Haunted Brooklyn Heights Playground? Or Something Else . . .

We were walking at night in the deserted Harry Chapin playground in Brooklyn Heights. It was the kind of quiet that only happens in a powdery snow -- no chirping or buzzing, no radios, no traffic noises.

We shot some photos in the deep, still cold . . . but when we glanced at them casually, we were shocked to see the camera lens had captured an image of an ethereal presence wafting its way around the park.

Was it the ghost of Harry Chapin, musician and beloved son of the Heights? Author of “Taxi” and “Cat’s in the Cradle,” Chapin's life was tragically cut short in 1981, when he was killed in a car accident on the Long Island Expressway.

Sadly, it was not.

The vapors were our own breath, released every time one of us looked through the camera's viewfinder. When we held our breath and took a photo, the park was peaceful, quiet and ghost-free.

As we left Chapin playground (a bit bemused), we clumsily latched the icy gate behind us. Walking up the quiet street towards home, we heard some faint music. We looked at each other for a second. "Did you hear that?"

It sounded like:

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man on the moon.
"When you coming home, son?" "I don't know when,
But we'll get together then, dad.
you know we'll have a good time then.


Photos by MK Metz

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