New York City Memories with Paul

Paul, June 1992, New York City

In June 1992 I went to New York City to visit Paul. We shopped for a bookcase for his new studio apartment that he kept immaculate, we had dinner at a favorite Indian restaurant, and we went to the theater. One day it was so hot that I took a shower at his place before we went to dinner and my first meeting with his new girlfriend. This was the young woman who was his love for the rest of his life.

He was very caring of me during this visit. He stayed with me at the Union Station until it was time for me to board the train for Washington DC where I would also visit my brother and his family. Paul worried about me being in the station alone.

I am so glad we had such a special time together, and that he gave me the opportunity to take his picture. That visit took place nine months before his first manic episode.  After that there were no more opportunities.

Paul’s New York

New York City

Union Square, the lower East side

Paul’s country.

He blossomed there,

he became a musician there

while he learned about the real world

of cold fourth floor walkups,

dealers hustling on street corners

late night gigs, playing for tips in smoky bars

fast walking just to keep warm

and a first grownup love affair

with a girl named, Janet.

I went back there last month.

No, he wasn’t there.

He’s been dead

and gone almost two years now.

The reminders were everywhere.

The square where he first lived as

a freshman at the New School

in the tall skinny brick building.

66 Park Avenue where the Jazz Department

held classes and had practice rooms,

jam sessions,

and young musicians

aspiring for fame.

It was on the marble steps of that building

where he first met Janet

with the long flowing auburn hair

and piercing blue eyes

The love of his life.

No, she was his life.

Beth Israel Hospital

just around the corner.

That’s where they took him

when he first went crazy,

almost ready to graduate

getting gig after gig,

staying up all night,

playing music, drinking Scotch whiskey

hardly eating,

smoking one cigarette after another.

Ah, it was the life

until his musician friend

Bill died of a heroine overdose

and things were never the same again,

Avenue A where he lived after graduation

and recovery from his first break

now teeming with young people

bar hopping

listening to music.

It’s a happening place

made famous by the musical “Rent.”

For me it was filled with old memories

of my boy, Paul

and where his dreams

would never come true.