NEW YORK AND THE TWINS
IT'S A SMALL WORLD
An International Colossal Mystery
Left Unsolved
Mostly everyone wants to call Brooklyn their home town. My brothers, sisters and me honestly can. Our maternal ancestry originated on Clinton St. just off Flatbush Ave. in Brooklyn, New York beginning in the mid 1800's. As I grew, I also admired the great American contemporary music celebrities who also truly called Brooklyn their home -- favorites Neil Diamond and Barbra Steisand to name just two.
New York often calls me home. New York feels like home. I am home. Cathy, my wife, will remark that she notices how far more comfortable I am in New York than other towns which we visit. I enjoy Washington, Boston and San Francisco, but they're not home.
For years as kids, we walked the beaches and swam in the shadow of the Twin Towers -- the Towers stood as skylining symbols of my parents -- tall and solid. Always present, always glistening. The Twins and the Empire State Building point skyways in the direction of heaven; it's the reason they are described as uplifting -- believe me New Yorkers will say so. We cried too with New Yorkers at the loss of The Twins. It's a day which I will never forget.
I breathe Brooklyn. It's a maternal instinct for me to return to Brooklyn, Long Island & Jamaica Bay where I spent summers on the beach as a kid. Over the years, I've met troops of cousins who remain loving and kind to my wife, my family in New Brunswick and me.
Today a new generation of younger Healy's, Miller's and Dros' are on the scene in New York. I've been struck by their interest in ancestory including my parent's background and the Healy-Miller Brooklyn connection. For the younger set, there remains a lot of mystery as to their hook-up with Canada and the Mounties.
New York is a town of mysteries. A new mystery happened to my wife and me in the last few weeks. We were browzing at the Apple Glass Cube Store at 5th and 58th 'nigh near midnight. A young female NYPD Patrol Officer came into the store presumingly on an investigation.
After her enquiries with the stone manager, the NYPD Officer prepared to leave but she had to pass by me to exit the store. I gently stopped her and asked for a picture. She agreed. She was very patient and an excellent conversationalist. What a wonderful NYPD Ambassador! I began to think that she was from Brooklyn, perhaps a Healy cousin, but '...no, she said, I live in the City.'
After the snap, we intended to compare US/Canada police styles. But, all of a sudden, her police radio cracked with an emergency. In an instant, the NYPD Officer turned, ran up the stairs and fled faster than a flea chasing a fox. Flashbacks of Zorro jumping for his horse and an escape criss-crossed my mind. She disappeared. We didn't get her name or badge number!
Seems like I am always fronting a new mystery. Perhaps we'll meet the Officer again if we spot her jogging through Central Park?
I'm convinced she's a Healy cousin. You can't tell me otherwise.
'Maintain Our Memories'
J. J. Healy,
Reg.#23685