At 93, I’m filled with more memories than I can remember. Still, things pop into my mind that can draw me back into a moment in time: The high school dance. Sneaking into the officers’ mess hall during my service. Dancing with my stepsister until we collapsed in giggles. A related topic will surface, and…
My granddaughter Jessica was the one who inspired me to write my stories. “What was life like when you were a boy, Grandpa Jerry?” she started asking me last year. “What were some favorite games you played with your friends? What did you spend your allowance on? What were your parents and grandparents like?” As…
In grade school, I once got in trouble for dipping my classmate’s braids into the inkwell. Why you ask? How could I resist? First, let me tell you more about grade school. My favorite subjects were gym and math. Gym I liked because we learned sports. My gym teacher was patient as he taught…
I got my first car right after I returned from the army in 1948. New cars were limited right after WWII. There had been no new car production during the war, as factories were repurposed to support the effort. Cars were just getting back to production when I got back from Japan. And new cars…
The secret skill that always surprised my classmates was…my dancing. In fact, if I may say so myself, I was a jitterbug expert in high school. And, boy, did that make the big football guys mad! “Look at little Witkovsky” they would snarl. What can I say? I loved jitterbug music and was good at…
I’ve been staying with my adult daughter and her husband for the last three months, while we’ve all be sheltering at home under the Coronavirus. The other day I asked her: “Was I a good father to you?” “Why are you asking me this again?” she asked. “Why do you still need reassurance about this?”…
The place next to me is empty. The passenger seat in the car. The chair at the kitchen table. The place next to me in bed. Margaret, my wife for 52 years, was always there, through the rough times and good times. We built a family: a son and daughter, their spouses and children–our…
Grandma would clamp the grinder onto the edge of her kitchen table. She would boil the fish. My job was to take the fish after it cooled and grind it and pick out the bones. I was the bone-picker and grinder. While I was doing that grandma would be making a kugel and brisket, boiled…
Sometimes a writing prompt will take you in a different direction than you expected. My mother died when I was only three. And I wasn’t allowed in my parent’s (my dad and stepmom) bedroom growing up. This prompt was the first in a series of writing prompts for a “Grandparents, Write Your Story” program…
My granddaughter Jessica was the one who inspired me to write my stories. “What was life like when you were a boy, Grandpa Jerry?” she started asking me last year. “What were some favorite games you played with your friends? What did you spend your allowance on? What were your parents and grandparents like?” As…
