I have very few memories of my early years.
Oddly, I recall standing on the back of a shopping cart in some grocery store when I was
About four and, I think, drinking from a coca cola bottle or breaking it, and falling off an ironing board in school in kindergarten, cutting my tongue badly, and my mother having to come to school as a result.
Some time after that, we moved to Long Beach, I think to escape the New York City school system, where my grandparents lived in a small bungalow at 81 Arizona Avenue in the West End of town. For a while, my parents and my grandparents lived in this small bungalow, with one bathroom and a shower that was very primitive. I believe I had my own room but for a special treat, I was allowed to sleep in my grandparent’s bed, which was the one closest to the street. My grandparents moved in there around 1920, but I believe it was boarded up in the winter and they rented elsewhere.
More of this will be typed at a later date, this is more or less a place holder.