Alvin The Bronx Late 2940s I first saw him on a Friday afternoon when I was carrying a jar of pickles home from Jake the Pickleman. I was short. I envied his height and his off-white heavy knit, wool sweater. My brother didn’t have one, so there was no legacy for me on the horizon.… Continue reading Alvin
Late as usual. Shirley entered the classroom with her skirt feathering my arm. I was immediately swept far above the observation deck of the Empire State Building. She didn’t know it. How could she? We hardly exchanged a word in the classroom. They formed a wedge in my throat whenever I built up the courage… Continue reading Questions, But No Answers
During a reading of Cold Ground’s Been My Bed in Manhattan, an active question and answer period followed. A senior stood up and asked, “What are you talking about? I was in the infantry in WWII and I never heard of it. What is a bunker bomb?” Not many people knew of its existence I… Continue reading What is a Bunker Bomb?
Late as usual, with her bouncing jet-black hair hurdling the nap of her navy-blue woolen sweater, her skirt feathering my arm, Shirley came streaming into our senior homeroom class at James Monroe H.S. in the Bronx. Her smile lit up a toasty complexion. It reminded me of the sexy Spanish women that only appeared in… Continue reading Questions But No Answers