I was born on March 30, 1927. It was at Mount Zion Hospital, which was a Jewish hospital located at one corner of a very large block of land, constructed in 1912, a five-story brick building, with stairs to the front door. The stairs are still there, and that building is used for offices. Later, the hospital kept expanding until it filled the entire block.

In 1927, the first motion picture to use synchronized sound instead of printed titles was released: The Jazz Singer starring Al Jolson, in which he acted and sang. Al Jolson to start his act, said “you ain’t seen nothin yet”.

President F.D. Roosevelt first proposed and got the Social Security Act passed in 1935 when I was age 8,  as part of the New Deal to counteract the Depression that started with the stock market crash of 1929 when I was age 2. Medicare was not adopted until 1965, when I was age 38.

I have a vivid memory of being a passenger in my father’s car, as he drove around San Francisco to every gas station he could find, and all were closed because of the General Strike in 1932, when I was 5 years old. He was usually a cheerful, calm person, but he was getting more frantic and angry when he was about to run out of gas. Finally, he drove to South San Francisco and filled up with gas. The strike had been called by Harry Bridges, head of the Union for the longshoremen who worked on the waterfront. San Francisco was a strong union city, so other unions joined the strike in support.

I have limited memories of being in Kindergarten at Sunnyside Elementary School. My teacher was  Ms. L’ordure. I remember taking naps on mats on the floor, and snacks of graham crackers and milk. That was a good start, because I liked eating and sleeping for the rest of my life.

When I was in the early grades at Sunnyside, Gloria Griffith was our back neighbor. Her house was on Valdez, on the other side of our back fence, and she would walk me to and from school, which was many blocks east of our house and south of Monterey Boulevard. When I was older, I walked to and from school, often with my friends Kenneth Hanson or Walter Minkel.   

As we walked in one direction, some older boys from Aptos were going in the opposite direction, yelled at us, made a gesture to chase us, and I was afraid of them. My father asked my uncle Fred Goldstein, who had been a boxer, to come to our house, and he gave me a boxing lesson. He showed me how to guard my face with my left fist and hit with my right fist. I felt more confident after that.    

I remember the opening day of the Golden Gate Bridge, May 27, 1937, when I was 10 years old, when I walked across the bridge with my maternal grandfather, Abraham Kirschenbaum. He didn’t drive a car, so he had done a great amount of walking around San Francisco. My father dropped us off and later picked us up.  There was no auto traffic that day, just many pedestrians. It took 4 years to construct the bridge. I read the opening between Marin and San Francisco had been there for 10,000 years, and was a mile wide.

When I was a child, my father drove to Yosemite, my mother and father, my maternal grandparents, and my sister.  Partway down going into the valley, a car came up the road by mistake. My father passed the other car on the edge of a cliff with open space to the outside of the road downward for hundreds of feet.  As we passed, we felt the car tilt to the right toward the edge of the cliff. It could have been the end of all of us.  When we got to the floor of the valley, I remember climbing the rocks with my grandfather at the base of Yosemite Falls, among the fast-moving water, which was fun.                 

When I was a child, things were a lot different. Downstairs at our home there was a wash room, with a wash tub and “clothes wringer”, which was two rollers rotated by a handle, a man came around in a truck and brought a large cube of ice into the house with forceps to put in the “ice box”, while I and the other children took small pieces of ice from the back of the truck to suck. Another horse-drawn truck came around the neighborhood, whose driver called out, “rags, bottles, sacks”, looking to buy scrap. Milk was delivered daily and left on the front porch. Doctors made house calls, and one time, the doctor came to see me. He complained that my parents should move back into town.

My mother, Sarah, said that when I was a young child, I would walk around the house singing He’s Funny That Way, when I was too young to later remember. There is a good recording of He’s Funny That Way by Billie Holiday. I don’t know where my Eastern European accent came from.  My father had a photograph of me on his desk, for many years, in short pants, holding a ball in my hand. The singing was more important than the ball, as a prediction of my future. 

