each summer until I was twelve, I w...

each summer until I was twelve, I went with my family to Olivet, a Presbyterian camp onward Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. All the folks there I called "Auntie," "Uncle" or "Cousin." I contemplation all of them were my father's relatives, since I knew he was born and raised a gentile.

Left behind in Chicago were heat, polio, Anshe Emet Synagogue where I went to Sunday academy and weekly El rides to visit my mother's mother, Gramma. She spoke no English, single what I called "Jewish." Each week she handed me gelt which I state in my white porcelain piggy