For anyone who hasn’t had the chance to catch HBO’s documentary, The Bronx, USA, I have two words: see it. For 90 minutes you’ll be spellbound by the essence of the Bronx, captured beautifully in this dazzling documentary that follows famed Seinfeld producer George “Georgie” Shapiro, and his Bronx buddy Carl Golub, who travel back to Norwood, embracing its halcyon past.
The documentary is a parallel story of sorts, with a portion of the documentary dedicated to Shapiro’s adolescent days in Norwood (strangely, the neighborhood isn’t referred to as Norwood, but “the neighborhood”) and the other to a group of friends—namely Richeal, Tiffany, Joseph, Yhaqueri, Ronice, Clejen, Alexander, Estefany, Danielle, and Javid—all enrolled at DeWitt Clinton High School and entering at a crossroads, sharing the burden of responsibility. The two stories converge toward the end, with the octogenarians espousing the meaning of fellowship, which they conclude didn’t have to be taught to the young group.
In both stories, Norwood, and more broadly the Bronx, is celebrated, serving as a cherished part of their upbringing and forming that conduit for friendships. In Shapiro’s case, they’re lifelong. In the case of former Bronxite Rob Reiner, the famed actor/movie director who shared his thoughts for the documentary, Norwood was the village. For Richeal, who looks after her one-year-old twin siblings, it’s a place of lasting friendships.
On top of Reiner, other famed Bronxites, including Grandmaster Melle Mel, actor Chazz Palminteri, retired General Colin Powell, producer Ced Gee, artist John “Crash” Matos, actor Alan Alda and his wife Arlene, a book author, music producer Steve Jordan, all muse about the Bronx.
Throughout the documentary the word “neighborhood” is mentioned, serving as a cocoon from the outside world and a place where traditions are established (one interesting activity I learned about was sunning on Tar Beach, where residents tanned on tar-covered rooftops).
Palminteri, who grew up in Belmont’s Little Italy, offers a word of caution. “I think the word ‘neighborhood’ is dying now. There are no more neighborhoods,” says Palminteri.
But is it that so?
The Bronx sure has shed the version of neighborhood that Palminteri knew—the one where doors were unlocked and stickball was the quintessential street game—but that hasn’t completely vanished. Families have planted roots in the Bronx, and it was evident this past Halloween where mothers and fathers from varied ethnic backgrounds ushered their kids down East 204th Street for some trick-or-treating. It’s evident in the North Bronx Islamic Center, where, in the last six months, worshippers have arrived to form community. And it’s evident during winter time at Mosholu Parkway. The funny thing about nostalgia is the sheen that’s applied to those memories.
Are people keeping their head low these days? Yes. Are residents attending community meetings? Not much. There are a million reasons behind that, which can’t be covered in this single opinion piece. But that doesn’t mean inspiring more people to care about your neighborhood can’t be reclaimed.
The documentary resonated with me, inspiring me to publish the front page story you see in this edition. It’s a story of students taking stock of Norwood, the beauty of the Bronx, and not just living in it with their head down.
It’d be great if residents can do what these students did and soak in what’s around them, chronicling what makes Norwood a special place. It can be made even more special by attending community meetings, forming civic associations, taking a day out of their lives to contribute to their neighborhood, and sharing ideas. Perhaps they’ll have the same long-lasting love as what George Shapiro has.
David Cruz is the editor of the Norwood News.
The Norwood hood was known in those days as ” Bainbridge”
Sorry, but in my day we called it “Williamsbridge.” Norwood was a name unknown to us.