My father, Mayer, often took my sister Carolyn and me to Playland at the Beach in San Francisco. We went on the Red Bug, where people drove little cars and bumped into other cars, and the Merry-Go-Round. We ate Its-It ice cream sandwiches, etc. Later, when I was older, I went to the Fun House with friends, i.e, slides, distorting mirrors, and a floor that went up and down. At the entrance, there was a blast of air from the floor to blow the girls’ skirts, and outside, there was the Laughing Sal, the animated laughing woman mannequin above the door. There was a “Big Dipper” roller coaster ride that I only rode once. Playland, which closed in 1972, was torn down and replaced with condominiums.  

Mayer also took us to the Boardwalk at Santa Cruz and to the Boardwalk at Neptune’s Island in Alameda. We also went swimming at the beach, but I had a problem with sunburn. One time, my sister Carolyn and I had a serious sunburn at the beach at Santa Cruz, and stayed in our room suffering for days. After that, I was more careful.

When I was young, Mayer and Sarah would go to San Mateo Park on Sunday. That is where I have a picture of me hugging Norman Heller, who lived in Burlingame, when we were about 5 years old. They drove there to get some sunshine. El Camino was a country road, one lane in each direction, lined by tall Eucalyptus trees. I remember there was an El Camino entrance to the Ben Franklin Hotel, from where their land went to the mid-block present location of the hotel. The future Highway 101 was a two-lane road. From there, you could see the SF Airport, which had only a single one-story building with a wind sock on top.

On Sunday, when Carolyn and I were children, Mayer also drove us to Palo Alto Park, which had a large swimming pool. Some of Mayer and Sarah’s friends would be there. I remember Mark and Hannah  Lancer and their son, Jerry, were there. Jerry and I had met several times to do things in San Francisco.

We went to other places on Sundays.  

One big event was the annual B’nai B’rith Picnic. It was usually a long auto ride, on narrow roads. I remember one drive back on the windy narrow Coast Highway in very dense fog.  Carolynn was at these picnics with her parents and sisters, so we probably saw each other although we never met. The most I remember about the picnic was  walking around with my parents as they said hello etc to all the people they knew.

In the summertime we would go for a vacation stay in Marin County, probably San Rafael. Sarah, Carolyn, and I would stay there. Mayer would stay home in San Francisco, and come to Marin County on Sunday.

I have a vivid memory of an event while in Marin County: Sarah, Carolyn, and I, stood a long time on the sidewalk of a long street, probably St. Francis in San Rafael, until a motorcade of President F.D. Roosevelt arrived. He was waving his hat while in an open car, slowly drove by, people clapped and waved, and then he was gone. I didn’t know much about him at that time, but obviously, he was very important for all those people to have waited to see him.

When my sister Carolyn and I were teenagers, the family had some vacations at Lake Tahoe, staying at motels on the West side near Kings Beach. One time when visiting Tahoe Tavern, everybody at the swimming pool above was watching Hedy Lamarr swimming in the Lake from the beach there. I remember being at Cal-Neva Lodge, impressed by the borderline painted in the center of the dance floor.

When I was a child, I was a stamp collector. Stamp collectors were inspired by the collecting of  FDR. Mayer had friends who were stamp collectors: Lou Shain, Norman Barnett, and Mayer got me started in this hobby.  I first collected international used stamps, and I remember something that is important historically that I did not appreciate at the time. The stamps from Germany had imprints on them which increased the value by the hundreds and the thousands, due to out-of-control inflation, before electing Adolph Hitler. I collected mint plate blocks. My father would buy new issues at The Bell Bazaar stationery store that had a small post office, on Mission St. near 16th St.. He would take me to buy older issues at  Louie’s (Asian) small stamp store in the Mission district near Army St. This hobby was instruction in geography and world history, and got me started as a collector, which led to collecting many things all my life, and difficulty throwing away anything. Many of the specific stamps of the 1930s and 1940s that  I collected are described by Philip Roth in “The Plot Against America,” written in  2004.

