June 4th will always be a landmark day in my life. My Dad had been away for almost a year which was a very long time in a 3 year old life. I was told that he was in Iceland "working for the government" and a small fur seal doll had been tucked into a package that had arrived only a few weeks before dad himself appeared back on the scene. When he came through the door of our apartment in the Bronx that morning his suit was rumpled, his beard bristly and he smelled of pipe smoke and I'll never forget it. He scooped me up and carried me and his big brown Hartman bag into the bedroom. While he unpacked I played with a little tin airplane painted with the Trans Continental and Western Air colors he had picked up at an airport some place. He went to sleep and didn't wake up until supper time the next day. On the night of June 6th there was a blackout drill in our neighborhood and we sat in the kitchen with the gas jets lit on the stove to give a little light. My brother, 9 years my senior had just returned from his Boy Scout meeting with a quart of Tuti-Fruti ice-cream. My dad dished out generous portions for each of us, turned on Gabriel Heeter ...... "Ah, there's good news tonight" Heeter said. My brother jumped up and down at the news ....... my father puffed his pipe. "It's a start ..... it's a start" he said swapping the pipe for the ice-cream spoon and finishing off the last of the Tuti-Fruti.

I must admit that I am not sure that I "remember" all of this or if my memory has been enhanced by years of remembering the Tuti-Fruti story with my brother ..... and then my children.

Al