LIVIN’ AT THE UN PLAZA
LIFE AT THE UNITED NATIONS PLAZA
1966 – 1976
By: Leslie K. Siegel
It was 6:00 p.m. as the Bill-Dave youth center van drove down FDR Drive. Eliza, her sister Glinda and Brother Richard sat in the back seat. It was winter and as they zipped in and out of lanes, Eliza’s eyes were temporary blinded by the white, slushy snow she watched speeding by, piled high up along the curbs. She was fighting car sickness too.
They’d been in Central Park all day, after school. Eliza’s fingers were dirty and just now thawing out from the afternoon’s activities in the park. Lenny, the obnoxious but experienced driver was constantly gunning the engine and making them lurch forward along with 10 other kids riding in it too. Some of the ‘diehards’ enjoyed the rumpus ride comparing it to a rollercoaster, but Eliza hated it and it showed on her pale face.
Another memory took hold in Eliza’s sharp mind of her father placing her on an amusement park ride between her 2 brothers Roy and Richard. The ride had been a terror and traumatized the poor little 3 year old, but she had said to her father that she wanted to ride with her brothers and her father obliged her against the wishes of their mother Lena. The ride had only aggravated the car sickness mode Eliza would fall into when riding in a bus, car or even a park ride.
“Are you going to get sick again?” asked a cute pixy looking black girl sitting a few seats away from Eliza.
“I don’t know Sheri.” Eliza turned to Lenny. “Can you slow down?”
Lenny quickly gunned the engine again and imitated Eliza… “Can you slow down….Oh, no, boo-hoo, boo-hoo!”
“Stop it Lenny!”
“Why?” he asked, using a little girl’s voice as the trickster guy weaved in and out of New York traffic erratically with one hand on the wheel. He really was a very good driver and had his license since he was 12 and he knew he had full control of the van. It just was so easy and tempting to tease poor Eliza.
“She’s going to be sick, she’s gonna’ lose her cookies,” said another little boy riding in front, a good looking imp of a rascal named Cyrus. Everyone took his cue and began mimicking Eliza. Even the usually quiet Gaby and her little pudgy fat sister Lauren who was always sucking her thumb were a bit hyper too.
“Eliza’s gonna’ get sick, she’s gonna loose her cookies!” They made it into a chant and kept it up, a sing along like ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’.
Glinda felt sorry for her older sister and seemed to bare the ride fine and same with the shy and quiet Richard. “Why don’t you leave her alone!” Glinda yelled at the kids, but to no avail, the banter went as they sped up 2nd Avenue, Lenny gunning the engine.
At that moment Eliza wished she could be her older brother Roy who didn’t go to the youth center because he was at a different school and therefore on a different schedule than the other 3 Osberg kids, so he was spared the rough ride home back to the UN Plaza.
The second oldest Richard was introverted, shy and remote and didn’t say much due to a slight stuttering problem. Their mother doted on the boy constantly and that could have contributed to his quiet nature as well. He actually had an afro and a large afro pick was stuck in his back pocket. The kids in the back whispered about him and were kicking the seat. Rich ignored them and pretended to be somewhere else looking out the little windows of the rickety van.
It wasn’t all negative like this, and Eliza knew more positives than negatives in her life! All the Osberg children did! Sometimes, if not most times, their lives were a picnic filled with fun, surprises, fine arts and candy! That’s why Eliza couldn’t wait to get home to their apartment at the UN Plaza where they’d lived for just over a year.
Lenny spoke up trying to get Eliza’s mind off the ‘an up-chuck’. “Are there really 6 bathrooms in your apartment?” He smiled at her, his big white teeth glowing slightly in the waning light of the day. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, but he had a rough, kidding side that sometimes showed his Irish roots. It was a bit much, but always at the end, he stopped and gave the ‘sorry speech’
“You kids know I’m only kidding around with you, right?” But sometimes he would grab a bit too hard, or push just a little bit too much, just enough to make some kids whimper. There was something about Eliza that made Lenny want to speed up and make her feel off balanced. It was just Eliza’s personality, which was a bit hyper, yet inquisitive and bold! Even when she was quiet and subdued the silence burst in air like fireworks, just the, what was that word Lenny was looking for that he’d heard at a James Taylor concert in Westbury, NY last month … “the vibe”, yes, that was it.
“Yes, and 4 bedrooms,” said Glinda proudly.
“Sounds nice and roomy with all those rooms,” said Lenny in his calm voice when he wasn’t pissed off. It wasn’t easy to make these kids obey even though deep down inside he cared about his job and the kids. He wanted them to learn and he wanted to teach them, but the man could be a bit gruff.
“Yea, and we have a den, living room, even a maid’s quarters, kitchen and dining room,” bragged Glinda, seeming to be the spokesperson for the Osberg kids at the UN Plaza.
“Hmmm, the whole nine yards I would say!” Len drove onward into the city.
But to the Eliza and her Osberg siblings the UN Plaza was this huge playground of sparkling crystal and glass. The revolving door was their merry-go-round, the elevators were fun rides at Disney; the hallways were bowling alleys and the children were gaining quite a reputation for themselves in the year they’d lived there. Other tenants constantly complained about their noise and uproar, their conduct and rabble rousing antics through the cavernous lobby. Usually it was Eliza instigating it in some form! People got used to it and conditioned to it and Eliza was sometimes blamed even if it was some other kid.
Now everybody was making fun of Eliza. Then Lenny felt he had to take control, “… and who knew, maybe the kid would complain and he’d lose his job!” He looked out the side of his light brown eyes and saw tears rolling down the curly-headed tomboy’s face. He didn’t want her to think he cared and was a ‘tough love’ sort of counselor even at Camp Winaco where he was during the summer.
“Hey,” he said as they approached some traffic as he turned and put his large hands gently on Eliza’s curly mass of curls as he was prone to do. He had to slow down. “Eliza, come up front okay?” He had second thoughts about teasing her when he realized she might even vomit in the back and he didn’t want to spend his Friday evening cleaning the van. He also began joking with the other children trying to get their minds off Eliza. But now that everyone was quiet in the van at the traffic stop Lenny could still hear the chanting in his ears.
