Superspic , livre ebook

iUniverse - Albert Ortiz

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34 pages

English

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To motivate and show that being a victim is not an option, no matter your beginnings.
This book is intended for those children, teens or adults who think that their lives are not important. Raised by a single mother, who raised me and two younger sisters. Who was my most important mentor, teaching us to dream and follow those dreams wherever they take you. Taught us to respect, but expect that respect. Her most important advise was to go through the door, the minute one opened. My go to motto is "being a victim is not an option".

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Biography

Autobiography

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Publié par	iUniverse
Date de parution	22 décembre 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781663249296
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

SUPERSPIC
ALBERT ORTIZ

SUPERSPIC

Copyright © 2023 Albert Ortiz.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

iUniverse
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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6632-4928-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6632-4929-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022923658

iUniverse rev. date: 12/22/2022
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
CHAPTER 1

The Bronx is a place that has seen its share of famous singers, and actors. stories like a Bronx Tale and singing groups like Dion and the Belmonts, Larry Chance and the Earls. Then there is me. Though not famous, I am the successful product of a single mom, raising three children with very little money. We all made it, thanks to her. The title of my book will probably get some people offended or insulted, especially today, with the diplomatically correct nonsense going on, but it is being used to describe me and no one else. I don’t use it to offend, but to motivate and inspire ot hers.
In 1973, my senior year at DeWitt Clinton High School, I was picked to play the lead role in a school play. The play was put on by a Puerto Rican youth social group. It was the story of someone coming from the hills (Jibaro) of Puerto Rico, arriving in New York City and being in awe of the big city. He then gets attack by a couple of individuals, and when they tear off his shirt they find a superspic shirt underneath. I continued using the name Superspic and when someone did or does call me a spic, I corrected them by saying “No, I am superspic”. This deflates the bigot who thought he was going to use it to insult me. I have used SuperSpic several times in my life. I will continue to use it and I don’t care if it’s not politically correct. join me on my journey or don’t. I hope yo u do.
I was born in New York City, at the old Harlem Hospital on the 4 TH of July 1955. I am proud to say that I am a New York Rican. my mother was Genoveva Morales-Alejandro, born on the 20 TH of January, 1929, in Rio Alto, Las Piedras, Puerto Rico. I have two younger sisters named Sonia and Nancy. I will be using the term “mami” in this story because that is what we always called our mom. The information I write about mami, was the information mami gave me because I always made sure I asked and wrote down information about her.
She was my mom and dad and I always thanked her for being who she was and raising me to be a man. Mami was also my biggest role model, mentor and outstanding cheer leader. Mami’s words of wisdom were “respect others, but you make sure they respect you”. There were more wise words during my growing up, but the respect one proved on point again and a gain.
Mami arrived in New York City in 1949, from Puerto Rico . Life in Puerto Rico for mami, didn’t allowed much schooling and she was farmed out to her older siblings or other relatives to help them with anything they needed. I learned years later that mami’s dad was very brutal with her. The last straw for her was when her dad witnessed a male teacher talking with and showing interest in mami. Though she was an adult he still physically beat her. That’s when mami decided to leave Puerto Rico. I learned that she didn’t talk to him until several years later. She made up with him, but she didn’t forgive him. I was at her hospital bedside when she forgave him as she received her last rites on the 21 ST of December 2017. She died on December 26, 2017. She is now my a ngel.
Mami was assisted on her move to New York City by an aunt named Anna. She resided with several others in Anna’s home in the Bronx. Mami told me that the lady was not very pleasant, and that she paid Anna $12.00 dollars a week, for paying her plane fare to New York City. She finished paying Anna in 1955. Anna also charged mami for meals if she ate in her home. However, in fairness to Anna, she did facilitate mami’s move to new york city.
