To hear the old-timers tell it (and tell it and tell it and tell it), the
 heart of Brooklyn was ripped out when Ebbet's Field was torn down in
 1960.

Well, that same heart is on the critical list again.

Not two blocks from that still-empty psychic hole, an institution that
 has anchered the neighborhood since the Dodgers abandoned it is facing
 its own wrecking ball.

"It's the end of an era," said 64-year-old Clarence Beckford, who has
 spent, he claimed, a portion of every day for the last 38 years at
 Bedford Bowl, the 36-lane alley that will be torn down later this year.
 "This place is a home to a lot of people in this community."

Beckford and hundreds of other Bedford Bowl regulars will gather one last
 time on June 6 to mark the passing of the 40-year-old lanes, a well-worn
 place that offers a rare glimpse at what bowling alleys were like before
 "disco bowling," psychedelic lights and soulless center consoles that
 automatically keep score for you.

With prices set at $2.25 a game -- and $1 a game on Monday nights --
 Bedford Bowl was bowling like it oughta be. (Full disclosure? I once
 bowled a 174 there, my highest score ever, so you can imagine what I'm
 feeling right now.)

There is a difference, of course, between the destruction of Ebbet's
 Field and the loss of Bedford Bowl. The home of the Dodgers, historians
 tell us, was abandoned in the name of evil, the culmination of one man's
 greed, egotism and California dreaming. 

This time, the motives for the destruction of a valuable community
 resource are just, even if the result is the same.

Medgar Evers College, which sits across the street from Bedford Bowl,
 needs more classrooms to accommodate an expected doubling of the student
 body by the year 2004.

To realize its vision for a new academic center and a campus green
 (things that academics tend to prize more than bowling alleys), the
 college got the state to condemn some neighboring properties, including
 Bedford Bowl, which is actually the older institution.

"This thing was a done deal from the start," Bedford Bowl co-owner Linda
 Chin said the other day, as bowler after bowler came over to commiserate
 about the impending demise. "How can you fight the state?"

Chin's lawyer, Robert Gottlieb, didn't bother trying. "Who is going to
 argue," he asked, "that a bowling alley is better for the community than
 a college?"

No one, perhaps, but that didn't silence the grumbling of bowlers. We're
 talking about an community anchor being shoved aside in favor of another
 institution that opened seven years later. Isn't that a little like the
 tearing down Penn Station to make room for Madison Square Garden?

And imagine the outcry if Columbia University tried to do the same thing
 to a Morningside Heights community resource. It's amazing how quickly
 things can be accomplished in New York when race is off the table.

"The project will not significantly impact the character of the
 surrounding community," the Dormitory Authority of the State of New York
 concluded in its environmental impact statement, which studied air
 quality, health hazards, noise, water quality, wildlife and traffic, but
 never examined what it means for a community to lose one of its few
 recreational facilities.

"I was angry for a while," Chin said, "but I guess it's God's will."

Beckford also spoke of the Lord when asked whether he would join the
 coming Diaspora of Bedford bowlers to the much-smaller Diplomat Lanes
 about a mile away.

"I always listen to God," said Beckford. "If He says, `Go to the
 Diplomat,' I'll go to the Diplomat. But that doesn't mean I'm happy
 about it."

--30--

email: gershny@yahoo.com