My time in PS 26 (now Middle School 390) spanned the years 1948-1951. I was nine years old going in and twelve coming out. I had my first crush on a girl there; her name was Adrian Abromowitz, a Jewish girl. I didn't date a Christian girl until I was sixteen. Our neighborhood in the West Bronx was half Jewish and half Irish Catholic; the Catholics all went to a parochial school across the street from PS26 named Holy Spirit. On Jewish holidays our school of about 500 kids had an attendance of ten. There were no African-Americans or Hispanics. The nearest public library was two blocks from our school and most days I went there after class to borrow some books; I read a lot of books. I didn't fit in anywhere. I got beat up by Irish kids twice and by Jewish kids once. Of all the kids in the Lutheran church that I attended, none of them lived anywhere close to me. My family's social life was centered on the German-American community in the Bronx. We went to dances and picnics and built a network of friendship that lasted until we moved to Maryland. In 1951 I joined the Boy Scouts of America; our troop met at the Hebrew Institute of University Heights, (years later sold to the city for a drug rehab center) two blocks away from my home. I was the only Christian scout in the troop. I was never discriminated against in the six years that I was a member there. In fact, I was promoted to the position of Junior Assistant Scout Master; the highest position a scout can attain being sub-adult. My family did not have a TV then; we would sit in the living room listening to the radio. One of my favorite programs was The Shadow whose famous byline was 'Who knows what evil lurks in the heart of man; the Shadow knows.' Two songs of that era remain on my all time favorites list: and

My family lived in Manhatten when I was a baby but relocated during the war to the Bronx. After the war we moved again but only a few blocks away. The school that I attended kindergarten and first grade (PS 82 on Macombs Road) had only those grades; it was really a junior high school. For the second grade I went to PS 104 on Shakespeare Avenue; the only time I was ever bused to school. My K-1 teacher was Mrs. Glogal, a very nice lady; 2nd grade was Mrs. Lang whom I met on a trolley car once and was very intimidated by her. She was a good, caring teacher. We had great respect for our teachers back then; they were second only to parents on the influence they had in our lives. She asked where I was going and I truthfully answered that I was going to the library. She patted my hand and said "Good, good." Then we moved and I had to go to PS 26 on Burnside Avenue; my teacher for the 3rd grade was Mrs. Horowitz, the worst teacher that I ever had. She used to shriek at us and behind her back we called her Mrs. Horrible Witch. Around this time a song was written titled "Ghost Riders In the Sky" and was first sung by Vaughn Monroe in 1949. I never got tired of listening to it; it was the first song whose lyrics I committed to memory.

I had a relatively happy childhood. My family did things together, although not often because of the times (WWII) and a few years after that, but trips to Coney Island or Bear Mountain were really special. We visited often with my mother's fellow immigrant Hannah Smith at Greenwood Lake. My first female interest was her daughter June. My sister and I shared a radio and fought often about what music to listen to. Two of my most memorable tunes were these:
Vera Lynn singing "We'll Meet Again"



and Edith Piaf, who became a resistance fighter during the German occupation of France and was hunted by the Gestapo, singing La Vie En Rose.



It would be ten years before I understood what the words meant. The most significant event of those times was V-J Day in August 1945 when every living soul was in the streets celebrating the end of the war. I was six years old. I don't remember what day of the week it was but I will wager that not many people were in shape to go to work the next day. A few weeks after that all of us children went to our school to take home our share of veggies that we had planted there in our Victory Garden. Every school in NYC did this; it was our contribution to the war effort.
In 1946, my future Uncle John was discharged from the Army and married my dad's sister Kitty. She was living with us but after the marriage she moved to his home in Baraboo, WI. I was sad; she was my all time favorite aunt. Over the years we made a few trips to visit them; not enough. Kids get over stuff; every day there was something new; still is if you are still a kid.