Kitty Genovese: A True Account of a Public Murder and Its Private Consequences by Catherine Pelonero

Brooklyn, the most populous borough of New York City at the time, with more than two million residents within its borders.
    Born at the depths of the Great Depression, growing up in the shadow of World War II and then the Korean War, her childhood had nevertheless been a comfortable one spent in the embrace of loving parents and a large extended family of aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents. She had been named Catherine after her paternal grandmother, which was in keeping with Italian custom (though friends from as far back as elementary school remember always calling her Kitty), and of course the family was Catholic, though as the years progressed Kitty would remain so more in name than in practice. Eventually she would find herself in conflict with certain expectations of the church, but that would come later. As a child, religion and its rituals were simply a natural thread in the fabric of a world woven from traditions shared by most of her peers, and the scope of this world did not extend much beyond walking distance from her home.
    Kitty’s father, Vincent, was an intelligent, hard-working son of Italian immigrants who had worked his way up from salesman to entrepreneur by the time she was a young child. He owned and operated his own small business in Brooklyn called the Bay Ridge Coat, Apron & Towel Supply Company while Rachel tended their homeand growing family. After Kitty came her brother Vincent, Jr., two years younger. Eight years later came sister Susan, followed by brothers Bill and Frank. The gap in their ages actually accounted in part for the close relationships between Kitty and her younger siblings; she had been like a second mother to them, a role she embraced.
    Throughout Kitty’s childhood, the family lived in a classic brownstone at 29 St. Johns Place in Park Slope, a vibrant area in western Brooklyn, home to scenic Prospect Park and the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Park Slope at the time was heavily populated by working class families of Italian heritage much like her own, living in the close quarters of the four-story brick row houses and brownstones that lined the side streets.
    Her childhood was not unlike that of other kids growing up in Brooklyn of that era, walking to and from school, playing on the stoops and sidewalks, roller skating on streets bereft of cars due to gas rationing during World War II—the upbringing of city kids in the pre-electronics age, with leisure time spent largely outdoors on concrete playgrounds of their own making. The apartments in which they lived were usually too small and crowded for indoor play, particularly since households back then tended to have more members.
    May Trezza grew up a block away from Kitty and was a friend of hers from elementary through high school. She could not recall ever being inside Kitty’s home or having Kitty inside hers. “We just stayed outside in those days,” May remembered. “Outside and in our own neighborhood, but that’s how we all got to know each other. Wherever you were, there was someone who knew you or your parents. It was sort of like having the whole block as your babysitter.”
    Neighborhoods typically were ethnic enclaves, separated by boundaries no less distinct for being imaginary. Staying within those boundaries meant streets that felt familiar and safe. It was common to find groups of kids playing outside without any adult supervision in sight. With parents occupied by tending the home or trying to scratch out a living during those lean Depression years, kids often supervised themselves in free time, the older kids looking out for the younger ones.
    May Trezza recalled the structure of their growing up years. “Everybody’s routine was pretty much the same. We got out of school early on Wednesdays to go to religion classes. Even if you went to public school, your teachers insisted that you go to your church class.
    “Kitty was the oldest girl in an Italian family just like I was, and we were expected to help