Mami found employment at a garment factory located at 625 Broadway where she worked as a seamstress for ten years and was paid . 79¢ an hour. The hours were 9:00 am-5:00 pm and her boss was a man named Leo. It was during this time while working at the factory where she developed lifelong friends who would be like family for her.
She moved out of Anna’s home and lived in different apartments in Manhattan, including an apartment she shared with her sister Amparo. I visited with Tia Amparo in 2006, and Tia told me that she returned to Puerto Rico because the cold weather had gotten her very ill. I know mami also had illnesses due to the cold, but when I asked mami why she stayed in New York, she responded that she loved New York. She loved New York City until her last br eath.
My dad was Jose Gabriel Ortiz, born in Barranquita, Puerto Rico. I don’t know much else about my dad. In the summer of 1968, mami took me to Puerto Rico and introduced me to my father. She was adamant about me meeting him and getting to know him. The meeting was pleasant, but not emotional. I got to meet my grandma (dad’s mom) who was already in the late stages of Alzheimer. Mami sent me again the following summer for two weeks, with the hopes of my dad and I getting to know each other a little better. However, that didn’t go very well. If he said blue, I said black and vice versa. I did meet him a few more times as I got older, but we never did have a relationship. I was told by mami that he left before I was born and showed up when I was a year old.
I started working on my family tree, and discovered that he died on August 28, 2002, at the age of 69. I have forgiven him for not being there, because I don’t know what kind of life he had that made him the father he wasn’t. I also found years ago that he had a daughter named Ysenia. I was able to meet her and we stayed in touch for a while, but eventually we lost contact. It’s funny because I am meeting all kinds of 2 ND ,3 RD ,4 TH , 5 TH and more cousins from my dads’ side through DNA on Ancestry. I wish I had been smart enough to ask questions when I met his siblings, but I didn’t and they are all gone.
my sisters’ dad was Angel. We lived with Angel on the 5 TH floor of 547 West 142 Street, New York, and lived there from 1957 - 1960, and then they separated. I don’t know much about him either, but I do remember him visiting my sisters at an apartment where my mom was renting a room on the 6 TH floor, from a lady named Dona Ana. The building was located at 601 W. Broadway. The lady’s husband was a Merchant Marine, so she was always alone. I remember standing next to mami when she received a call informing her that Angel had passed of a heart attack. She started to cry and then finds out at the funeral parlor that he had another family! He died on the 17 TH of October 1962, at the age of 30. Mami didn’t do well with the men she picked, So she decided to stay alone even though we would suggest to her that she meet someone. Her comment was always “I don’t need anyone and I will not bring anyone here who is going to hurt my kids”. My mom was very beautiful, petit, loving and t ough.
I was taken care of by a lady named Mita, while mami worked, and I spent a lot of time with Mita, many times not sure of mami’s or my sister’s whereabouts. That mystery was solved after I was much older when mami explained that my sisters were being taken care of by a lady named “Tata”, on the 2 ND floor of the 601 W. Broadway building. Mita was a character that I still remember today. She was a very strong brunette who ruled with an iron hand. I remember going with her to a little area with benches in the middle of Broadway Blvd. She would sit and watch a hardware store between 141 street and 142 street. A man working there would spot her, come over and talk with her. he would show up later at her apartment and they would get it on. I remember her putting me in a bedroom and telling me to stay and not to come out until she told me to come out. However, I did leave the room a few times and I could hear some noises coming out of her bedroom. I finally understood as I got much older that they were getting it on. I was only 6 years old, so what did I know, lol.
I was living with Mita when I attended first and second grades at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic School. It’s also where I did my communion and confirmation. I remember one day returning to Mita’s after I got out of school. I entered the building and there was this man who said hello and then handed me a nickel. I took the nickel and when I looked up, the man was playing with himself! I screamed and threw the nickel at him and ran up one flight of stairs to Mi ta’s.
I told Mita what had happened and she grabbed a knife and went looking for him. I am glad she didn’t find him, because she would have cut off his pecker. One of the memories that I have of Our Lady of Lourdes was being taught to play the piano by a nun. One of her techniques in teach