I grew up in a small city in the South of France. When something was broken, dirty, noisy or dangerous, it was an easy process to fix it. We just had to go to ity all, see thesecretary and within an hour, we would be speaking with the mayor. He would listen to our concerns and on occasion he would even go visit the site of the issue himself. Then he would take reasonable measures to fix it. I know it sounds like a fairy tale, and the Mayor’s secretary was indeed a kind of a fairy, but this truly is how things worked. Maybe this was the reason why this small city was such a lovely place to live. Everybody’s concerns were addressed, and therefore in turn we felt responsible and somehow, in charge.
Now I live in New York City. It is exhilarating to live in such a big city withrestaurants, cultural events, street fairs and above all, its people. While the city is my playground and my place of work, the West Village has become my home. Together with my neighbors, we share the same streets, the same shops, and often exchange smiles when we pass familiar faces. Of course, we also share the dirtiness of the streets, the noise of bar patrons, motorcycles, and sirens, not to mention the constant construction which on winter and rainy days can turn a simple walk into an obstacle for kids and old people. There are many concerns, and we can’t really pay a visit to the Mayor’s secretary to help us resolve these issues.
But here, in our West Village, local associations have reproduced the wonderful system of a small village like the one where I grew up. Members meet and discuss how to protect and improve this neighborhood we share. We plant flowers around tree pits and recently, when a developer had plans to build a 8 story condominium building on 7th Avenue South, a group of neighbors raised their objection to the Community Board as well as the Landmarks Preservation Commission. Thanks to the many people who joined the effort, we were able to get some results. The Landmarks Preservation Commission required the developer to lower the elevation of the building. It’s not as much we hoped, but it is better than nothing.
I have a deep appreciation for this community, so when I received an email last week from George Capsis, I immediately read it. This man who has given so much to our neighborhood, not only by founding the Charles Street Association but also by devoting much of his time to our local newspaper, was asking us to consider a project of particular personal importance to him: the construction of a ench on Charles Street. Apparently the city has initiated a program encouraging neighborhoods to trade one parking spot for a bench. I thought this was a wonderful idea. If there is something in NYC we are not lacking, it is cars. But places where people can rest on their way to do their daily shopping one thing we are truly missing. Mr. Capsis also asked that the bench in question be dedicated to his beloved wife Maggie. This request touched me deeply. The Capsis’ have spent most of their life in the West Village and have shaped and influenced this community we call home. After 50 years together, they were still so in love that they become an inspiration for me. I have so many fond memories of passing Mr. Capsis and his wife on the street, paying my respects and wishing them a good day.
One day while out for a walk, Maggie had said to George, “I’ve got to sit down, now.”
There was a look of desperation in her eyes that he had never seen before. Part of her left lung had been removed and she had great difficulty breathing. Maggie pleaded with George to “sit down” and to sit down “now!” But there was no bench around, so they entered a shop to find a place to rest. The shop clerk sneered “his is not a sitting shop.” Yes, this happened right here in our civilized neighborhood. This is why I was so moved by the proposal of the bench and the dedication. Maggie has unfortunately left this world, but there are so many Maggies among us who are getting older and deserve our respect and a place to rest.
I remember a small city in South of France where the people felt they belonged, and that they had a voice to change and influence their community. This sense of belonging and involvement makes a big world more human. But it doesn’t have to be just a dream. Like Maggie’s ench is for Mr. Capsis, it’s a dream that can become true if we want it.
So if you think that trading a parking spot for a bench where all generations, old and new, can sit, rest, and convene, please take a moment to think about it and share your thoughts.
Maybe next spring this dream might come true.
Very respectfully
Marc Levy
