AN: Yay! I finally am writing again. Hehe I don't own the Newsies. I don't
even own the computer that holds this story. I have nothing! But on to the
story.
1992: An apartment in Manhattan, New York City, USA
"Granddaughter let me tell you a story. Listen closely, for I don't like to repeat myself. And I'm too old to repeat this story many times anyway. Not even my daughter, or your mother knows this story, it's one I've kept to myself since -Oh goodness, it must have been about the end of the war-"
"Vietnam?" I asked.
Chuckling, "No earlier than that my dear."
I thought some more, "World War II was a long time ago, was it that war?"
"Even earlier, and if you hadn't interrupted I would have been able to tell you it was the end of the Great War."
"You mean World War One?"
"Yes but that has nothing to do with the story dear. You know that today I am very old, but in 1899 I was very young. They say three year olds cannot remember actual events and that I must be mistaking the other's stories for my own memories. But I know the truth. I remember it all. I was there, in Manhattan. That movie that all you young girls like these days. it got a lot of things right. It got a lot wrong too though.
My parents had abandoned me about two years earlier, in front of a lodging house for newsboys. The story at the lodging house went that I was clothed in raggedy clothing, and wrapped in newspaper when they found me. I had a key around my neck, just like Spot did. It was something all the newsies did if they had to abandon a child; they put a key on a cord around their necks. It was a sign to the other newsies, telling them to care for the child; it was one of their own.
For a time, the head of the lodging house cared for me. When I was nearly two years old, I began to go out with the leader of the Manhattan newsies, it was 1898, and a year before the newsies got the power."
"What do you mean? How did the newsies get 'the power?'" "Hush my child, I'm getting there. Its true, in 1899 we newsies were everywhere; there was no street in New York City we didn't populate. You could find us at Bottle Alley, Queens, the Harbor, Central Park, Harlem, Brooklyn, the Sheepshead Races, Central Park, and we would peddle our papes to any one who could read. Beggars, bums, barbers, businessmen, and beauticians, we sold to them all. My brothers went by names such as Boots, Crutchy, Racetrack, Itey, Cowboy, Bumlets, Spot, and Mush.
"The movie got our names right, they got our selling spots too. But they forgot about the girls who sold the papers, the small children working from near sunup to past sundown, and the utter lack of time to play and be children. It was the working children who ran the city, without us there would have been no New York City, land of opportunity, where the streets are paved with gold. Our New York was a harsh place, where either you or the other guy survived, and it was no place for any of us to be alone. We had each other, and some how we survived."
AN: Review!!!! I have ideas but I'm always willing to listen to new ones. =) And I promise I won't get out any fried oranges- yet.
1992: An apartment in Manhattan, New York City, USA
"Granddaughter let me tell you a story. Listen closely, for I don't like to repeat myself. And I'm too old to repeat this story many times anyway. Not even my daughter, or your mother knows this story, it's one I've kept to myself since -Oh goodness, it must have been about the end of the war-"
"Vietnam?" I asked.
Chuckling, "No earlier than that my dear."
I thought some more, "World War II was a long time ago, was it that war?"
"Even earlier, and if you hadn't interrupted I would have been able to tell you it was the end of the Great War."
"You mean World War One?"
"Yes but that has nothing to do with the story dear. You know that today I am very old, but in 1899 I was very young. They say three year olds cannot remember actual events and that I must be mistaking the other's stories for my own memories. But I know the truth. I remember it all. I was there, in Manhattan. That movie that all you young girls like these days. it got a lot of things right. It got a lot wrong too though.
My parents had abandoned me about two years earlier, in front of a lodging house for newsboys. The story at the lodging house went that I was clothed in raggedy clothing, and wrapped in newspaper when they found me. I had a key around my neck, just like Spot did. It was something all the newsies did if they had to abandon a child; they put a key on a cord around their necks. It was a sign to the other newsies, telling them to care for the child; it was one of their own.
For a time, the head of the lodging house cared for me. When I was nearly two years old, I began to go out with the leader of the Manhattan newsies, it was 1898, and a year before the newsies got the power."
"What do you mean? How did the newsies get 'the power?'" "Hush my child, I'm getting there. Its true, in 1899 we newsies were everywhere; there was no street in New York City we didn't populate. You could find us at Bottle Alley, Queens, the Harbor, Central Park, Harlem, Brooklyn, the Sheepshead Races, Central Park, and we would peddle our papes to any one who could read. Beggars, bums, barbers, businessmen, and beauticians, we sold to them all. My brothers went by names such as Boots, Crutchy, Racetrack, Itey, Cowboy, Bumlets, Spot, and Mush.
"The movie got our names right, they got our selling spots too. But they forgot about the girls who sold the papers, the small children working from near sunup to past sundown, and the utter lack of time to play and be children. It was the working children who ran the city, without us there would have been no New York City, land of opportunity, where the streets are paved with gold. Our New York was a harsh place, where either you or the other guy survived, and it was no place for any of us to be alone. We had each other, and some how we survived."
AN: Review!!!! I have ideas but I'm always willing to listen to new ones. =) And I promise I won't get out any fried oranges- yet.