We had a sewing machine. I used to crawl into the bottom of the cabinet, close the doors and play inside.

I had a bad temper. One time I kicked a hole in the living room wall. One time walking home from the park with my mother, I tore her dress . . . to shreds.

Another time, after I did something bad, I hid under the bed where my mother could not reach to hit me. She coaxed me out to take a spoonful of medicine. It was a spoon of pepper.

I had a corduroy gray jacket, corduroy knickers, and a leather hat with goggles on it.

I remember the pants mom used to make me . . . and all the kids making fun of them.

One winter I went into a hock shop (pawn) on Washington Avenue, Belleville, New Jersey, and bought a old pair of hockey ice skates for a dollar. They were too big for my feet. I used to go to a small pond where I learned how to stand up on them and skate.

Then I remember getting a brand new pair of hockey ice skates. These fit. The town built an outdoor ice skating ring next to Grammar School Number 7. It had outdoor lighting and played music over loud speakers. I used to go skating there at night listening to all the Christmas songs.

I recall one day I was skating down at the larger pond. The ice was so thin that as we skated the ice would crack behind us. It was a wonder that the ice did not crack open. That would have been the end of me.