San Francisco, October 31st. 1941. Just when it seemed that the night had been a waste of time, HE walked into the club. The hour was close to midnight as Lucy stubbed out her seventh cigarette of the evening and put her holder away in her clutch. He had...
San Francisco, 1940. There was no question it was her. At first glance, I thought her to be no more than thirty-five, but the more I looked the more uncertain I was. One sure thing was that she was all woman. A woman who was glad to be female in every sen...
My favorite uncle was my father’s younger brother, Henry D’Amato, or Uncle Hank as we called him. When I reached college age in the 1970s, he had a successful fruit wholesaling business in the Bronx Terminal Market. By then he had surpassed his own father...
