ABSTRACT
In 1945, the west side of Riverdale Avenue still had mostly gated, secluded mansions. Our side of one- and two-family homes also was exceedingly quiet. When home alone, I drowned out the ominous silence by listening to my new records, while lounging on my comfortable off-white striped sofa, and glorying in my own apartment, nearly twice the size of the parental one. Charlie’s mother had found this place on Tyndall Avenue, off 261st Street, just two blocks from hers, on Liebig Avenue.
