Staten Island, New York

Icabod Crane is real. There’s proof here on Staten Island. He rests in a forgotten, run down cemetery where his head stone has been a victim to graffiti. Shadowed by overgrown weeds it seems the only person who’s come across the grave was the graffiti artist or had they even bothered to look at the name.
When I think about it, Icabod Crane is the most interesting thing on Staten Island. Well, there was this old gorgeous orphanage at Mount Loretto. It was Georgian-style and just a great structure to look at, but it burned down a few years ago. That’s gone; Icabod’s gone…what’s left? Yeah there’s a beach but unless you feel like some hypodermic needles in your foot I wouldn’t suggest it.

Staten Island’s not the kind of place people go for a vacation. It’s more mob than rat infested. People have attitudes and accents. It’s just so strange. One minute you’ll be driving through a beautiful neighborhood with trees and houses with columns and the next you’ll see housing projects, homeless people, hear the sound of loud shopping carts, screaming, was that a gun shot?

It’s an island with two ways to escape. There are two choices, one to Brooklyn, or two to New Jersey. Where to go? Each way leads to another place, different or the same. You can keep driving until you find a place where you belong. So long.

Eileen F

Submitted: Tuesday 3rd February 2004, 1:30 AM

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