One adventure was Boy Scout Camp. I went for a week, got a sore throat there, and spent the rest of the week in bed in a special building for medical care. I went a second time and enjoyed it. There were many joint Troop events.  One was a Jubilee, at the parade ground at the S. F. Presidio, where all the Bay Area Troops had a presence and displays.

Sarah, Mayer, and Abe told me when it was time to start studying for my Bar Mitzvah. I knew that was what Jewish boys did, and I was glad to prepare by being taught by my grandfather Abe in our home. I studied with him for years, using a teaching method of repetition. I learned to read Hebrew and chant many prayers.

At my Bar Mitzvah, in addition to the traditional Torah Blessings, I read a Torah portion, chanted the Haftorah, chanted the Musaf Service, and gave a short speech. Carolyn much later found a copy of my speech in Sarah’s memoirs.

My speech had a paragraph “today, when darkness covers the earth, and people everywhere are taught to hate and are instructed to kill, it is more than ever our task to teach that we are all children of one Father. He has made us in his image. We therefore must not harm one another or hate one another, but rather love and have compassion, and exercise kindness”.

It  concluded “I would be wanting in gratitude if I did not say a word of appreciation and thanks to my grandfather, who had been my teacher and guide and through whom I have learned to love all things Jewish.  I also want to thank my beloved father and mother for all they have done and are doing for me. I know I can best repay them for the care and devotion that they have surrounded me with these thirteen years by being an upright man and by giving the best that is in me to whatever task I shall undertake”.

One Bar Mitzvah gift was the book A Bird’s-eye View of Jewish History, with an inscription “March 30, 1940, Presented to Norman Licht on the occasion of his bar-mitzvah for excellence and distinction on that day and before with warmest good wishes – Rabbi Saul White”.

A gift of the book Encyclopedia of Jewish Knowledge was inscribed “A wise son maketh a glad father”, Proverb of Solomon. “To Norman Licht on his Bar Mitzvah, March 30, 1940, with the congratulations and good wishes of San Francisco Lodge 321 B’nai B’rith of which his father is one of her finest and most devoted members. Signed by the President.Joseph Karesh (Judge), Vice Pres. Jesses Levy, Treasurer Maurie Raphel, Sect. Samuel Fendel, and 4 other officers.

Another book from Rabbi White, later in March 1940, The Boy From Cordova,  was inscribed “The Leon Hecht Award for excellence and distinction in studies at Cong. Beth Shalom awarded to Norman Licht”, where the studies were mainly Jewish history.

Mr. Klopstock, a friend of my father, asked what I wanted for a gift, and he gave me some Boy Scout equipment that I wanted.  I was in Boy Scout Troop 135, which met at Sunnyside School. One time in the Boy Scouts, they had Walter Minkel and me put on boxing gloves and have a match, while everyone watched. Early on, Walter connected a punch to my chin, I saw stars, and after that, I did what Uncle Fred had taught me, and it helped. They had another game in which some scouts formed a group on the ground, and one by one, others jumped on top to form a pyramid. I didn’t see much point in it. Our troop did not have as many merit badge counselors as did some other troops, so it was harder. I got five merit badges for “Star”, but did not get to Eagle Scout. There was only one Jewish Boy Scout in my troop, Philip Shapiro. Many years later, Hugh Schrager told me Phil was a machinist who had worked with him at Varian. Doc Dundas was our Scoutmaster.

She worked as a secretary to the general manager of the Emporium Department Store on Market Street. She got me to take typing in Junior High School. At that time, computers were not even imagined, but later on, my ability to type was a great advantage when using a computer.

