I was done taking krap from people. I made up my mind to stand up for myself no matter what. My determination was put to the test the first time I went for a bike ride around the neighborhood. Everything went fine until I was returning home. As I rode on the sidewalk three houses away from mine, a punk jumped out in front of me and grabbed my handlebars, saying how he was the boss around there and who was I? I told him I was the guy who was going to beat the hell out of him if he did not get out of my way. Well, I don't know if I scared him or what, but he moved and I went home feeling his eyes all over my back as I rode my bike to my house. As time passed I met more of the guys around there and I don't know if it was how I looked or spoke, but they wanted to know where I came from. I told them I was from the West Side and then everyone wanted to be my friend. I guess even back then the West Side was viewed as a tough place. And I believe it was since when I went to live in Brighton Park I was not intimidated by anyone. You see, I was used to dealing with Puertoricans, Mexicans and Blacks any of which would kick your ass just for looking at them the wrong way. So these mainly white boys did not scare me in the least. So even the girls wanted to meet me. I did not have a girlfriend to speak about. There had been a girl I liked just a few weeks before that....

This is a complicated story. This all took place when I lived on 26th. with my Dad's aunt. This girl who I knew ever since we were little kids started to look different to me. I was beginning to like her. My Dad's aunt did not help matters either since she would always try to put us together. Now I must add this, this girl was my Dad's cousin, my 2nd. cousin. No the aunt I was staying with was not her mom, she was her aunt also. Her dad had died in 1963 and her mom had remarried. Well, we started to talk more and more. We did like one another but we were cautious since we both had been brought up as Jehovah's Witnesses. We were afraid to do anything other than to talk to each other. I was no longer in school but she was. She attended Harrison High School and I would walk there and then we would walk back home together. Actually, I never got to walk with her all the way home since she was afraid of her mom. We both attended the same church and after the religious meetings we would meet outside and talk. Well this did not sit well with the elders of the congregation so they called a meeting of the parents. I thought it was so stupid since we did nothing more than talk. We were told not to leave the meeting and go outside to talk any longer. Well, we were spied on after that. I still went to the school and met her and her friends thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend so we let them think so even though we did nothing other young people our age were doing . We did not even hold hands. So you can easily figure out we never dated alone, kissed or anything . We however were called before the elders again. Her mom wanted me to stop talking to her daughter. No this was not because we were 2nd. cousins, rather it was because she claimed I was a gang member who used and sold drugs. I could not believe what I was hearing. Here I was losing my eyesight, being threatened by gangs, and now the adults who I looked up to were saying vicious lies about me. Well it got pretty bad. One evening I was going up the back stairs to the building I was staying at, when the police grabbed me and did what they do. I had no idea what was going on. The Ladies who lived on the first floor of the building heard all the noise so they came out and once they saw me they asked what was going on. The cops said that someone called and said there was someone trying to break ing to the apartments. They explained how I lived there and they knew me. So they proceeded to take me up to my apartment. When we were at the top of the stairs the mom started saying in spanish, "They finally got you!" I immediately realized she was the one who called the cops. I found out later from her other daughter that I was right. I never did anything wrong to this lady or to her family, but she hated me. Hated you think, I am using to strong of a word? Well, her daughter the one I liked told me that her mom told them they were moving to Texas. I thought she was joking. She said that her mom was going to do anything and everything to keep us apart.

I could not believe it when they were gone. We never even got to say bye. Yes, I realize we never touched, kissed or anything, but it still hurt. I felt something for her and she said she felt something for me. Maybe nothing would have ever come from it, and her mom made sure of that. I did not hear anything for months and then one day I got a letter from Texas, it was an invitation to her wedding along with a letter. A very short letter. I was shocked. I guess that was the first time my heart was broken.

I moved on with my life and I must say it turned out beautifully.