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I think of Artie every day with a thumbnail picture of him on my desktop to remind me of him. Someone taken too soon and who had so much to live for with close friends near him. All my love Artie.
Connecting after 50+ years
2019, Serenity Living, Foster Ave, Brooklyn, NY; April 27, 2019
Connecting after 50+ years
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My friendship started with Artie at PS 152, Brooklyn possibly in the 6th grade. In JR High School we walked to JHS 240 on Nostrand Ave and Avenue K from Ocean Ave every day. Nothing changed when we went to the Midwood HS Annex, Kensington, on 18th Avenue off Ocean Parkway and at times walked there too. When one of our friends, Ron Unger, moved from Ocean Ave to Jericho LI, my mom drove us there for the day of craziness. There were many fun and goofy times we had together, but life does cause people/friends to go in separate directions. Not until February 2019 did I connect with him again by phone. Thanks to Les Ericson, I was able to meet with Artie in April 2019. Too long of an absence to rekindle our friendship after 50+ years, but we had laughs and stories to tell while looking through our Midwood HS graduation book. While Artie has taken leave from life on Earth I am sure that he will be nudging those in heaven with his beer glass held hi. Hi Artie and see you later my friend.
Casual Artie
1958, East 19th Street, Brooklyn, NY, USA
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Eating at Harvey's apartment
1959, Ocean Avenue, Brooklyn, NY, USA
Eating at Harvey's apartment
Artie ready to make a decision
1962, Patchogue, NY, USA
Artie ready to make a decision
Artie relaxing
1962, Patchogue Long Island with East 19th Street friends
Artie relaxing
There was the time Artie was on a blind date and tried to light his date's cigarette but missed and burned her nose. There was the time Barry Braun threw an iceball at him and damaged his eye. There was the time he was mugged and had his jaw broken and had to drink from a straw for 6 weeks after having it wired. There was the time he was thrown out of Richard Gaiti's brand new car because he has the window open when the air conditioner was on. There were endless nights of philosophical conversation and goofy bon mots while sitting on the stoop of 839 East 19th Street. He was a uniquely intersting and doomed man. And I miss him already.

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Arthur Mandel