My Path to Popp's

I’m always fascinated by the fact that the decisions we make, even early in our lives, lead us down certain paths and bring us to particular people and destinations that would otherwise never have been.   For example, I took a Diocesan exam in eighth grade, and was one of two female students that were invited to attend Bishop McDonald High School - absolutely free of charge.   For most, this invitation was seen as an honor and a great opportunity.   My Father, frequently driven by fear, apparently saw it more as a threat and a danger.   He didn’t want me to take dark, dank subway cars into what he described as “the bowels of Brooklyn”.   He convinced me it would be safer and less stressful for him, and for me, if I attended a Catholic School in the opposite direction.   My cousin, Nancy Sue O’Donnell, who lived next door at the time, was already attending Our Lady of Wisdom Academy (OLWA) in Ozone Park, Queens.  Therefore it was decided that I would attend OLWA, travel with my cousin on buses, instead of subway trains, and thus remain “safe”.  My father, not really a rich man, would rather pay tuition so he wouldn’t have to worry about me.   Ironically, once a week, while attending this “safe” alternative High School, I took a subway into the “bowels of Brooklyn”.  I had joined the Legion of Mary and as a service project I had volunteered to feed babies at St. Mary’s Hospital.   On one such excursion, a couple of my friends and I were “attacked” as we entered the subway stairwell.  Luckily, we were not seriously harmed since we ran like hell and made it to the safety of the token booth attendant before any real damage could be inflicted.  It was our last subway trip to St. Mary’s Hospital!    The lesson I learned was this:  Safety can be a bit of an illusion; certain things can’t be controlled.    Speaking of paths, I’m diverging off mine…..

The point is this - I ended up frequenting Popp’s Ice Cream Parlor precisely because I attended Our Lady of Wisdom Academy and Popp’s Ice Cream Parlor happened to be a midway point on my way home.  Before hopping on my second bus, I’d walk a couple of extra blocks and take a little detour into Ice Cream Parlor heaven!   The feelings of excitement, anticipation and a bit of trepidation replay in my memory.  The fact that I was in a very real sense “an Interloper” and didn’t actually live in the boundaries of the Woodhaven neighborhood, always hung heavy on my heart.   I was basically riding on the coattails of my cousin, Tom Marski, and Bob Smith, my cousin, Sharon’s new love.    When one is a young teenager, the desire for acceptance is paramount, and being an outsider, I felt my position was a bit shaky to begin with.

Before I share more of my memories, I would like to add a little caveat.  What I happen to remember, and what I perceived about people I met during the Popp’s Ice Cream Parlor Days may be very different than what others remember.  Memories are a strange and interesting phenomenon.  Two people can be in the same place at the same time and witness the same set of events yet they observe and interrupt them entirely differently.  Add on to that the passage of time, and in this instance, decades, and the memories make seem unrecognizable to others.   I hope the perceptions and memories I share with you will help you to reminisce and discovery the coming of age moments deeply hidden in your mind.