Stacy Horn

Here’s the “I killed it” audio. Poor Charlie Brown. Urban Outfitters actually sells a “Charlie Brown Pathetic Tree” which looks exactly like that tree, right down to being tipped over by a christmas ornament. But it’s sold out! We love that sorry little tree.

My accomplishments yesterday: I went to the gym, and back out to Brooklyn for the fire incident report, and I’m down to one last Christmas gift to get. No work on the Duke book, but that I will get to today.

It’s the home stretch for the holidays. Oh! My friend Cricket sent me Paine’s Balsam Fir Incense. I lit one and I swear it’s like taking happy drugs, having that scent in my apartment. Thank you, Cricket!

I feel like I accomplished nothing yesterday. I went out to Brooklyn to get some fire incident reports, and they told me it would take at least an hour so I called some detective friends who work nearby and we went out to lunch. Very nice, but when I got back to the FDNY the records section was closed! God damnit to hell. I just put my head on the counter and moaned, “I must die now. I can’t take it. I have to kill myself.”

Neander and Jim hosted their annual Caroling Party, even though everyone is Jewish except for a few of us, which includes ME. From left to right that’s Jim, Mark, Extra T aka Ellen, me and Cricket with the camera. She and Neander had a little dueling camera thing going. Lots of other people were there, but I’m afraid to name them because if I leave someone out they will be mad that I forgot them.

I have to have a productive day. Somehow I have to:

– Schlepp back out to Brooklyn to get fire reports.
– Finish Christmas shopping.
– Go to gym.
– Work on parapsychology book.

We’ll see how much I get done. WE’LL JUST SEE.

My earlier posting of my grandparent’s house brought a flood of memories from my father! Since they included a bunch of New York figures and some New York history, I asked him if I could post his email here (that’s him on the right).

From my dad:

“The pictures really bring back memories. That was my fire truck in the picture. I still remember that gift clearly, and I was very young that Christmas, probably six or seven. If you look, you will see my folks all dressed up. In those days a lot of the neighbors would go around in a sled (if there was snow) and sing carols, and drink any grog at each house where they stopped. This was all after we were all sleeping.

When they were finished they came home and dressed the tree. You can imagine what time that was. We never saw a sign of a tree until Christmas morning. They were blessed with an excellent community spirit which still continued throughout my growing up. Jamaica Estates was a particular community. A good deal of that spirit came from your grandfather who put in many hours working as president of the association, which he was for the most years of his living there. It’s amazing how the area has retained it’s status to this very day. Some of the homes were much bigger than ours, and I would guess worth several million in this day’s market.

Many hugely successful people lived in the Estates. King Kullen, father of the modern supermarket lived on Radnor Road, the next street. Donald Trump’s father, Fred, would walk up to our house with little Donald in a carriage to gab with my father. The Conway’s lived down a couple of blocks. Jim Conway worked with me when I bought the house in Centerport. His family ran the Long Island City Savings Bank, which has grown to be quite large. Neighbors ran Sulka’s, a great mens store, FAO Schwartz, the toy empire, and on and on. One of the men was the first to buy the Empire State Building when it was resold. There are numerous stories there in Jamaica Estates. It would be fun to see how the history has gone.

You should look into the history of Jamaica Estates – it is very interesting. You might remember that the “great” depression was in 1929. I was born in ’28. My grandfather, Peter, was, among other things, a builder. When my father got married my grandfather built two houses, side by side, on Avon Road. My father designed both. My grandfather told my father that he would get the house which did not sell first. After the house next door sold to the McKenna’s, my father got our house. The Estates was to be a clone of Tuxedo Park in Westchester. The initial homes built were quite large, even by today’s standards. When the depression broke things came to a quick stop. The later homes were smaller than the earlier ones, but followed a tradition of upscale which exists even today.

When I was young, I would go into one or two of the big homes which were abandoned as a result of the depression. One beautiful big Tudor had been left so quickly that all the furniture and clothes were still there until they were finally taken by people going into the house. It was a big adventure to sneak ninto the ‘”haunted” house. There are many stories around the area which I remember fondly.”

It’s your Christmas tree too, little guy.

The house that my grandfather built in 1926, and where my father and my aunts grew up, is for sale for $1,495,000.00. It’s in Jamaica Estates in Queens. When my father was born it was surrounded by mostly farmland. But in the 1930’s the city (Robert Moses) installed Grand Central Parkway within spitting distance on the eastern edge. Here’s a picture taken I know not when, I’m guessing in the late 1920’s, early 1930’s.

I just found a shot of it now. The current owners bought it for $338,500.00 in 1997. My grandfather built it for $20,000.00 in 1926, and I don’t know what he sold it for it the 70’s, but I know he said that he’d want at least $60,000 for it in 1969. So in exactly 80 years it went from $20,000 to just under 1.5 million. Man, I’d take most of those hedges out if I bought it. The house is far enough off the street that privacy is not an issue.

Here’s a shot inside, from the 1930’s, with the incredibly high ceilings (those are my grandparents).

I wanted to get a close up of the tree, their trees were always giant and magical.

And here is a close-up of what was under the tree, the best part. The only presents I can make out are the fire department cart thing, a Felix the Cat looking thing and a pillow with Santa Claus on it.

I honestly think that if I had a spare $1,495,000.00 I’d buy it. I’m getting all verklempt just looking at these shots. The closeness of Grand Central might sound like a bad thing, but when I was a child, the woosh, woosh, woosh, of cars speeding by at night, was comforting, like a lullaby, and to this day highway sounds make me feel at peace.

If there’s a rich person out there with a spare 1.5 mil, please buy me this house. Thank you in advance.