Right in the slightly wet street Lenny opened his door, came around to the side hatch and opened it for Eliza. For an instant, due to Eliza’s fear of the heavy traffic, her adrenaline pumped up, the nauseous feeling was dissipating for the moment. “I can walk from here,” said Eliza, knowing she could if he’d let her.
“Right, sure, sorry Kiddo, no dice.”
As Lenny made sure she was secured in the front seat, Eliza remembered a few months back the kids had riled Lenny up so badly and he really had gotten very angry, that the driver actually pulled over way up on 3rd Avenue and 99th Street and got out of the running van and left them sitting there. Everyone was quiet for about 3 minutes and just about the moment Glinda was about to lose her little mind, thinking they’d been abandoned and she’d never see her mother again, Lenny appeared and got back in the van and slammed the door hard. No one dared question him and for the rest of the ride no one said a word.
This time other kids complained – “Why does she get to ride in front?”
“Because I said so,” barked Lenny to all the kids in general. “Besides, I can keep my eye on her and if she loses her cookies, I can roll down the window faster.” Everyone agreed with a nod.
They drove further into the city and dropped off kids at some very ritzy New York City addresses – The Excelsior, The Pierre Hotel, The St. Regis and even the Waldorf Astoria where Lenny dropped off twin siblings Gordon and Gwynne and Jamie and Mary respectively.
Lenny knew that living at the UN Plaza was very exciting and upbeat with gleaming black limos, fancily dressed doormen, immaculate elevator men, glittering celebrities and foreign dignitaries milling around the lobby and grounds, which were sprawling and elegant. He always hoped to see some of the ‘Well knowns’ who lived there; Johnny Carson and his wife Joanna Carson, and even famed “In Cold Blood” author Truman Capote roamed around. The distinguished and dapper Robert F. Kennedy with wife Ethel and their 9 children lived there too! That must be interesting. Eliza told Lenny once that the Senator had spoken to her twice, even joked with her for a split second before he was whisked away by men in black coats and ear phones and she was gently pushed aside by security and a report was made that she’d spoken directly to Kennedy, whatever that meant!
“It means you’re in deep trouble,” joked Lenny, as usual. But he sounded so serious even with his jovial clown-like features plastered to his face. In the end, Eliza waited for the cops to come and get her, but they didn’t.
Eliza was quiet and trying to fight her growing restlessness and nausea. She couldn’t wait to get home and away from the van and cold air and smelly odors of the city as twilight settled in and the air got nippy.
It was on the 23rd floor of the UN Plaza that Eliza Osberg and her family lived. The tomboyish oldest daughter sat in the van trying to transport herself to her bedroom she shared with her 8 year old sister Glinda. The window had a full view looking directly out into the General Assembly Room at the famed United Nations Building. It was a warm and cozy, well lit room with white walls and interesting paintings and drawings by both girls and the famous colorful numbered ‘Hands meet with flowers’ lithograph. It was a nice room done up in expensive wall paper and a lush, deep orange wall to wall rug. Their beds were side by side and sometimes they would make a tent out of the bed spreads and sleep in it with Rich. It was great fun and they had flashlights. It was such a relaxing bedroom.
But the van continued riding through the city, Lenny even allowing Eliza to crack the window for air even though it was very chilly out. He was tired of maneuvering the van through some of the worse traffic in weeks due to the snow that seemed to come from nowhere and dumped a good 2 feet on the city. He wanted to get home and wanted everyone out so he could zoom lightning fast to his own squalor apartment in Brooklyn to relax and have a cold beer and watch the tube. He switched on the radio in the van. The song “Lion Sleeps Tonight” droned on, “…In the jungle, the might lion, the mighty Lion sleeps tonight!” That song always calmed Eliza’s spirit and made her think of the outdoors and fresh air.
It was obvious Lenny was really getting a bit sloppy in dropping off all these sassy rich kids but he’d usually saved the Osberg children for last. It was fun driving into the UN Plaza and watching the doorman scurrying about. He knew one day he’d spot Johnny Carson or some other movie celebrity passing by his van.
“Are there really 4 bedrooms up there?” Asked Lenny, although he already knew from what other people told him.
“Yes, and a lot more, we even have a hiding place behind the wall in the den, and no grown ups can fit in there only us kids, so it’s like a club house,” said Eliza, for once proud of it.
Lenny nodded with interest.
The UN Plaza Apartments were laid out in two sections – East Tower and West Tower. A red velvet lobby with crystal chandeliers, marble tables and floors was only scratching the surface of this residential opulence. It was, in Eliza’s Osberg’s opinion, “humongous”! 38 floors with each hallway on each floor decorated differently.
Lenny felt just a bit empowered as they finally drove down the driveway of the large apartment buildings although his stomach always seemed to flutter and that was unsettling sometimes for him.
By this time, there was a slight drizzle and the doorman was bundled up like a World War II soldier with gold tassels on either side of his shoulders of the dark blue jacket, and plastic around his doorman’s cap. His nose was red and when Eliza got out of the smelly van, she got a whiff of Sam the Doorman’s odor which was a pleasant smell of winter snow, expensive tobacco, jacket and cologne. Fog was coming out of his mouth as he hailed a cab. Eliza could detect the slight odor of Clorets Gum as Sam waved Lenny away after the kids were safely on the curb. He knew Lenny the van driver well and did not like the crass man, so he said with body language “get the heck outta’ my territory now!” But sometimes, on a warm evening, he talked with Lenny and found the driver pleasant enough and then Lenny would drive away feeling good as Sammy joke about him to the Osberg kids, which would break the tension in them, especially Eliza, he noticed. She seemed to be the worst for wear in the year he’d helped her out of Lenny’s fume infested coach! And to think that the Osbergs gave this guy Christmas money!
