When I first thought about reviewing the last recorded work by a band, I questioned the futility. Why? If they are over, there must be a reason. Yet some infernal sadness tugs at my musical heartstrings, with…Continue
November 22nd. Strikes a sullen chord. Any year -- and yet this year, it is the 50th year. Striking a crescendo of deep and bitter sadness.
Maybe it’s because I was raised in a house where John Fitzgerald…Continue
”They could take our land, starve our poor, destroy our homes and plunder our institutions; they could deny us education, but they could not destroy our music and song” No truer words were ever spoken. These are by Derek Warfield himself.
Derek Warfield is a…Continue
I made several trips back into the devastation after that initial writing. The work never got easier. In fact it got much harder. Age on a man is often internal and aches and pains are the wrinkles.
Above, Cross Bay Blvd and a ship washed into the median. See more pictures below. Photos by Kevin Gleeson
One friend in particular deserves a mention here – a year later. Living in east Rockaway on…Continue
Added by Kevin Gleeson on November 17, 2013 at 7:00pm — No Comments
We might have been called “narrow-backs” or “Micks” or “Donkeys” but the Irish of Laurel Hill were joined together as a community. My dad was in the Holy Name Society. He read the Epistles at Mass in St. Theresa’s. We would travel to Gaelic Park to watch Uncle “Mick” or Uncle Martin beat Kilkenny…Continue
I recently saw a post on Facebook about the former neighborhood of Laurel Hill, Queens, NY. The post described how progress for the City destroyed a community. I wanted to jot down some of my memories to speak (for those who no longer can) about a time, a place and a people.
The house I grew up in…Continue