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Hi Tony, I guess it takes someone from Wisconsin to email someone in Cincinnati to get into a good conversation about PS16 (also named the Leonard Dunkley School - donít ask me who he was). Itís amazing how many memories stay with you without your realizing it. If I remember right, the principalís name was Mr. Salon, and his assistant, Miss Greenwald. The secretary in the main office was Sally Polands. Facing Wilson Street, there was a balcony on the front of the buildingís second floor, from which Lincoln supposedly once spoke. There was an Old building (grades K-6) and a New building (grades 7&8). But there was no schoolyard. If you wanted to play punchball, you did it, by taking over three sewers (manhole covers) and getting in the way of traffic on your own street. The inside walls of the Old building rolled open to convert the whole floor to an auditorium. Sometimes they showed slide shows (hand colored glass slides). I remember seeing the now- politically incorrect Little Black Sambo, which was entertaining, although unconsciously bigoted. When the walls were closed, you had to walk through each classroom to get to the next. There was also an auditorium in the basement where the music classes were held, and where a Magic Clown visited every so often to entertain during assemblies. Across from the school there was a bicycle rental and repair place, and a candy store where you could get egg creams to drink, buy notebooks, and pick up all sorts of cheap junk from pre-war Japan for a few cents. My home was two blocks from Bedford, between Marcy and Lee Avenues, half a block from Eastern District H.S., and about 2-1/2 blocks from the Hewes St. BMT station. I could hit over a sewer in a punchball game, and we also had our share of stoopball and stickball on our own street, and handball at a playground on Havemeyer Street near the bridge. Ebbets Field, of course, was still around at the other end of Bedford Avenue (there was a fountain at our end). Your grandson went to a fine school. I wish him success in his career. I can also understand why you stop in Covington; itís like camping by the Brooklyn Bridge. Jay
in Brooklyn, New York today!
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