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The Odors of the Bronx, New York

Occasionally, we’d walk to City Island east of Throgs Neck surrounded by the Long Island Sound where restaurants served up fried oysters, clams, and eels. I thought the world consisted

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Doing a Birdie at Orchard Beach

Everywhere I heard different languages, the staccato Spanish of Puerto Ricans with the constant call to “Mira, mira”(look look). Then there was the richly embroidered Yiddish and Russian and Italian

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My Immigrant Parents #3

As a young man in his twenties, my father wore a Stetson pulled down at an angle over his eyes. He was a thoughtful man who hid his complexity behind

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How I Turned Into a Ladybug

At the end of June I witnessed a commotion outside my window—droves of orange specks flying in the air. Not one, but hundreds. What were they? For months before, there’d

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