East Village, New York 1960-1970

My memories of the East Village in the '60's are still so vivid and so firmly fixed in my subconscious that they have become a large part of my dreams at night. I find myself walking down familiar streets searching for the places that I had known, trying to find my love from long ago.

1963
Marilyn Monroe was no longer with us, she had died the year before, but she was still larger than life. The Kennedy's, a most charismatic and handsome couple were in the White House as we entered into the brief era that was later to become known as Camelot. The Beatles had just come over from England and were about to explode upon the American scene. The Beatniks were now being replaced by the next new wave who were being called the Hippies. The mood was one of energy and excitement. Jack and Jackie Kennedy were setting the mood and the fashion of this period. Jackie Kennedy, had the White House redecorated, and we were able to see by way of TV, the class and the elegance with which it was done. We were experiencing a rebirth of glamour and optimism along with a lively sense of humor and joy. And it was spreading around the nation, sweeping the rest of the world along with it.

It was a little before this time that I had been living in Greenwich Village. But with the rising rents, many of the artists and writers were looking to the area across town. The East Village was becoming the place to live and work.

1900's
The East Village was part of the Lower East Side, which at the turn of the century was a thriving new home for the immigrants who were pouring over from Russia, Poland, Italy, Ireland and China. The largely Jewish community was coming over to escape the pograms in Russia, and were moving into the packed tenements around Delancy Street. It was a crowded and bustling life and we can still see some remnants of those days around Orchard Street. The adults along with the many children and women worked in the many industrial buildings that dotted the area around Canal Street and up towards 14th Street. They worked and sacrificed toward their vision of the American dream. And many were able, by sheer hard work and education to escape the ghettos and branch out to the out lying areas of the Bronx and Brooklyn. Some scattered off to other parts of the country. A special few, who by enormous effort and the determination to better their economic position in life, moved to the next level towards that American dream and to such places as Scarsdale and Greenwich, Ct. which were then the growing bedroom communities in the exclusive suburbs.

In the 1960's, a few of the third generation of these earlier immigrants, feeling secure in their newly inherited wealth and position, were returning to the East Village, the same place that their grandparents had struggled to escape.

The "Loft".
The Loft was located on Avenue B and 11th Street. It was a block down Avenue B from "Stanley's" which was on 12th. Stanley's was the waterhole and social meeting place for the older locals, mostly Polish, during the day, and at night for the many young artists and hippies. The Loft was located in one of those original turn-of -the-century manufacturing buildings that used the available underpaid workers who worked in a sweatshop environment. But, now, instead of producing an assembly line of off-the-rack garments, there was the production of large ambitious pieces of art for the exclusive Madison Avenue galleries and which were selling for top dollars. Now, instead of the sounds of sewing machines grinding away, there were the sounds of classical music, hammers, saws, and the smell of turpentine. The Loft was on the top floor of the three story building. When one entered, there was a rickety, worn flight of wooden stairs to the second floor. The entire second floor was a workshop and when the door was open, one could look in and see pieces of sculpture that resembled huge tires and balloons but were made of cement and were painted a flat white and then sanded till the large round shapes appears velvety smooth. Big was in. This was the cutting edge of the art movement - led by Andy Warhol and his immense canvasses of POP art.

The Loft was on the top floor and was rented to a sculptor whose grandparents had come over from Norway. And like many with a Nordic background, he loved working in wood. He carved massive pieces of wood made to resemble giant chains and blown-up puzzle pieces. He not only loved working in wood but his huge work area was also the home of some interesting people. A new type of art in human form that gathered together. There were parties and fun in those days, and possibly for most of us who lived then. Or so it seems when looking back.

Stanley's Bar
Stanley's, when I first arrived on the scene had become the social center of the thriving art community of the East Village. Several years prior Stanley had bought the old corner bar, and his first customer's were the older Polish people from the neighborhood which included his own son and wife. They made up most of the regulars in the beginning. The new wave of residents began coming out during the evening and would often stay till closing, which I remember was at 3 AM. I can still hear in my mind, Stanley calling out, "Time gentlemen, time". At which the bar would quiet down and all the harsh lights would come back on. Those who were still left would gradually leave, reluctantly going back into the harsh, cold reality of the night.