Sarah swam and played tennis when she was in High School and she encouraged me to learn both. Learning to swim was difficult for me,  but I did learn when I was a child. I took lessons at the Jewish Community Center in San Francisco, and at the pool of The Fairmont Hotel that later became the Tonga Room nightclub. I swam at Fleishacker’s pool near the Beach. I also went to Sutro Baths near the Cliff House, which had a very long slide into the main pool. I remember bathing in a hot water pool, and my blue bathing suit bleached to white.  When I was in High School I did play singles tennis with some friends,  rode a bicycle, ice skated, bowled, and played one basket, two man basketball. 

Our next-door neighbors on Colon Ave. were William and Edith Strickler.  Bill was an executive of American Can Company, and Edith had been a nurse. They had no children, so they took an interest in my sister and me. We called her Tikie. Edith made a collection of ceramic white and gold swans, which I have now.  When I was at Sunnyside school, I once fell playing in an empty lot and had a deep cut on my knee. Once, playing baseball in the middle of the street on Colon Ave. I was catching and a batter threw the bat, which made a deep cut on my left eyebrow, which later needed stitches.  Both times, my mother called Tikie, who came to our house to stop the bleeding and help me. 

I don’t remember the classes or the teachers at Sunnyside, but I do remember playing in the large playground after school.  I clearly remember classes at Aptos Junior High. They had elective trade classes, I took wood-working with hand tools and no power tools, sheet-metal, and printing, where we set type for a printing press.  I most enjoyed the band where I learned to play the clarinet.

At Washington High, I took college preparatory classes, ie, physics, chemistry, and many math classes from Mr Batholomew. He impressed the class by writing a long list of numbers on the blackboard and mentally adding them and writing the answer at the bottom of the list. I had a good course in Civics by Ms. Culligan, who for a year taught us the Constitution, Bill of Rights, and Declaration of Independence, etc. I didn’t have time for politics until after I retired, but this was a wonderful preparation for the news of the day. I think in general my teachers at George Washington High were as good or better than some of my professors at Cal, other than at Optometry School, who were experts in their field but not good teachers.

When I was at Aptos Junior High School, for some unknown reason, I went out on the first day of Soccer, which I had never seen played. They taught us a step:  each person had to hit the ball to the right with the side of the left foot, and then kick it straight ahead with the right foot. I did it all right, but I never went back after the first day.

There was something that I did not like about having everybody watch me in sports. I think I also did not like the idea of being responsible for my team winning or losing. Also, I was not competitive in sports, not very motivated to win, and did not enjoy the idea of the other team losing.

This is odd because I never felt that way about music in bands and orchestras, which is also a team event. The difference is that you don’t have to win or lose in music. Sarah introduced me to music lessons early. I took classical piano for years. Later, I changed to playing sheet music, using a method of chords for the base clef by the left hand, and melody in treble clef added to the notes of the melody. I was good at reading music, but in time, this method caused me to forget how to read the bass clef. Also, because the clarinet and saxophone use only the treble clef.

I  learned to play the clarinet when I started Aptos Junior High School. I played in the band there for two years. We played mostly classical music, and played marches also. We had flowing capes of the school colors, orange and black. One memorable occasion was when we marched and played in a long parade down the streets of Treasure Island at the World Exposition of 1939.

At Aptos, Louise Lombardi was my home-room teacher. I was in her Social Science class, which was on current events. She had a major project of collecting headlines from different newspapers, to show how headlines could change the meaning of the article. She moderated a debate about whether the United States should or should not get involved in the War in Europe. We had a project to draw colored ink cartoons, on this issue, which I did with relish, probably because I liked the artwork, without realizing what not entering the war would have meant for the Jews of Germany, Eastern Europe, and the world. I still have those cartoons.

In 1996, we had a reunion of Miss Lombardi’s class at Aptos Jr. High, at the Marriott Hotel in Burlingame, which was 55 years after our class. She told Carolynn that I was a good student and quiet. She remembered the row and seat where I had sat in her class. People started reminiscing, and it is odd what people remember about you so many years later. Kenneth Treganowen said everyone had the school clarinet (silver metal) but Norman Licht had his own clarinet (black wood).