Sam always knew that the Osberg kids treated the hired help at the UN Plaza like pals they met in the schoolyard and that gave them a certain charm to the workers at the UN Plaza. It made working there so much more bearable because their family was so intriguing in so many ways and no one really knew what to make of them sometimes, so that made the job more fun because in the break room they all discussed the Osbergs, and even the service elevator guys got in on the action and it made them feel like a real union or something like that. The kids even joked around with the guy who ran the service elevator. “Hey Dum-Dum,” yelled Glinda and Eliza if they saw him peeking around the corner looking bored. They lit up his world in a funny way, but they were disruptive and the building could not ignore that. The Osbergs had been living at the UN Plaza on the 23rd floor for almost 1 year. It was getting really very turbulent and the times called for more protests at the UN Building, the Vietnam War, Hippies, drugs, pot and even Israel and Palestine! It was starting to make security at the UN Plaza a bit tighter than usual, and so that is probably why the kids were singled out sometimes.
Sammy the doorman could not resist Eliza, and was constantly bantering with her and all the Osberg kids, they were so full of life and news and questions. But how long would management at the UN Plaza put up with it? It all depended on who was on the side of the Osberg’s side! For now the kids came and went and it was actually lonely and quiet like a church when they left for a long vacation with their folks, but then they’d clamor back home and Sam would smile and pretend indifference when he saw Tom the Deskman looking at him from inside the building where he sat at a huge mahogany desk you’d usually see in airports.
“Hey kids,” he said like Santa Claus.
“Hi Sammy,” they answered back.
Eliza’s nauseous feelings dissipated as the doorman led them to the revolving doors. Once in the beautiful, richly smelling lobby any discomfort Eliza felt melted away, her rosy cheeks returning. Her nose picked up more expensive perfume, leather, glass even the cigarette smoke aroma was pleasing and evenly fresh.
They ran to the elevators laughing and carrying on as usual. A bank of 3 elevators stood like pylons to the sky. Glinda pushed the up arrow button. John McGrath was on duty and took them up to the 23rd floor. Fresh, sweet perfumed smelling warm air was coming out of the elevator fan hanging discreetly above. Eliza put her face up to catch a whiff, like the odor of a brand new car. It felt good on her face and felt revived to be back home. And at least Central Park had been fun and she’d gotten cotton candy for her treat there. The remnants dotted her faced and lips. Eliza also had some cotton candy stuck in her matted curly hair.
“Cold out?”
“Yup,” said Richard, who didn’t converse very much, but liked John, so made the effort to speak a few words and show recognition. “We played soldiers.”
“I’ll bet,” he said as he straightened his name tag.
“It’s really nasty out there,” said Eliza.
“Where you kids coming from?”
“The youth group.”
“Oh.”
“We were playing in Central Park!”
“Oh.” He stared down at them with a huge smile on his big gentle looking face. His black uniform made him look more official than what the position of elevator operator was, but the kids had always treated him like he mattered to them and was important in their eyes. They looked up to him and that’s what he liked most about them. Mrs. Osberg was very generous around Christmas too.
“Where’s Roy?” He asked.
“Probably upstairs by now and sipping hot chocolate,” said Eliza
John slowly reached into his front shirt pocked.
“More sports pins, John?”
John nodded knowingly and retrieved a pin with a little football attached to it. “Oh yes!”
“Wow, why does he get that?” asked Eliza.
“Because he is the oldest and he loves football!” said little Glinda.
“Give him this, Rich, okay?”
“OK,” said John placing the little trinket in the palm of Rich’s plumpish hand.
Finally they reached 23 just as Eliza’s ears popped.
“Bye kids, be good!”
“Bye John,” they all said in unison.
They walked to their apartment and rang the bell. The door slowly opened and Roy was there smiling at them. The little dark haired oldest Osberg smiled. He wore braces and glasses but was dressed immaculately in a white tailored shirt and black dress pants with shiny men’s shoes that always made Glinda and Eliza laugh when they talked about them because their next door neighbor Mr. Ackermann wore the almost same ones, except his had little designer holes in them.
“Hey you guys,” he said excitedly as he let them in. He could be a handsome boy one day when the braces came off and the eyes cleared up. But for now he wore them like badges, not seeming to mind or notice, and he even had to go through getting his wisdom teeth out at a very early age in his teens. It would probably make the robust looking kid stronger when he got older. There was also a barely visible scar on Roy’s left thumb from when the boy ran through a plate glass door when they lived in a house in New England. He’d almost lost that thumb if not for the quick thinking paramedics that responded.
“Roy!” said Eliza, happy to see her older brother. She hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Here, this is from John,” said Richard, handing Roy the football pin.
“Hey, thanks.” Roy looked at the little pin and hooked it on Eliza’s shirt lapel.
“Roy!” She wore it like a metal and this one was special with a little golden plated football attached and it was the Washington Red Skins.
“Look, it’s Indians,” said Roy, knowing full well his kid sister’s love for the Indians!
“Thanks so much!” said Eliza.
The kids walked into the beautiful co-op. It smelled like fresh flowers and their mother’s expensive cologne, plus Mr. Osberg had come home tonight and everyone was in the den and Eliza could smell him clearly with his Aramis Cologne and expensive suit smell mixed with rich cigarette smoke. Sometimes she got a whiff of his breath after he’d had a few bites and sips of his Vodka and Herring delight he so loved; and it was comforting, not smelly nor offensive. He was such a fastidious man and was so clean shaven and put together so right, even with a toupee.
“There’s a lady here who is going to take care of us now,” revealed Roy.
“No more Vera the terror?” screamed Eliza.
“Nope, she’s gone!”
“Really?” asked the disbelieving Glinda, even getting up and looking out the den door into the long hallway leading to the maid’s quarters.
“This new woman’s in the den with mom and dad talking. She’s really nice, I met her!”
“Wow, neato!” said Rich.
