By Rebekah Logan
Rebekah_Logan@yahoo.com
To someone coming upon Park 52 for the first time, it would appear to be nothing more than a glorified slab of concrete, and would no more stand out from dozens of other South Bronx playgrounds than a tarnished dime would gleam in a littered gutter.
The park, located on Kelly Street between Avenue St. John and Legget Avenue, is imprisoned by ramshackle chain-link fencing, its gates sagging from rusted hinges. Its bright blue walls are blotchy, and graffiti mars its lamps and benches. A spider web of cracks sprawls from the basketball court to the sidewalk.
The grim buildings across the street are set on foundations just stable enough to avoid condemnation. And, beneath them are the shadow lands where the homeless huddle, and the drug dealers hide.
Yet if you looked you looked at Park 52 closely enough, you would notice its two gardens, become aware of the modest Miranda Theater where local jazz, salsa and reggae artists perform in the summer, and wonder why the park’s walls are blue, and not the standard city park green.
On an exceptionally nippy fall day, Al Quinones, father of 52 People for Progress, a non-profit park and garden volunteer organization, explained exactly what sets this park apart.
Quinones is human salsa. Every word is peppered with a thick Bronx accent. Intensity brims from his dark eyes and his bigger-than-life persona dwarfs his small physical stature.
As he patrolled Park 52, Quinones chronicled its history.
In the burning South Bronx of the 1970s, drug dealers and their clients took over Park 52. Incensed at the fate of the playground he grew up in, in 1980 Quinones teamed up with three of his childhood friends, Eugene Demera, Eduardo Rivera and Victoria Medina, and created 52 People for Progress.
“This place is an extension of our childhood. We all used to play together here. Back when we were kids, there used to be an attendant here, someone to give us basketballs to play with. It made us sick to see it all messed up, so we started taking care of it ourselves,” Quinones said.
Funds were sparse and the group lacked equipment, but armed with brooms, paint brushes, and determination, 52 People for Progress swept up the rubbish and painted the park benches and tables electric blue.
Next they transformed a make-shift garbage dump into what is now Bill Rainey Garden.
The name is a memorial to the director of the PAL’s Lynch Center, for whom a park on Longwood Avenue is also named.
“Mr. Rainey was a great man and my personal mentor,” Quinones said. It took three years to get the garden named for Rainey, because some in the Hispanic community “didn’t think it was right to name the garden after a black man,” he said. “But, we wouldn’t go away. We fought, we screamed and we won.”
Later, the group created the Demera Santiago Garden, a memorial to two men referred to by Quinones as “the old timers,” Eugene “Fat Fred” Demera and Osvaldo Santiago.
Continuing to expand the park’s programs, in 1991 the group began the outdoor concert series in the Miranda Theater.
While officially the Parks Department is responsible for management of the park, People for Progress secured a permit that allows it to paint, clean and plant. The group also has the department’s authorization to staff the attendant’s office.
Quinones grumbles, though, that the Parks Department does a “half-assed job.”
“I put in orders for a new bench or park repairs, and they say there’s no money. Half the time, when they clean, they just stand around with the brooms.
“Look,” he said, gesturing to a motley-colored wall: “They don’t care what the paint job looks like. They paint green over our blue. As long as it’s painted they don’t care; they don’t take pride in their work. They just do it for the paycheck.
“So we come back out and paint it blue after they leave. Just because it’s a South Bronx Park, doesn’t mean it can’t be nice. They wouldn’t let graffiti like this be all over a park in Riverdale, so why here?”
A spokeswoman for the Parks Department, Jesslyn Tiao, defended the agency, saying its workers were “diligent about fixing minor repairs.”
She also praised Quinones and his organization.
“This group is very active in regards to painting the park. Normally, we give out standard park paint. However, we have purchased the colors they requested, even though they are more expensive. We admire that Mr. Quinones is so attached to the park.”
Quinones is not the only person devoted to Park 52. In the park attendants office, which 52 People for Progress has transformed into something of a shrine to all of the volunteers who contributed to improving the park, James Melendez offered a photographic tour of the group’s history.
An active member of the organization, Melendez pointed to the “before” picture showing heaps of trash on the land that is now Bill Rainey Garden, where from spring to late fall, grape and tomato vines wrangle for the sun’s attention.
Melendez beamed as he moved from photo to photo, each of which told a story. Many of the children on the wall, he said, were now married with children of their own. Some of the older men and women had passed away.
The sky grew dark, and an icy draft came in as his son ran in with a basketball. Melendez told the boy to put the ball in its place.
“Tomorrow, no basketball ’til you sweep the court,” he said.
“OOOO,” the boy groaned.
“When kids come up to us and they want basketballs, we give them a broom. That’s what the attendants used to do to us. Now we teach our kids to do the same,” Melendez explained.
“The youth who come here respect the park. We teach them that.
“We come here every night, and volunteer our time. Why? Because that’s the rent you pay to live on this earth. We feel good. It’s our community,” Melendez said.