I grew up in Greenpoint Brooklyn on Manhattan Ave. I was making my communion in May of ’61. Before we went to church my buddies Kevin and Rob were on India Street playing stickball. There was still an hour before we had to leave, so I snuck out of the apartment while my mother wasn’t looking. I didn’t have time to change out of my suit. We were winning by 1 run until I tripped on my way to second, and shredded the knees right off my communion pants. I had ten minutes before I had to be at St. Cyril’s to make my communion so I rushed home, picturing my mothers angry expression when she’d see my torn suit. My mother was furios, but we got to church only a couple minutes late.
Original author: Anonymous