They all walked into the cozy den. This room was decorated in very expensive brown intricate wallpaper and a huge Marc Chagall hung ever so exquisitely above the expensive Italian couch. The windows faced toward the tip of the Empire State Building, as well as the PanAm building to the right, and the Chrysler Building’s twinkling church looking lights to the left. The East River was lit up all around, and the George Washington Bridge stood to the foreground, cars flashing like stars. Trash and tugboats slowly drifted on the water, their little portals shining and cozy looking! When they came in and were seated, everyone sat quietly for a moment looking at the view that never seemed to get tiresome. In fact, it exuded their parent’s tastes.
Each child kissed their dad and sat on the couch. Mrs. Osberg was in the French chair dressed to the nines. The apartment itself was immaculate and glamorous. Mrs. Osberg was very particular about her decorators and furniture.
Lena Osberg could have been someone! With her almost Broadway career behind her and the contacts she stayed in touch with it was easy to still entertain with the idea of being known and ‘in the know’. The way she dressed and carried herself was very elegant and well put together. Blond long hair in a bun, her trademark cherry lipstick, signature white outfits and nifty flat heeled shoes in all colors and styles. The smell of Chanel #5 or A’rpeage French cologne at $100 an ounce. She shopped at Bloomingdales, Bergdorf Goodman’s, Neiman Marcus, Saks Fifth Avenue and even I Magnin. The glamorous woman knew a lot of well heeled, high placed people and celebrities, singers and character actors. Her charity work and past paired her with many a surprise actor or singer who had even babysat them when they stayed at the UN Plaza apartment.
Their Mother Lena loved glamour! That mixed with the need to be different than all the rest, and know she was sparked with a special aura about her. Mrs. Osberg was gorgeous; she knew it. Lena was elegant, she knew. The woman who loved wearing all white and mink was outspoken and to the point; everyone around her knew that. Lena was simply smashing, gorgeous and vivacious. She didn’t smoke nor drink, except sometimes socially. She’d taken good care of herself through the years of having so many children. If all had went as planned there would have been many more kids, but she did have a few miscarriages. She and Victor had been busy, as the Kennedy’s were.
Lena could carry a conversation on for hours and absolutely lived for being in “The Know”. She was smart and raised well, fine bred in the Fine Arts, she sang opera like it was a walk in the park; Lena could play the piano and once had aspirations of either being a concert pianist or singing in the opera, but after a stint on Broadway, she met Victor Osberg and her mothering instincts overcame loving living out of a suitcase. But on the other hand, Lena used her theatrical background to her advantage; her public speaking skills took her to various forums and panels, as well as at parties in the “industry” both media and music, plus movies. In many ways it was rubbing off on Eliza, but more so with Glinda. Some called her over-dramatic, many called her beautiful and a great opera singer and the woman could raise funds for just about any cause related the The Arts!
“Kids, I’d like you to meet Gemma,” said Lena.
A young, petite light skinned black woman sat on the chair and smiled brightly.
“Kids, this is Gemma, our new housekeeper!” added Victor.
“Hello,” they all said in unison.
“She’s going to take care of you and cook, clean and keep our apartment orderly,” said Mrs. Osberg.
“I’m from Jamaica,” said the bright eyed lady.
Eliza remembered the sneering, ugly, old white face of Vera, and this new lady seemed anything but terrifying, Eliza could sense that right away!
“Wow,” they all said again in unison.
“You kids are cute, Ras…!” exclaimed Gemma, using the word “Ras” as in “Wow”.
“And she cooks!” said Eliza’s mother. “And I know what you’re thinking Eliza! You can tell right away that Gemma is a really sweet person, unlike Vera,” added Lena. She turned to Gemma. “That’s the lady we’d made the big mistake of hiring last year before we moved here to the UN Plaza, so things were a bit hectic.”
Eliza would always be haunted by Vera and remembered the incident with her younger sister getting her mouth washed out with Phisoderm nursing soap by Vera. Eliza recalled Glinda’s face turning beet red and she was screaming in terror, they both were.
Eliza stared deeply into Gemma’s twinkling brown eyes, and saw only kindness and depth she never saw in Vera’s dark grey winkers.
“I only have bad memories of Vera,” said Eliza.
Little Glinda and even Roy nodded. They would always carry the harsh memory of Vera the Terror, as they all called her.
“It takes a lot to push Roy to lose his temper like Vera and her sister Loretta did to the kids behind our backs!” admitted Mrs. Osberg.
Eliza cut in, “He ended up chasing them around the apartment with a steak knife until they locked themselves in the den bathroom.”
“They’d rile the kids up and tease them, and then claimed it was Eliza who was riling them up. Once Eliza had a terrible ear infection,” explained Mrs. Osberg.
“The school called and Vera come in a taxi and practically dragged Eliza by her sore ear to the cab and home,” explained Mr. Osberg easily remembering the incident and how they hadn’t seen how Vera was at first. “An aide saw the whole thing out the window and phoned us both!”
“Instead of trying to relieve Eliza’s apparent pain she told my daughter to go straight to her room, undress and get to bed with no t.v. on,” said Mrs. Osberg. “She told us that Eliza had been sent home from school for pretending to be sick, so at first of course we believed Vera…” She shot a loving glance of guilt toward Eliza and this had not been the first time Lena hadn’t believed her daughter hurt or ill. It’s just that she didn’t want her kids hurting, and sometimes she assumed they were playing wolf.
“But eventually by that evening the truth was out about Vera. Now that’s wrong and I should have seen that one coming. Luckily I called Fern and she and her sister flew in and took care of things for awhile until we found you Gemma!”
“Fern?” asked Gemma curiously.
“Oh, yes, we employed 2 sisters Fern and Ginny, wonderful women, to care for the kids years before Vera came into our employ,” said Victor.
“Remember, they have their own families,” said Mrs. Osberg.
But Eliza knew that Fern and Ginny just can’t stay away from the Osbergs, and the pay was very lucrative and the work was very fulfilling and busy, plus they get the fringe benefits of staying at the prestigious UN Plaza when their services were needed!
