Well, ladies and gentlemen... Buzz-A-Rama has officially been cleaned out. There is nothing left but four walls and 56 years of memories. Everything is gone... maybe an occasional motor brush or single pinion gear on the floor in a corner somewhere. There is no sign of it ever being a raceway...The gate has been pulled down for the last time. That is, until the new owners take over and start the rebuild.
Thousands of people of all ages walked through those hallowed doors... men turned into boys... boys turned into men as they worked on and raced their little toy cars around one of Buzzy and Dolores' five tracks. It's where many kids got their hands dirty for the first time. Some turned out to be real car mechanics. Some opened companies. Some became stockbrokers.
Whatever they became... we all shared in one very important fact: we all had a great time at Buzz-A-Rama. Buzzy and Dolores might be gone... but their memories and the memories of racing there will forever be in our hearts and in our minds; those can never be taken away.
Ask anyone who grew up in Brooklyn, and the surrounding areas, if they heard of BAR... and they all say yes. It was the most iconic raceway in all the country and even in some parts of the world... everyone knew of or wanted to race there. Buzzy and Dolores were legends... the basement of BAR was a thing of folklore. We all wanted to get down there, we all wanted to see what all the talk was about, we all tried our hardest to get Buzzy to change his mind, open the door and let us into his wonderful world of slot cars. I helped him out for the last eight years. He trusted me to open any drawer, any closet, and any box... but not the basement door. That was off limits. I was hoping to see the memorabilia and hear all his stories about how one man could have accumulated so much stuff.
But it never happened... the stories all died when he died. The book never got written... and a good book it would have been. I used to love talking to him on those Saturday and Sunday afternoons when he would open at 2 PM. I always asked him about something that I found in the bottom of a drawer that hadn't been opened in over 30 years. He never skipped a beat, he would tell me the story like it happened yesterday. Dolores would always chime in and say, "Hey, Buzz, remember when..." and she would bring up an old story or race or person that made a significant impact on BAR.
I miss then both very much. They complemented each other like fine wine... he was rough and tumble and she was the forever voice of reason. They were a perfect couple. They ate, slept, and breathed Buzz-A-Rama. He told me he would die before he closed up... and he was right.
I miss you, Frank 'Buzz' Perri and Dolores Perri. May you rest in peace forever.
PS: Buzz, I finally got down into the basement but it just wasn't the same without you. ;(