Today's MOSTLY TRUE SHORT STORY: Hot Potato Knishes - Ice Cold Cokes, Here!

Words and photos F LoBuono

Every summer, when we were kids, my mother would pack up my older sister, my little brother, and me for our annual 2 week vacation at Coney Island. Since we lived in Jersey, the great majority of my friends went down the shau, while we headed for Brooklyn. You see, my mother, Stella, grew up just a mile or so from the Boardwalk there and her family (and, our cousins) still lived in the same place. And, despite our protestations, there was no escape with Stella's reasoning for going always logical and never changing: I'm not sure what you guys are complaining about - same ocean!

So, usually in mid-August, while my father stayed in Fort Lee to work and he couldn't drive us there (he ALWAYS picked us up), Stella loaded us on the subway for the nearly 2 hour journey, and off to The Promised Land we went.

Truthfully, it really wasn't bad after all. In fact, we had a blast. My cousins where there and so was the beach. My grandmother's place was an old classic Brooklyn townhouse located on Ave.W, right between Ocean Parkway and Coney Island Avenue. And, of course, in Italian tradition, my cousins' family lived only about a block away. Every morning for the 2 weeks we where there, we packed a cooler of wonderful, fresh food, soft drinks, grabbed a beach blanket, an umbrella, and some beach chairs to make our pilgrimage down Ocean Parkway to the beach entrance at Bay 7th St.

One of my strongest memories was hitting the cool sand under the boardwalk that awaited us at the end of our long and hot journey down Ocean Parkway. I remember taking off our sneakers right away so that we could feel the moist, fresh sand between our toes. We ran squealing from the relative darkness and cool air provided by the shade of the boardwalk and into the blazing sun and scorching sand that we now felt under our feet. We ran as fast as we could to the water to dunk our toes in the chilly, refreshing ocean!

After a quick dunk, we staked our claim to some prime beach real estate. This was essential in the summer as the beach quickly filled up with thousands of other families. Let's face it, no one would ever mistake Coney Island for some deserted atoll! Eventually, we all settled into our beach routines - body surfing, swimming, beach combing, and the occasional trip to the boardwalk.

At some point, we settled in to eat lunch, usually lovingly prepared by my grandmother. After lunch, if we were particularly well-behaved, a special treat for dessert was waiting for us: an authentic Coney Island Potato Knish! Now, these were no ordinary potato knishes! They were purchased from a figure that, to me, was every much a part of Coney Island as Nathan's Famous. I never knew his name but he was there EVERY DAY, walking the entire length of the beach, over and over again, bare-chested, a shock of grey hair blowing in the sea breeze while he called out in a melodic voice: Hey, get your hot potato knishes - ice cold Cokes - HERE! And, it was always with the same cadence, pausing slightly before he finished we a flourish - HERE!

When we heard his booming voice as he made his way up the beach, we ran to whomever was chaperoning us that day to beg for money - a knish was $.50 and a Coke $.25. My mom or one of my aunts would give us enough money so that all of us could have a knish and a coke. We surrounded him like a pack of wolves might their prey. While we jumped for joy around him, he placed his 2 heavy sacks on the sand to deliver his bounty: one bag for the knishes which were served in a cellophane wrapper and one filled with dry ice to keep those Cokes ice cold. Of course, he always had extra deli mustard to slather those knishes in!

After eating our fill and exhausting ourselves in AND out of the water, we packed up our belongs for the long walk back to Ave. W. And, as Stella always says, "tomorrow is another day". Little did we know how those tomorrows would change. And, they did - adulthood, responsibility and the like replaced the care free days of Hot Potato Knishes and Ice Cold Cokes. But, the memories can never truly be forgotten.