Word: brooklyn
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...many homeless people on the streets, and so I immediately thought of the Bowery, and I decided to put a pair of gloves on some poor fellow's hands just as my father had slipped free Danish rolls into customers' bags." Greenberg was then teaching sixth grade in a Brooklyn public school, and the following year, despite his modest salary, he bought 72 pairs of woolen gloves, took them to the Bowery, and handed them out (very timidly, he admits) to the destitute and the derelict. Why 72? Because 18 is the Hebrew symbol for life, and "four times life...
Greenberg was shaped for his role of Samaritan of the streets by his memories of Depression hard times and by the charity of his father, Pinchus Joseph, who owned a Brooklyn bakery. "My father would often include a coffee cake or a sandwich in the bag without his customer's knowing," he says. "He would always tell us, 'Don't deprive yourself of the joy of giving.' " Money was short, and Michael has a searing recollection of losing a glove while helping bring supplies into the store on a bitterly cold morning. "I was never able to find...
Greenberg has witnessed a parade of defeated humanity in his quarter-century of giving on skid row. He has offered gloves to his former professor at Brooklyn College and to a once famous baritone at the Metropolitan Opera, recognized by Greenberg from his days as a youthful walk-on at the Met. Most of the people he meets are confused, seemingly uncertain of where they are or what they are doing. The more frightened refuse the gloves, and he will follow them for several blocks, insisting, "They're a gift. I really want you to have them." One elderly...
COURBET RECONSIDERED, Brooklyn Museum, New York City. Vast landscapes, lavish nudes and masterly portraits in an ambitious retrospective of paintings by the 19th century realist. Through...
This impatience with pseudo science began some 60 years ago, when little Isaac fell in love with facts. He was introduced to the world of information in his parents' Brooklyn candy store. The Asimovs were culturally ambitious Jewish immigrants from Russia, where their son was born, and the boy made a habit of devouring magazines as soon as they were put in the rack. "So that the publications could be sold later without looking used," he recalls, "I read them with a very light hand. When I was through, they would close as neatly as though they had never been...