I moved to New Jersey on March 11, leaving Manhattan after nearly fourteen years as a full-time resident.

A team of organizers packed me up on the 10th. Movers hauled my belongings to my new home at Lantern Hill the next day, where that same team unpacked me, arranged my furnishing in their new environs, made my bed and filled my new closets and kitchen cabinets  with my New York City goods. 

My job has been to absorb the impact and significance of those days.

New York is in my genetic code. This relocation is a big deal.

Growing up in White Plains, NY, the daughter of two Bronx natives, I was introduced to the wonders of The City early. Some of my first memories are visiting my father, who worked at Stern Brothers department store. We not only shopped seasonally with his employee discount, but also toured the creative department he headed. One of his colleagues memorably sat me at a drawing board, supplied colored pencils and paper, and hung a dress in front of me to sketch – as though for an advertisement.

My mother took my sisters and me to see Mary Martin as Maria in The Sound of Music at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre. Our orchestra seat tickets were $5 each – not an insignificant amount at the time and a luxurious treat. It was love at first curtain. Intimidated by the speed of this pulsating city and its large crowds, I clutched my mother’s hand until we reached our destination. 

I attended Columbia Teachers College from 1970-1971 and found a very different urban landscape. Panhandlers stood at nearly every doorway around the theatre district. The apartment I lived in after graduating was infested with cockroaches. The subways were not yet air conditioned — overcrowded and litter-strewn. I was happy to leave in 1972 for a teaching job in leafy Fairfield County.

When I returned in 2012, I found a vastly improved and safer city and chose a home on the Upper West Side for easy access to Broadway. I quickly became friends with another theatre-lover, Holly, and count among my happiest memories the day we scored tickets to The Music Man during a blizzard. I’d been unwilling to pay premium prices, and suspected people would cancel because of the weather. We arrived at the box office — me with ski poles in hand — and secured house seats that had been turned in. A friend who worked backstage assured me we’d landed $800 seats for a fraction of that cost. We enjoyed the show even more knowing this.

Holly, a trustee with the Theatre Development Fund, invited me to join her for a private tour of the Costume Collection in Astoria. Acres of costumes hung on layered racks — imagine your dry cleaner’s filling a football field. We were allowed not only to touch garments from original productions, but even to try them on. Those costumes are rented to theatre groups across the country, giving them new life and bringing a touch of Broadway to communities everywhere. 

Both Holly and I had moved from Connecticut to NYC in our sixties and were equally eager to drink it in. We boasted about our growing insider knowledge — proud to stand precisely in the right place on the subway platform at 79^th Street so we’d exit closest to our destination. We celebrated birthdays at carefully researched restaurants, traveling to distant boroughs like Queens for Peking duck carved tableside at Juqi.

Along the way, I collected pockets of New York trivia that thrilled me — like how Times Square got its name or why the #1 train runs above ground at 125^th Street. Hard-earned insider knowledge, even when I wasn’t looking for it. (email me- jane@janepollak.com for the answers!)

Before I moved away, I took a chance and signed up to visit Humorville in Williamsburg, an enchanting ‘village’ where I received a personal tour. (See coupon below). 

As my last outing as a New Yorker, I headed to Ellis Island for the Hard Hat Tour. There is always something new to discover here.

I’ve ‘used’ my grandchildren as an excuse to revisit the Rockettes who never fail to break my heart with their precision and beauty. Or to explore places like the Museum of Illusions and the Museum of the Moving Image.

As you can tell, New York has filled my heart and soul for my entire life. I attribute my creativity, excitement about differences in humanity, and drive to grow and be recognized, to decades of exposure to this metropolis. When I moved from Connecticut to New York in 2012, a friend there said, “Makes sense. You reek of New York!” I considered it high praise.

I truly can’t get enough of it.

But my days of 24/7 immersion have ended. I will visit often and continue to be exhilarated by what I see. Realistically, though, I desire something different at this stage of life. After three emergency room visits (see my October newsletter), I’ve proactively moved to a senior-centered lifestyle. I explored three different Continuing Care Residential Communities and chose the one that is closest to my son, daughter-in-law, and grandsons. 

There’s a scene in the movie Kramer vs Kramer where the Dustin Hoffman character is deciding whether to take a high-earning job or to be more available to his young son. He lists all reasons to accept the job. Then he looks in on his sleeping child, returns to his list, and tears it up.

That’s how I feel about this decision.

There is no measuring device for my feelings about my family compared with my feelings about this city.

My father used to say of my mother, “You can take the girl out of the Bronx, but you can’t take the Bronx out of the girl.” Hopefully, I’ve brought my Manhattan-ness with me to New Jersey and will bring my cherished family with me more often to New York.

The city has shaped me, energized me, challenged me, and delighted me for decades.

I owe New York more than I can say.

Humorville info to book your visit:

Use this code for a 25% discount: JANESCONNECTIONS-VIP