And She's Gone

At around 7:30 last night, Adam and I heard a tap tap tapping in our backyard. A strange time for hobbies or maintenance, thought we. Upon further investigation (ie. looking out the window), we saw two men working under the cover of darkness to remove the four-foot tall Virgin Mary statue from the neighbor's backyard, where it had been standing under an iron trellis ever since we moved in. One had a flashlight, the other a hammer and a chisel, and they worked with the nervous stealth of car thieves and first-time johns.

And now she's gone. Just like that.

Now, when we moved into this apartment, I was kind of creeped out by this substantial backyard shrine. 'Twas difficult to relax on the fire escape, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes, without hearing "Repent! Repent!" ever so faintly in the distance. As I became more familiar with and desensitized by the voluminous heap of Catholic kitsch in this neighborhood, * the creepy factor diminished slightly, but never faded completely. I'm not entirely sad to see her gone.

Paragon of Catholic Kitsch:


But the mode of removal is by far the creepiest element of the story. Two men, clad in black, in the middle of the night, under cover of darkness? Ok, so maybe they weren't clad in black, and it was only 7:30, but still... one has to wonder. Is Greenpoint so rabidly Catholic that to remove a plaster Mary in broad daylight would result in nothing less than a full-scale riot? After all, on April 2nd, 2005, you would have thought the end of the world was nigh for the tone on the streets of our fair 'hood. NPR was even broadcasting live from right outside St. Anthony of Padua.

And then, where did they take her? They certainly didn't put her on the curb. Who has her now? Who are they?!?

So many questions that I fear will never be answered to any degree of satisfaction.

* Big thanks to Jon for coming through with Jesus!! I wish I could post more visuals, but Michelle took back her camera. Maybe I'll devote an entire posting to the stuff sometime.