Almost every Sunday on our way to get bagels, Danny and I would pass the old ladies from the Church of St. Columba on West 25th Street setting up tables after mass.
“There they are,” Danny would say as we approached, “the church ladies hawking their wares.”
“For Jesus,” I’d add.
They’d be unfolding tables, arranging their treasures, and chatting in Spanish, barely noticing us. If we were late, we’d browse their merch on our way to bagels—and again on our way home.
They sold all kinds of things: knickknacks, jewelry, clothes, books, Bibles, and other secondhand odds and ends. For some reason, older folks selling things on the sidewalk always tugs at my heart.
When we lived near the West Village, I used to buy fruit—usually past its prime—from a couple selling random pieces on top of cardboard boxes outside Fantasy World, an adult video store.
In my head, they were Chinese immigrants trying to provide for their kids. He salvaged discarded produce from Chinatown vendors; she picked the perfect, low-profile spot to sell—next to a “sex” shop.
They never waved anyone over or called out. They just stood quietly against the tan-bricked wall, waiting. Some probably saw them as a blight. I saw them as entrepreneurs fueled by survival. So I’d buy fruit I’d never eat. For all I know, they were millionaires having fun. (Fantasy World is now a wine bar.)
As for the ladies outside St. Columba, we assumed they were raising money for the church or school. One Sunday Danny and I gathered a box of things we no longer needed and brought it to them to sell. At first they looked puzzled—but when they saw a couple of Christian books, they smiled and accepted our hand-me-downs.
Sadly, the Church of St. Columba has since closed. The building’s being gutted, and dumpsters now line the stretch of sidewalk where the church ladies once hawked their wares. For Jesus.
I share this because we all have wares to hawk—and no one else is coming to hawk them for us. So in that same spirit of sidewalk entrepreneurialism, allow me to hawk some of mine. They’re not bruised apples or godly knickknacks—just books and plays—but I’d love for you to read them, or gift them to someone who might. ❤️
Several of my plays have recently been published and may be purchased here.
Read more about the plays on the scripts page.
There’s a story behind every story. Here are some posts about what inspired some of my plays, along with my experience of having them developed and produced.
Backstory links:
Anchors, Talk Shows, Love and Poetry Without Motion
Andrew Reaches the Other Side
Two Spoons
Red & Tan Line
