NYC, while a small part of my life, holds a dear part in my heart. My family moved to New York when I was about four. My dad was, by then, Coast Guard after spending 9 years in the US Navy. We moved to Governor's Island, NY, into building 855, apartment 4B. I even remember our phone number, or at least the last half: 1421. Thinking more, I think it was 825-1421. It's been forever since we lived on GI. Most of my family has been back to visit. My dad hasn't. I haven't.
We moved away from Governor's Island the summer before I entered third grade. Right around 1999, I accessed virtual tours of the island, which were completely awesome. Memories flooded back watching these. Soon after, Governor's Island became a national monument or something similar. Many of the buildings are inaccessible today. I rely on photos from others to spark my memories.
Governor's Island was my home for nearly 4 years. I can't imagine a more memorable childhood home. I remember my preschool teacher made me a preschool graduation dress from curtains. I remember taking tea for the first time with my friend Michelle Gaskins. I thought the tea was horrible, but the friend was great. I remember my first sleep over. Kirsten Marthaler picked me out of all the kids to spend the night. We had Strawberry Shortcake ice cream cake late at night. It was probably something like 9 p.m. but we felt we were up super late.
Governor's Island is close to sea level. With the rain of Irene, high tide and storm surge, it seems likely that my childhood home will be submerged. News stations don't cover this island. Most people have never heard of it.
I worry about GI. It is no longer a place that families live, but I hold my memories.