Painted Treasures

I’ve held a fascination for Myrtle Ave. that goes back to 1965. That’s the year my mother and I set off on foot for several blocks east from Flatbush Ave. The Myrtle Avenue El was still in Brooklyn, and I noticed the “dwarf” lampposts beneath the big iron. I recall “My Boy Lollipop,” by Millie Small blaring from a radio somewhere. It’s my only experience with the El, though it and I coexisted for 12 years. I think we got a bus back to familiar territory in downtown Brooklyn and never got on the El.