From Dana Edleman

Nov 22 1963

I was outside of the school building -- maybe going home for lunch? 
-- and Marc Hirschorn came up to me and said (I thought), "Kenny 
died."  What??  I was confused and upset (was there a Kenny in our 
class?) and asked a bunch of questions until I got it untangled.  
Then I went across the street to my house at 67-09 FML and found my 
mother crying in the kitchen, with the radio on.  I remember the 
feeling of confusion and upset to this day.

The day I left Fresh Meadows

I must have been (characteristically) forceful with my parents about 
the necessity of my staying in school until after a PEP RALLY -- some 
kind of assembly for, maybe, class elections.  It seems I had written 
some of the songs and was up on the stage with a bunch of other kids 
singing and dancing.  I remember having a big send-off because 
everyone went to the windows of school facing Fresh Meadow Lane and 
waved us off.  It was a catastrophe to leave at that age on such a 
social high.  I turned out to be way to "city" for the kids at my new 
school.  In fact,   I never really took root in my new community.  I 
always had a parallel life somewhere in the city after that.


My family arrived on Fresh Meadow Lane during the August before 4th 
Grade.  I remember meeting a group of kids on the block, and, as was 
my habit, I wanted to entertain them and make them laugh.  I told a 
pathetic little joke.  I doubt at the time that I even totally 
understood it.  I think Lori LeBlang and Shelley Friedman were 
there.  I don't remember whose, but somebody's wanker of a brother 
TOLD ON ME.  The girl was told she couldn't ever play with me again.  
The joke:  What do you call a female detective.  A:  A Dickless 
Tracy.  There are so many jokes that I WISH I could remember, yet 
trauma has that pathetic riddle burned into my mind.

My Tomboy Years

It was Danny Wolkoff, Jerry Infeld and Steve Greenbaum and I.  
Building clubhouses in warm weather, snow tunnels in winter, arm 
wrestling and racing.  (I used to win.) I remember a huge argument 
with my mother when she caught me leaving the house with a pillow and 
blankets on my way to "camp out" with the guys in our new clubhouse.  
I could NOT understand the problem with my sleeping out with them.

Solve a mystery....

I was ten, my sisters 7 and 3.  My mother took us to Dr. Bloom for 
our measles shots.  She took Marla, the baby, in first -- leaving 
Barbara and me in the waiting room.  I was terrified.  I HATED 
shots.  I ran away.  I ran as fast as I could to the playground 
behind 173 and found a classmate with whom I had never played before, 
playing it real cool (strategic!).  I went home with her....for 
HOURS.  I recall her mother asking a few times if my parents knew 
where I was.  Not a chance.  (I cringe, with hindsight, at the terror 
they felt.  Of course they had called the police.)  Eventually I went 
home; to a beating (try that today!) and the shot! So, WHO WAS THAT