Deep in the 50’s McCarthy red scare era, our neighbor and my dad’s friend happened to be a loud, in your face, communist.  Two floors above lived a spooky guy who only communicated with tight lipped nods.  Everyone said he was an undercover FBI agent.  My parents were school teachers, terrified of losing their jobs because of my dad’s association with his friend.   My mom taught at the same elementary...

Carla’s parents would be home any second.  We had stripped her bedroom of valuables, which included black light posters.  Our $50, ‘61 Chevy station wagon had been resurrected from the near dead with love and the addition of curtains.  With gentle coaxing and a cable massage I got six of her eight cylinders firing. “Let’s get out of here, before they get back!”Me and dog looking for...

According to the ad on the back cover of my comic book I could get a working model train for selling only 12 boxes of Christmas cards.  It didn’t occur to me that selling them in a Jewish highrise could be a problem.  They opened their door to a four foot kid, sweating beside a four foot carton of cards I pushed in and out of the elevator.  They felt sorry for me, probably because they thought I was an idiot. ...