The dad with the gun.
When I was ten, we moved from Queens, NY, to Scarsdale, NY, as those of you who read my post, My Parents Almost Bought the Gatsby House, may remember. Our street in Queens was familial. Everyone knew each other. Parent socialized, kids played on the street, and ran in and out of each other’s houses. Scarsdale was the polar opposite. The streets were quiet and … Continue reading The dad with the gun.
