JAWARA KASHKA
Quiet on the set! Action! Oh hello! My name is Jawara Kashka, nickname Doc because Julius Erving, the basketball player that used to play for the Seventy-Sixers. That was my idol - Julius "Dr. J". Irving. So, since my name is Jawara, and his name is Julius, that's how I got the name. I used to have game like him at a time, but I could never dunk.
I'm originally from Kansas City, Missouri. I was born and raised in the 'hood. We didn't have no snow days. You know, when it snowed - you went. Parents said, I see you when you get back. If you don't get back that's just one less mouth we have to feed. The only time we saw a school bus what when we was going to, like a museum or a park or something. No school buses took us.
And at 18, I was on my own. I was 20 when I was married, and by 30, I was married twice. I was a grandfather at age 40 and a great grandfather at 60.
When I left Kansas City, it must have been, at least '76. Went to Hackensack, New Jersey for 11 months. One of my friends used to be a busboy at this restaurant we used to work at in Kansas City, called Hoolihan's Little Place. And so, then he became a chef in Hackensack. I said, Where is Hackensack at? He told me, he said, Oh, you get on the bus and be in the Big Apple about 45 minutes. So, I got up, I came north and the papers followed me - and worked in Hackensack in Hoolihan's Little Place for 11 months. Then we lost our job. And then this Italian guy named Frank D'Anamato used to live in Union City, New Jersey. Nice guy, nice guy. He always used to tell us, If you ever get in trouble, just let me know. He was like 6'2", string bean, in shape. Only thing he wore was referee shoes, black pants, white shirt, and a black bow tie. And carried a short nose .357 in his briefcase. Sent us to Fortune job agency in New York City, and that's how I landed in Westport - 1979.
I can't repeat what I said, but I'm like saying, Al - another black guy that came with me - I said, I don't know where we at man, but Whoa! So, the day we walked in Ships - Ships Restaurant - it was like real loud. I'm talking . . . the place was packed. And it had that old squeaky door. As soon as we stepped in there - and we had our trench coats on, three-piece suits, briefcase, looking very professional. I didn't even know where I was at. So, the door squeak real loud and all of a sudden - it was so loud - and I all of a sudden saw like a couple of eye blinks and the place got quiet. And I say, I think we here. I said, it's just that commercial when E.F. Hutton talk, everyone listen, and I said, Oh man!
Then a few minutes...so the hostess came, said, Hi, Can I help you? We ID'ed ourselves, showed her our business card. We say, We're here to see Mr. Kaufman about the two cook jobs they got. She says, OK. So, she called upstairs to him. And he came down. And like I said, up stage left, there he was just staring like deers in the headlights, like, Whoa! What did I spend four hundred and fifty dollars for, for two cooks? He was shocked. I said, Al, that's him.
So that's what I did. And I worked at Ships from '79 to '85. And that was my first job in Westport. I don't know exactly after Ships where I went, but I can tell you the places I work there. OK. I worked in Connelly's - Connolly's restaurant. I like Connolly's. I worked at Connolly's, I worked at Glen's Cafe, worked at Onion Alley, worked at Oliver's. Where else I used to work at? Oh, Zaro's bakery - used to manage that. Boston Chicken. Where else? Boston Chicken. Oh, this place named Holly's. They didn't last long. The guy was just sitting there. He messed it up. They shut him down. And a place called E.J.'s. They out of New York and everything. They specialize in pancakes and stuff, and I said, Man, ain't nobody gonna be coming in Westport paying no $7.95 for pancakes, man. You done lost your mind? "I'm just doing what the company tell us to do." And I think I was 33 when I say, You know what? I think it's time for me to change my profession 'cause I don't want to get burnt out before I get to 40, if I live that long.
I remember when we used to take our breaks and we'd go down to Compo Beach. Back then the number one cars were Volvo station wagons. Everybody had a Volvo. Round about 2002 between 2005, I saw a big change happen. Oh, it hit hard. That's when all that cyberspace start coming here. The big Suburbans, the big mega houses round here and stuff. Different people moving in and everything were just like on a roll, and it's been rolling like that in ever since.
So, I'm down at Compo, working, I had walked my 1.2 miles - docks and stuff. My job is just like Congress. But I do do 16 hours a week. And the only thing we do is just responsible - just - secure the boats that people have in the water and stuff and talk on a two way from Longshore up to Compo Marina and stuff and that's it. I got an easy job.
So back in 2014, there were some guys playing basketball. So, I said, OK guys. You know the lights cut off at 10:30. They said, Doc, we know. And they said I took a few steps and I just fell. Boom. Next thing I know, there is my daughter from Houston, Texas and my brother from Columbia, South Carolina. And I said, Where I'm at? Oh, you're in Bridgeport Hospital. I said, What happened? Well, Daddy, you had a heart attack at work.
I had to go like three months of rehab and stuff and everything. And they told me, they said, Doc, your days working at Compo Marina is over. So, they shipped me down to Longshore Marina. And I've been with the company now nine years. And I've been down at Longshore for three.
I live in Canal Park. Everyone in this complex - something got to be wrong with you. Ain't no straight people here. You got to have an illness to be here. Only people that's straight is management.
I made it this long and I'm just still laughing. Long as I can keep laughing, I'm happy. If you can give someone a hug and a kiss every day and say you love them, your job has been well planned for today. Come by and visit me at any day at Apartment 7F where the orange cone is. Just ring the doorbell. I talk to anyone.
