Saint Marks in the Bowery. The closest I've come to having a parish church. It's the oldest place of Christian service in the City. Peter Stuyvesant, whose bones I met, are entombed in the wall. This is where for decades my friends in the radio biz had their memorials.
It's where I want mine.
Like all institutions, and people it changes over time. In my experience it went from an all welcome of any or no faith to a strictly Christian only space,...and back. Basically it's Holy Ground. I just like sitting there is all.
Given these events in my life just now I'm remembering thanks to my dear comrade Gary Introne's photo work, see above, my meeting with a certain historic personage.
One day while at service at Saint Marks in the Bowery. I looked to my left, and noted I had an interesting pew mate. Peter Stuyvesant or some portion of him was entombed into the wall.
This next to my usual spot.
There are assorted poets, and troublemakers planted about the grounds...even a Vice President or two. However I never thought I'd run into 'these' bones.
We are just dust, and the memories our posterity has of us. ...and we're 'lucky' that's all!
Amen.
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