I grew up during the Depression, so I was not showered with gifts. When I needed an important gift, I got it, i.e. a clarinet, a saxophone, a typewriter, a used bicycle, etc.

Walter Minkel and Kenneth Hanson were my very good friends, both at Sunnyside Grammar School and at Aptos Junior High.

Walter Minkel was a tall, thin boy. My father knew his father, who owned a toy store in the Outer Mission District. They knew we didn’t celebrate Christmas, so they invited me to their house to see their large decorated Christmas tree and play with the electric train, which ran around the base of the tree. They would sometimes take me with them to their country home in the hills of Fairfax and go to a creek in the flat lands of Fairfax to play on the rocks, where the water was flowing pretty quickly.

Kenneth Hanson was a lively boy who lived southward on Colon Ave. across Monterey Blvd.. He lived next to the Pistole brothers, and the four of us and other kids in the neighborhood played baseball in the middle of the hilly street. In Junior High, when I played the clarinet, Kenneth played the trombone. We would go to the movies on Saturday at the El Rey theater on Ocean Avenue, walking a long distance to get there. It was a long walk to Aptos Junior High School, which I did every day.

My cousin Al Lanfeld and I were good friends, and saw each other often until he and his family moved to Los Angeles. We used to alternate going to a Saturday matinee at the El Ray on Ocean Ave., and the Coliseum on Clement St.. When we went to the El Ray, we would sometimes walk with Kenneth Hanson, sometimes with his older sister and her boyfriend. They called Al “motor mouth” because he talked more than I did.

A matinee was a double feature, serial and other short films, cartoons, and they gave away prizes (i.e., dishes). Admission was ten cents. Carolynn remembers one time when she was at a matinee, the manager in a tuxedo stood at the door as the audience left to announce that next week admission would increase from ten cents to eleven cents.

In the summer, my sister Carolyn and I would go to visit the Lanfelds in Los Angeles and stay at their home. We would take the train, which was called the “Daylight”. Al and I would play basketball in their backyard, play miniature golf, and go sightseeing. We would travel around L.A. by bus. We often would walk a few blocks to the May Company and, in a closed booth, listen to the latest Swing records. We knew all the bands and their music; we stayed there listening for long periods, whether or not we bought a record.  

When I was at Aptos, I only knew two Jewish students. When it was time to go to High School, Lincoln was a new school closest to my home, but my parents wanted me to go to Washington High School to meet some Jewish students there. That was a bus ride all across town to Geary Blvd., and a streetcar from there to school.

Levi Jeans had just become popular among students at UC Berkeley, and I wore Levis and a leather jacket to high school every day, except ROTC day.

When I started at Washington High School, I continued to play the clarinet in an ROTC marching band. We played a great many marches, which were very melodic and fun to play. We also practiced marching and playing regularly, in our khaki color Army uniforms. The music teacher was Mr. Knox. He was a good teacher, strict and a disciplinarian.

While at Washington High, I learned to play the Alto Saxophone, which was similar to the clarinet but had a different fingering. I played in a large Dance Band, also taught and directed by Mr. Knox. We played a variety of music. One number that I remember we played is What A Difference A Day Makes. We must have practiced that one a lot for me to remember it.

I also played in a small band at Washington High basketball and football games. Washington had fine basketball teams, as did other schools in the district: Lowell, Lincoln, Polytechnic, Balboa, and Mission. I liked watching basketball, and I liked playing the school songs, etc, at the games. The games were very exciting, usually played at Kezar Auditorium, and often there were a few fist fights by the spectators after the game. The Washington football team was terrible. I think the coach Oscar Madfes lost so many games in a row that it set a new record.

Lloyd Leith, the basketball coach, was my home room teacher, first period in the morning. When his team lost a game, he would angrily rant and rave to the class about the mistakes players made during the game. Years later, when Carolynn and I visited the National Basketball Hall of Fame, Lloyd Leith was listed for his accomplishments as a coach and a game referee.