Mrs. Osberg added easily, “We would never ask them to uproot.” She leaned forward as if telling a secret. “The bottom finally fell out when Vera got so brazen as to steal my Bloomingdale’s charge plate and bought a $90 coat. She told everyone that my husband gave her permission!”
“Me Ras!” said Gemma almost dreamy-like as her cheery eyes took in the elegance of 23E.
“She was unceremoniously fired and we’ve never heard from her again and if we do the police will be involved. I did make a complaint!” said Victor.
Eliza didn’t mention that the kids had seen Loretta, Vera’s redheaded sister. She said Vera got another job on Park Avenue for some family and was making big bucks and that if “you kids want to come up to my place, I’ll make you a nice spaghetti dinner” to which the kids never accepted. As she walked away Eliza and Glinda would make fun of her.
Now this wonderful, young, friendly lady, eyes dancing with fun, stood before the kids laughing and carrying on with them.
After that, before dinner Eliza started to run her bath, Gemma came up and a said, “We’re gonna’ have so much fun, ras child! She even helped Eliza run her bath, and then washed her tangled naturally curly hair for Eliza which was a luxury. Even Glinda hopped in the tub as Gemma began to wash their hair and laugh with them. The Jamaican’s hands were supple and gentle and her demeanor kind. She had 4 children of her own and lived in Brooklyn with her husband Lev, whom Mrs. Osberg ended up getting a high profile job working at the UN Garage.
“Gemma, I like you,” said Glinda as she rinsed off.
“Me too!” added Eliza as she dunked her head under the warm cloudy water in the tub and all the grim and dirt of playing in the middle of Central Park came off of her like a second skin! It felt great to be clean and warm. Her fingers were still a bit frozen and were thumping, but soon that would subside once she was dry and in her night gown watching the latest t.v. show this evening.
It’s going to be my first night staying with you kids!”
“Yea,” cried both girls.
Gemma would sleep in her quarters and all the children were looking forward to it. That evening Eliza’s parents left for a glamorous party upstairs where Mr. and Mrs. Glass lived.
Gemma said, “I’m going to make
ya’all hamburgers and French fries – a real treat for you!”
It looked good and all the kids were talking and conversing. “We’re
so glad Vera is long gone. Gemma can you be a real ‘Gem’ to us?”
asked Eliza.
Gemma smiled nicely and nodded.
They all watch TV in the den. Then Glinda fell asleep on the couch and Gemma ended up carrying the cute pixy to bed.
“Good night Gemma, thanks,” said Eliza as Gemma tucked them both in.
“Sure Sweetie. Kiss me dede,” she said kissing them each on the forehead.
CROW’S NEST ON THE 23RD FLOOR – UN PLAZA VANTAGE
The next day rose into a bright sparkling winter morning as the sun lifted slowly into the sky. It’s orange rays bounced and climbed over the East River winding its way around the various scrubby green parks dotting the streets of the lower East Side of Manhattan! The famous Twin Towers were in the foreground gleaming and sparkling like a contessa of diamonds all 110 floors of them!
Cars, buses and brigades of yellow cabs made their way up 1st Avenue as day overcame the twinkling lights of The Big Apple. And on the opposite end of the World Trade Center buildings, facing The Western Front across the street from the United Nations Building stood 2 tall, brilliant buildings rising up over Tudor City. The UN Plaza Towers stood alone in all their own gleaming glory!
Eliza, the curly-headed rambunctious 10 year old stared down at the long rows of shiny black foreign delegate cars lining up in front of the UN Rose Gardens. They looked like her brother’s Match Box collection, so small, yet so dignified even from that high up, over 20 stories!
She awoke to the slight commotion beginning at the UN Building, just a slight ripple of a clamor with men running to and fro, and even police cars taking positions on all 4 corners. “Wow, something is really going on today,” she said aloud. Eliza caught the slight strains of the scratching sound of radios and walkie talkies drifting all the way up to her bedroom!
The East River glistened in the background, with the 59th Street Bridge to the left and the George Washington Bridge in the distance picking up the slack for a spectacular view. It was always breathtaking, especially when something big was about to go down at the United Nations, which faced Eliza and Glinda’s bedroom.
As Eliza watched the commotion outside the window, she started thinking about Senator Robert F. Kennedy who along with his family had lived in on the 14th floor in the other tower and brushed by Eliza like a normal everyday thing. As the girl watched police come into place in front of the UN Building, she remembered the Senator coming in the elevator and actually meeting her gaze and looking straight at her big feet. He smiled and said calmly, “We have a bet going and can’t seem to figure out if you are a boy or a girl,” said the Senator.
It was hard to believe he’s been assassinated not even a year ago. Then on the day of Kennedy’s funeral at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Eliza had full eye contact and a conversation with Ethel, who at that time was dressed in all black and heading for her husbands funeral, where even Eliza’s mother and grandmother attended and sat in the front row. Eliza was thinking about this memory as even more activity was starting up at the UN.
Her father and brothers and sister were upstairs in their dad’s den watching it on t.v. scanning for them in the crowd. Meanwhile Eliza stood transfixed as she said to Mrs. Kennedy, “Don’t worry, everything will be alright, Mrs. Kennedy!” Eliza said trying to imitate how her dad said it to her when she was very ill last winter. It calmed her then and she hoped it would steady Mrs. Kennedy.
“I know, Dear,” said Mrs. Kennedy, now a widow, with a single tear making its way down her face! She smiled at Eliza and everyone in the elevator were transfixed for a split second, until the doors opened on the Lobby level and she exited with her entourage in tow as a million and one flash bulbs and camera lights shined on her. Eliza remembered that she had stayed in the elevator with Juan the operator as the clamor followed Mrs. Kennedy’s exit out the revolving doors and into a big black stretch limo. Eliza rode the elevator with Juan back up to 23, and thanked him. “Do you think Tom will tell?” asked Eliza speaking of the head front desk man who had been with the UN Plaza since it was built.
“I don’t know, Miss, you know him pretty well!”
