Stories by the fireside… We didn’t have a fireplace in our New York City apartment, although my dad continued his fireside storytelling tradition throughout the winter months—minus the crackling fire of course. I remember many
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Ghosts of White Winters Past
Winter, 1969. New York City A blizzard’s eerie silence overshadowed the distant honking and revving engines from the usual Saturday night car races. I remember my dad‘s contagious laugh echoing through our apartment hallway after
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