When I was a kid attending St. Francis Academy in Union City, I walked home some days past the cloistered home of some Dominicans nuns who lived in the mysterious Blue Chapel. That was back in the old days, when St. Michael's Monastery was the centerpiece of Union City architecture; when Veronica's Veil played every Easter season; when the Passion Play at the park Theatre was a Lenten obligation never to be missed. Union City was a monument to the European Catholic diaspora - Irish priests, Italian customs, French nuns, and the German Fritz Rueter Altenheim on Union Hill.
The Blue Chapel was a place we went to buy religious articles -rosaries, cards - or to see the vestments that would sometimes be purchased and displayed along with the flowers at a funeral. I never got the past the gift shop. My mother did all of the talking. I just remember that it was very quiet, and that I had to stand very straight and still. To this day, it remains a curosity to me.
This article about the Blue Chapel appeared in this week's Star-Ledger. The connected videos are great, too. Give it a read, and remember when you were little and didn't know whether or not nuns had legs. Better yet, place yourself in the time when there was a church dominated by some ethnic group in your neghborhood, a neighborhood candy store, and you walked to the neighborhood school -Catholic or public. The world was smaller and more familiar. What was your Blue Chapel? Like Blondie, what's the power and passion of your Union City Blue?
Keep reading and writing, especially during Lent when you are not eating potato chips or pretzels or olives,
Maureen*
*Thanks, Judy, for directing me to this article
Popular Posts
-
munching a plum on the street a paper bag of them in her hand They taste good to her They taste good to her. They taste good to ...
-
In a prominent bar in Secaucus one day Rose a lady in skunk with a top-heavy sway Raised a knobby red finger - all turned from their be...
-
When I was a kid attending St. Francis Academy in Union City , I walked home some days past the cloistered home of some Dominicans nuns who...
-
The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood, Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze dr...
-
The Nightmare by Henry Fuseli, 1781 "In training, the whip must be used sparingly. But it must be used." —horse trainer's...
-
When Kim Ciak searched through her grandparents' attic to look for her late mother's Elvis Presley bubblegum cards, she instead, to...
-
Because the ostracized experience the world in ways peculiar to themselves, often seeing it clearly yet with such anger and longing ...
-
With his head On my shoulder, my newborn son Has fallen asleep. In the dark, I hold him there, resting My cheek on his forehead - a ...
-
Some dictator or other had gone into exile, and now reports were coming about his regime, the usual crimes, torture, false imprisonment,...
-
Three cats, one without a tail chickens, ducks and Bassett hounds sleeping happily under a tree across the wide yard near where ...
This was a lovely article, Maureen. Although unfamiliar with this chapel, I could get a sense of the awe and mystery of standing in a holy place.
ReplyDeleteHmmm. What was my chapel? My parents grew up in North Bergen... I was born near NB, and then in first grade we moved to the "country". I have gone back to various locations in NB and they are vastly different now than when I was little. New Durham Baptist church was likely the closest touchstone for me. It's seen many changes over the past 45 years. Traffic rushes by on Tonnelle Ave. not realizing there is a historic church alongside the roadway... your Blog photo caught my eye as my work in progress, a suspense, is based in Ocean Grove NJ --- JV writing as B. G l a s h
ReplyDeleteDon'tknow if it was your chapel or not, Jenna, but it was beautiful and creepy and old and completely out of place.
DeleteGlad you like the picture of the AP casino framework. It's an iconic place to me that I enjoy photographing. Good luck on your Ocean Grove piece. My first job was as a maid in the Laingdon Hotel on Ocean Ave.