“We’ll see, thanks Juan! By the way why didn’t they make the UN Plaza an even 40 floors instead of 38?” the imaginative, creative kid asked the old Cuban elevator man.
“I don’t know that one ‘neither, Miss Osberg,’ said Juan sweetly, but with dignity.
“Do you think it could have something to do with the 13th floor, look it’s even listed on the elevator panel?” Eliza pointed to the fancy board of round yellow lights. “Most of my friend’s buildings don’t even have a 13th floor.
“Well, I hear that most large buildings in New York City skipped the number entirely,” said Juan as Eliza left and skipped away. She was a whippersnapper that was for sure…
As that memory passed in Eliza’s mind, she sat on the window sill pondering where Ethel Kennedy and her kids had gone, which later she found out was Virginia, or Cape Cod. They used to live in the East Tower on the 14th floor!
Eliza was eagerly joined by her sister and two older brothers Richard and Roy.
“Can’t you tell that there’s something really big going on today?” said Eliza looking out at the great expanse of the city with the East River simmering with tug boats, tour boat company Circle Line and even barges hulking with trash sifting back and forth.
As she was thinking about Robert Kennedy, and the day she met him and they had a “moment” in the elevator, a vibrating sound shook the window.
Suddenly, out of nowhere a roaring black helicopter flew by. Eliza’s eyes almost popped out of her skull when she saw it. They all jumped back startled.
Eliza wondered if other tenants heard the commotion or made any big deals about it after so many years.
“I hope it doesn’t wake mom up,” said the concerned Richard, always worried about his mom Lena.
It was Tuesday morning as their mother Lena Osberg slept like a log, not even an atom bomb could disturb her deep sleep, in the sprawling master bedroom. Their father, Victor Osberg had flown to where he maintained a lace factory in New England and manufactured lace and odd women’s underwear with no cotton crotch. They were innovated in Victor Osberg’s mind, so he was trying to make them all the rage and that included his daughters wearing them! Lena always wore them; she had them in 3 different colors and designs and didn’t mind that there wasn’t a solid crotch.
Eliza’s father spent 3 days there at his two bedroom apartment, and then he’d rent a seaplane and fly back to New York City for 3 days. He usually rented the smaller plane, but sometimes flew commercial.
The Osbergs received the best tables in the restaurants, the best service, #1 seats in the theaters and the best rooms in hotels. It was in Mrs. Osberg’s nature to strive for the big things in life. She got it, but not quite like it should have been! But an interesting life for Eliza lay ahead and was destined!
The 4 of them watched out the bedroom window as the Black Hawk helicopter hovered slowly down to the front lawn of the UN and landed. People passed by it as if it was another every day occurrence. As the roaring rotors stopped their twirling a few Secret Service agents flooded the perimeter around the copter. Nothing happened at first. The kids got impatient and had to get ready for school.
“Wait, hang on,” said Eliza. “Just one second!”
“Nothing’s happening!” answered Eliza’s older brother Roy. “Who cares anyway?” He got off the window sill. Eliza knew that was standard for her older brother, who seemed to lose interest before she or her sister and other brother Richard did. He’d gone back to his bedroom he shared with his brother and was dressing for school. The oldest Osberg sibling attended a different one than his brother and sisters and there was talk about sending him to a ritzy boarding school in Upstate, New York somewhere, which sounded very exciting to Eliza, who sometimes wished she was a boy!
“Do you think Darrin or Dum-Dum know what’s happening?” asked Glinda, feeling a bit scared.
“I’m sure they’ve been briefed since they do work in the building,” said Neil trying to sound like a policeman.
Just then, as Eliza was about to give up herself, the helicopter doors opened and 3 men got out. They surrounded a cloaked figure dressed in black and grey Arab uniform, with his ‘signature’ turban.
“Look, its Arafat,” yelled Eliza, her nose glued to the window.
Gemma, their Jamaican housekeeper breezed in. “Time for breakfast,” said Gemma in a thick West Indies-like lilted accent. She’d been with the Osbergs for almost 3 years and was hired soon after they moved in to the well known UN Plaza Apartments. She had quickly become almost desensitized to the Osbergs constant clamor and energy, which was very high and it wasn’t just stupid kids talking like parrots. They brought up interesting facts, and asked many questions. And not just run of the mill questions… Questions that deserved an honest and long drawn out answer. These kids drew you out of your shell which Gemma had put herself in at first. She retreated by locking her bedroom door at the UN Plaza and watching her t.v. and ignoring them at first, especially in the evenings after she’d looked after and cleaned up after them. But as the months passed she became very involved with the kids, and that was mostly due to Fern, a very close family friend who cared for them even longer before Gemma had arrived. Not that Gemma was ignoring her duties, she knew how to handle things, and the kids did mind her.
Gemma could just imagine how the school teachers dealt with this group!…A smile came to the sweet Jamaican woman’s lips… Her big white teeth were wide and strong. She looked, at that time, in her crisp white nurses uniform and white shores, like an angel with a twinkle in her soft brown eyes. She put in many years at the Osberg residence and would probably always be there for years to come. Just then the apartment phone rang. Gemma answered. It was Tom the desk man who had been there since the building opened in 1966, and it was amazing how he ran the front lobby, like a clock. He didn’t take any crap. “Just want to remind you to keep a sharp on those kids today, Gemma,” he said briskly. Yassar Arafat is around and there’s going to be demonstrations and a big ruckus and I know I’m sticking my foot in my mouth, but keep the kids away from there, please!” he pleaded.
“Yes sir,” Gemma answered in that soft voice she used to soothe Glinda when she was crying or fussy.
“I’m talking about when they go off to school. They’ll have to leave out the back entrance of the East Tower…Have them use the service elevator down to the cellar, then wall down the hallway to the other tower and get on do as instructed. I’ve called the school and the school van and they know of this situation,” said Tom officially.
Eliza attended PS 59, otherwise known as Beekman Hill School.
“But Mr. Shelley,” said Gemma. “They’ve been taking public transportation rather than being picked up.”
