The Spotlight Shines On Yours Truly, And People From My Past Are Coming Out Of The Woodwork...

51 Birch Street is about to open theatrically on Wednesday, and I can't deny it's nice to be getting a fair share of media attention.  Both the New York Times and Newsday published huge articles this week with humongous photos and sensational headlines ("The Secrets At 51 Birch Street" screamed Newsday, to my family's endless amusement).  Well, one of the great rewards has been hearing from so many people from my distant past, and what I love most is that they're not at all shy about sharing.

So, for those of you who wonder what it's like to have your 15 minutes of fame, here's a random sampling from the hundreds of daily emails flooding into my email inbox in the past week, from the banal to the eloquent:

• Hi Doug.  You probably don't remember me, but I was your sister Ellen's good friend through junior high and high school, and I lost touch with her about 20 years ago.
• Doug:  It may take you a few moments, but I trust you'll remember your old friend Josh Wiener, from Camp Eisner (and Long Island) days, best I recall.  I have fond memories of our friendship, and of course found the article about your film and your career very interesting.   After all these years!
• This is your old neighbor, Diane Merker - 57 Birch.  How do I get a copy of this film - I would love to see it.  The only thing strange that I remember about your family is that your Dad saved money by having everyone bath in the same bath water.  When my sister Merryl would have a sleep over, she got the last bath!!
• Dear Doug, This morning, I read the article about your movie in Newsday and immediately logged onto your website. That was at 8:15 this morning. It is now noon, and I just finished posting my story on your site.  I live in Port Washington, on Lewis Lane. I'm originally from Brooklyn; my husband and I moved to Port in 1995. We now have two children, 10 and eight. I refuse to keep family secrets, as I had more than my share growing up
• I grew up around the corner from Birch St. on Fairview Ave...The reason for me writing you is because I have a 17 year old son who is a junior in HS.  We are currently evaluating colleges for Film, TV and Digital Media field of study.  My background is Engineering and I don't have that experience in Film Study like someone with your experience.  I have some questions for you...
• Doug, it's Jamie from 46 Birch Street, and I too have many warm memories of playing in the "dead end" across from your house.  I remember there was always a "foreign car" (I think it was a SAAB - way ahead of their times) parked in front of "51 Birch".  Thanks for bringing it all back.
• Doug, good luck from former resident of 65 Birch St.  Remember playing kickball, baseball, tag, etc. in the "dead end" after dinner?
• Just a quick hello from the current owners of 51 Birch Street... Congratulations on the success of your film. We look forward to seeing it.  I'm not sure when you've last seen the house but the construction is coming along.
• Dear Doug,  I was astonished to open the Times to see a huge picture of the Block family circa the time that I was friends and roomates with your sister Karen...  I'm married, have an 11 year old son and live in the burbs ...stilll commute daily to my job as design director at a textile company in the city...  Please let Karen know that I would like to hear from her.
• Dear Mr. Block: Your family photo album does bring back so many memories.  The pictures of you at 5 years old ( minus grabbing your crotch) are how I remember you. It is interesting to read what you say about the lack of affection from our parents. My family suffered from the same disease from my parents- especially my mother. Until the day she died I could not remember her telling me she loved me- unless in some form of a nursery rhyme. My Dad ( a translator during WW2- fluent in Japanese and Chinese) used to want to tell us stories- we could care less. When he died in 91 we found an autobiography he wrote- quite fascinating.  I grew up in the 1950s and I felt my own mother's angst on many different levels.  A beautiful and multitalented woman, my stay-at-home Mom was literally held "prisoner" by my father, who was domineering and demanding.  If he said, "Jump," we all said, "how high?" (including my mother).  My parents were married for over 60 years....until my father's death at the age of 92.  I never could understand why they stayed together after the kids were grown and gone. I thought for sure my mother would have opted for a new life...a new beginning. But she never did and at the age of 77, she still lives in the now self-imposed isolation my father created for her those many years ago.

Comments

[Agnes Varum]

WoW! I'm so glad I'll get to be there tonight. The Q&A is going to be amazing!