The name 'Stanley's' took time to take hold. I don't think the bar was ever officially named and I don't remember ever seeing any sign on the outside of the building. The name had been shortened from the original long Polish name that most of us couldn't pronouce - we did know that it ended in "ski". And so Stanley's with it's rather quiet, home-like, laid-back and friendly atmosphere soon attracted the new arrivals, most of whom were originally from England and Ireland who found the atmosphere much like back home. And so this group of artists, writers, teachers, Hippies and lost souls along with other non-conformists made up the better part of Stanley's extended family.

Stanley, himself, was a rather fatherly and charismatic personality. When I first arrived and was feeling rather a bit shy about going into a bar on my own, Stanley made sure that I would feel comfortable. After that, I would never feel uncomfortable especially as I got to know the many personalities - and they got to know me. It was like coming home every time I went there.

Besides, Stanley being such a truly caring human being, he was also known for his uncanny business sense. he had taken a run-down old landmark and was in the process of restoring it to it to it's former glory. The center piece of which was a beautiful mahogany back bar and counter. At the bottom of the bar there was a brass rail step. The old floor from the turn of the 20th century was made up of small hexagonal tiles. And it had been said that Theodore Roosevelt may have been one of the bar's original earlier patrons. Next to the wall in the middle of the bar was the juke box that played the music of Bob Dylan, Barbara Streisand, Frank Sinatra, all the Doo Wop and of course, the very early Beatles...

These were the days, my friend, I thought would never end...

One of my favorite memories of that time was when the bar's regulars were having a rather lively discussion about Stanley's business skill, and someone with a flare for the dramatic raised his beer mug for a toast, "If Stanley were to try to buy back Manhattan Island, he would probably offer $23 rather than the $24 that the Dutch paid...being that it was used".

The Grave Diggers
Several of those who lived, off and on, in the loft decided to form a group of "construction workers". They called themselves the 'Grave Diggers' after Bill Graves who had come up with the original idea. The English tradition of using the last name for a person carried over to the East Village, or possibly it was a standard tradition in the armed services. And so the 'Grave Diggers' was born and assignments were coming in from as far south as Chinatown, where they installed air-conditioning units, to as far north as 14th Street where they were constructing another bar to give Stanley a little competition. Actually their first job came from Stanley himself, who decided to open a restaurant under the bar. Where? Yes, under his bar.

And so, the name had a special meaning. It was a massive project, but the results were breath-taking. The restaurant when it was finally finished, had several Gothic arches with the original red brick exposed and the walls also were left with the beauty of the raw brick. It gave the feeling of a monastery. But the last stroke of genius came from the females. They gave the restaurant the finishing touches with red checkered table cloths, and candles in black iron-wrought candle holders. The result was an ambience of a medieval and a romantic time. Some of the huge wooden sculptures, now called "woody goodies", were brought down from the loft and blended very well with the old medieval style. It was a lovely and unusual place to go to and the word spread quickly.

Actually the cellar restaurant didn't last very long. Unfortunately the novelty soon wore off and it wasn't exactly the place to bring a date who had claustrophobia. It soon came, unannounced that a wonderful era was soon to end.

Stanley died suddenly, after a brief illness. And the bar closed. The glue that had kept the group together was gone.

A few years later, the bar was dismantled and sold to Macy's, a famous department store in mid-Manhattan. The new Macy's bar was located in the sub-basement and became a trendy place to go for beer and hamburgers, much like PJ Clarke's in the fashionable upper Eastside. Meantime what was left of the orginal Stanley's bar, was stripped bare and became a motorcyle club. And still later, when I went back to revisit the old neigborhood, the motorcycle club was gone and in it's place was a Bodega, a small Spanish speaking local grocery store.

There's just one bit of macabre humor that I'd like to share. When my dear friend died recently after a long illness, I was asked what his occupation had been. I told the person who was to make out the death certificate that he had been a construction worker and had worked for a group called the grave diggers. The final result was that 'grave digger' was listed as his occupation. I think that he would have found that hilarious.

These were the times, my friend, I thought would never end.

Time gentlemen, Time!

It was during that time when I lived in the East Village that I met the person that I would share many years with. He recently passed on, but in my dreams I often return to those days and those places where we met. Most of those who lived there then are now gone, but maybe in some way it all does still exist, even if it's only in my dreams.