Tom’s voice was livid. “What? You mean to tell me they are not being picked up by the usual school bus van or limos like the other kids in the building and surrounding area?”
Gemma was silent then avoided it all by saying, “I will make sure they make it to the bus stop far from the UN Building, Mr. Shelley.”
“Please do!” He hung up.
As Glinda and Eliza got ready for school they laughed and joked with each other as Gemma went to the kitchen and started breakfast and started explaining the plan to the children who saw it all as a game like on TV!
“Just like on the Mod Squad, I wanna’ be Peggy Lipton,” shouted Eliza.
Roy ran in and turned on the little black and white t.v. set in the kitchen. It was a “special report” which always intrigued the kids because of the seriousness of the situation and that it directly affected them because they lived right by the eye of the hurricane!
“Do you have all your school things?” Gemma breezed out of the kitchen and into the girl’s bedroom down the hall.
Their Aunt Dorothy decorated their bedroom in shades of orange, black and white. Ripe stripes of color ran above along the upper walls that were wall papered the expensive way. There was bright “orange” wall to wall shag carpeting with the two beds on either side of the bedroom. And of course the Orange bedspreads and white wicker headboards, even a little white wicker elephant used as a nightstand blended interestingly. Some of the furniture in their bedroom was converted from their nurseries; a white wicker rocking chair and a delicate lamp with a statue of a white angel holding up the bulb. Pretty frilly paintings hung on their walls as well as the girl’s own artwork and scribblings.
Both girls were dressed and had grabbed their book bags and were in the kitchen where a nice nutritious breakfast of poached eggs, crispy lean bacon, lightly buttered toast and freshly squeezed juice awaited them awaited them. Roy and Richard were already at the round glass table chowing down. They all ate heartily and with gusto, but the Osberg children were reared on the ‘salad fork’, and showed much decorum at the dining table, except sometimes Eliza, who acted up and usually got a reprimand. It was Mr. Osberg doing the yelling about it, but he wasn’t around this morning.
And when he was gone, the Osberg children ran wild and their mother indulged them with money for Bernie’s Candy Store downstairs in the Delegates Lobby while she arranged big charity events and fund raisers for certain colleges and organizations! Her resume reads like a “who is who of entertainment”, but like most mother’s involved in The Arts, she also exposed her children to many things that were not on the menu of the other families at their schools and after school centers. But Lena was able to make many friends and occupied herself with family, running seemingly endless shopping errands plus her husbands anal demands to pick up his dry cleaning, have a certain type of dinner or just be ready to go out at the drop of a hat. She, Lena ran the household smoothly and with such formality in her even and electric way!
Victor Osberg took care of them all though and took them to vacation places and Europe with his wife in the summertime while the kids went to 9 week summer camps in Maine. He lavished everything he had on his beautiful, worldly wife Lena and his four children! Life was very good at that moment and neither would change a thing. Although, he had to admit that he was a little hard on his wife, her being from that entertainment Broadway crowd, raised by a daddy that indulged her every fancy, he could understand. His Navy background warranted it, so she put up with it, because they loved each other, and had actually met twice before, years ago before the fireworks burst in air in the late 1950’s after he’d gotten out of the Navy. But that is another story. Flash forward and here they were raising a family in the best apartment building on the Lower East Side in the Turtle Bay District. Lena had even attended the famed Julliard School of music which was virtually a stone’s throw from their digs. It was Heaven for Lena, and she indulged her children and encouraged them to read and take up hobbies and take a keen interest in The Arts, Broadway and The Theatre; taking them all to the Nutcracker Suite and all the Christmas and Easter shows at Radio City Music Hall hadn’t hurt them one bit.
Mrs. Osberg got a kick out of buying her girls books on which were loosely based on a little girl named Eloise who roams the halls of The Plaza Hotel. Her family was a bit more retro 1970’s than little French Eloise’s, but the books were fun to read to the kids. In fact, Lena loved to read the books out loud, which her children loved. And when they took the kids to the Plaza Hotel for dinner, there were huge posters of Eloise and everyone kept saying how much little Glinda looked like her, even though it was blatantly obvious that Eloise resembled Eliza more than Glinda.
Eliza was just too hyper for anyone to start to pay too much attention to her thus she would get too energetic, so most times they were trying to hold her down and make her quiet. Deep down inside they all knew Eliza was a special, creative little girl. Maybe with time she would be calmer. Maybe they would one day take Dr. Shipps advice and give her a pill to help her sleep. But then, maybe not.
The kids finished quickly, maybe a bit too quickly. Gemma was on to them!
“Listen to me, you kids march right down to the East Tower and out the back door and straight to the 1st Avenue bus stop. And to make sure you do, I am going with you!”
“Ohhhh, Gemma, no,” cried Richard!
“What about Roy?” asked Eliza.
“Roy’s bus is waiting outside by the East Tower.”
“Okay, Gemma,” said Roy, never misbehaving and always doing what they asked. But he asked so many questions sometimes, and it was usually questions he already knew the answers too but he wanted attention!
Though Richard was quiet and shy, he did have a very bad temper and he could get very riled up about things. Eliza was like the battery for it all to go. Glinda fussed and cried on a dime, but got away with it because she was just so cute. She looked like a little dolly crying and you just wanted to take her in your arms and rock her back and forth and sing an old Jamaican lullaby to!
Gemma got the kids ready, like an assembly line, but everyone had either a bagged lunch stuffed with goodies, or lunch money.
She walked them out the door, waited at the elevator, rode it down, and walked them to the back entrance of the East Tower. Roy’s van was there and she deposited him with no problems. Then she walked the other three to the bus stop on First Avenue where some other ruffian looking children waited. As soon as they spotted Gemma, they started laughing and making racial slurs, something Gemma never tolerated. She gave them a very disapproving look.
As the bus came down First Avenue, Eliza was eager to get on that bus. Once they got on the bus, Eliza saw that Gemma had gotten on and was talking to the bus driver, who was a black man and Jamaican like she was. She and the bus driver got out of the bus and gave the boys a real tongue lashing which quieted them down. They were Catholic school boys and attended John Holland School farther up on First Avenue.
“You kids better mind your manners!” scolded the bus driver as Gemma left without a backwards glance. Eliza watched the little, sweet young housekeeper they had grown to love more everyday walk back to the UN Plaza.
One of the kids hustled over to Eliza. “She seems really steamed, Man,” He slurred. Something wasn’t right about these kids today.
“Leave us alone,” shouted Eliza, sort of wishing she were on Roy’s bus and going to his school rather than the rough and tumble mixed school she attended now. Not that PS 59 was all bad, she loved school.
The kids backed off when they spotted the bus driver giving them a ‘Voodoo’ eye. “Sit down boys or you’all be walkin’ to yer’ fancy school!”
The boys sat down without another word and the rest of the trip passed uneventfully. A few women got on headed uptown to the financial district were talking about the helicopter from what she’d seen on the news this morning. Eliza joined in on their conversation saying that she and her brother and sister saw Arafat and the whole thing unfolding.
“We had to go out this secret entrance that they only use in extreme emergencies!” Eliza hyped up, just to see their reaction.
Glinda laughed sweetly. Richard turned around shyly smiling and looking out the bus window.
“Where do you guys live?” asked one woman, a blond bombshell dressed in a very short mini skirt and wearing a long maxi coat.
“The UN Plaza,” said Eliza proudly.
“Wow, ritzy,” said another lady.
“Ever see any movie stars?”
That was Eliza’s cue!
“Yes, let’s see, Johnny Carson and his wife!
“What’s he like?”
“He’s sort of mean!”
“What are you saying? Johnny Carson is mean?”
“Hey, shut up Eliza,” said Richard.
“Well, this is our stop kids, if you see Johnny and he’s not acting mean, tell him I’ve got a singer he’s got to hear, okay?” She handed Eliza her card and the three women laughed and hooted and left the bus.
Eliza took the card and put it in her front pocket.
“You are not going to give it to him are you Eliza?” asked Richard.
“Maybe, maybe not!” she answered.
They would ride the city bus all the way up First Avenue. At 57th Street they would walk three blocks to 3rd Avenue where their school was. They were rarely late.
As the bus made its way down the street, the bus driver asked, “So how long has she been with you?”
“Who?”
“Your housekeeper!”
“Oh, about 3 years,” answered Eliza, suddenly thinking back to when Gemma had first come to them out of the blue after a horrible stint with a housekeeper they named Vera the Terror. All the kids were glad that Gemma was there with her sister and they were also getting to know her better each month that passed. She was a good lady and had a family of her own. Two boys and two girls, plus maybe more.
“She’s happily married though,” said Eliza.
The black bus driver sighed but handled it well, probably having many girls of his own, maybe even a wife.
“Do you love Gemma, Mr. Bus Driver?” asked Glinda.
The bus driver seemed to get shy but laughed nervously. “Nooooo, ‘course not… I have a wife,” he said, trying to sound miffed.
“She’s married too, and her husband works in our garage at the UN Plaza!”
“Not that’s fine, just fine…hmmmm,” acknowledged the bus driver as he maneuvered around multiple yellow taxis and many Town Cars clogging the bus lane.
“We love her so much!” said Eliza.
“I can see that kids!”
“She’s very nice!”
“I can see that easily,” he said. “How did you find such a…a … a … a Gem?”
They all laughed.
“I think someone recommended her because the one before Gemma was this really mean older lady.” They made a face thinking of the horrible Vera.
“Well, you’all lucky to have a lady like Gemma!”
“We know, we know,” they all agreed.
Eliza thought back to the time she had first met Gemma and already the housekeeper was like one of the family.
ELIZA’S LEGS BEHIND HER BACK TRICK!
Eliza was always very flexible. She’d be able to take her legs and fold them behind her back which would amaze even amaze the biggest and meanest of all bullies.
The curly-head, hyper girl has a fine tuned memory and could recall as far back as being 3 years old and falling asleep in the Yoga Lotus position. Mrs. Osberg would check on her daughter and would be aghast at how she folded herself all up in a round ball… Mrs. Osberg made a big problem out of it and forbade Eliza to sleep that way, as if Eliza didn’t have enough worries as it stood.
In school, starting at first grade, Eliza noticed by accident that could she could do that; the folding of her legs behind her back trick… otherwise known as, “Hey Eliza, roll up into a ball!!!!”.
But that would bring attention to her odd looking fingers, which only had 2 knuckles, instead of the customary 3 everyone had on each hand, and a few of her fingers were bent to the right, the ring fingers and the pinky on the right hand. This brought mostly “unwanted” attention to her, and that along with her crazy antics of bending her body like an Indian Yogi didn’t dull her presence that seemed to thrive on some underlying need for attention!
Then there was her keen love for the American Indians. She was so into them. And Eliza so easily had become a full fledged Far East Student as well … She would have excelled at Yoga if her parents had only allowed her even though she did have a lot of freedom of expression thanks to her mother and father.
Her dad had much experience with it when he did a stint in the Navy in the early Fifties. He’d taken a liking to the Oriental culture and art, and had many things Oriental.
They were not encouraging her to do the Yoga, and seemed dead set against letting Eliza try it. They warned her not to do it. But in school Eliza was more popular when she did the Yoga antics. It sort of empowered her and led them to change her wardrobe from the cute little dresses to the little boy’s Danskin outfits.
It should be noted that Barbara Streisand mentioned in her semi autobiography that she too could do that same trick as Eliza could do, putting her legs behind her head and rolling up into a ball, so that fueled even more antics at school. Streisand is quoted in the book to the extent of this: “When I was a kid I remember I could do this little trick for attention. I would gather the other kids around me and would plop down on the ground and roll my legs up behind my head and roll up into a ball. I got a lot of attention, until my mother found out, and knowing I was wearing dresses…Oye, oye!’