At the same time, we started a small group to play swing music. The leader was Len Tausig on trumpet. The other players were Marv Bronstein on drums, Bill Keegan on bass, I played Alto Saxophone along with Phil Gold, Bill Klinger on tenor saxophone, and my sister Carolyn played piano. We practiced in the social hall of my home. We were pretty loud, really engrossed in our practice. One time, our next-door neighbors, Edith and Bill Strickler, complained that we played too late at night, which, after that, made us a little more considerate.

We had a few dance engagements. One time, we went to Saint Mary’s University to play for a dance. One time, we played for a dance at a small building in Petaluma. We played at Forrest Lodge, which was a resort north of Calistoga on the road to Clear Lake. Our biggest event was several days at Fetter’s Hot Springs between Sonoma and Boyes Springs. Carolyn did not go to Fetters with us. I have a letter that was saved by Sarah for me when I was at Fetters.

A friend, Clyde Fox, was our business manager when we went to Fetters. Years later, after I retired, usually at a party by Stan and Carolyn, he always said, “We should revive the Band”.  One time we were having dinner with our friends, Don and Gloria Zuck, near Symphony Hall in SF, and Clyde came to the table and said to our friends, “you should be more careful about who you associate with”.

 We also played for some dances at dances for servicemen at the Hospitality House in Civic Center, when my father was Chairman of the War Services Committee of B’nai B’rith Lodge 21.  

I considered a professional career in music, but decided against it. When I was in High School, it was the era of the big Bands of swing music. The prominent clarinetists were Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw, and Woody Herman, and they were so wonderful that it was enough to discourage me from the profession. I played for the fun of it.

I was very good at reading music. I was skilled at fingering and technique, having endlessly practiced scales and exercises.  I had two problems. It was during World War II, and it was very hard to get good bamboo reeds that were imported from the Far East, so I had difficulty with my tone. I also wanted to learn how to improvise. I tried several teachers, none of whom could teach me to improvise, which I think was because so many of the good teachers were in the Armed Services.

My sports activities were limited. When I was in High School, I played singles tennis with friends, including Jack Kohn. I also played two-man one-basket basketball with friends, including Ellis Robison, Cliff Krueger, and my cousin Alvin Lanfeld, when I visited Los Angeles. In high school, I often went bowling and ice skating.

I had a variety of jobs in December and in the summer, until I graduated from High School.  The first one was at Granat Bros. Jewelry for the Christmas Season, gift wrapping presents, taught by the other workers, for $0.50 per hour, a job my father got for me because he knew the Granats at their store on Mission Street.  I worked at the Emporium Department Store. First as a stock boy in the handbag department, next year selling men's and boys’ clothing. The year after that, I was selling throw rugs, it was dusty, and I developed viral pneumonia, went to Dr. Yellen, who said the only treatment was to stay at home, rest, sunbathe, and eat rich foods like half-and-half milk. I was in tears, and he said, “You have the rest of your life to work”. He had a serious illness at the time, and he died soon after that.

I did stock work at Benatar’s Drug Store on Market St., where my father knew the manager, the brother of Mark Lancer. Al Lanfeld and I  worked a few days at his father’s grocery store downtown, where we graded eggs by size, and I delivered groceries to nearby apartments.  One summer, I went to work at Siegler’s Hot Springs in Lake County. The first day, they sent me out on a truck with older men to dig dirt to repair a road, but that wasn’t fun, so I quit and went home.

I got a job in the ticket office at Kezar Stadium. The first day, another worker there showed me how to shortchange ticket buyers, who were rushing, and give them change for a smaller amount of paper money than what they had paid. I told my parents, and they convinced me not to go back.

I worked several times in December for the US Post Office. One season was sent out on an army truck delivering packages with two other young men, who I remember had a strong argument about the Christian theology of Saint Thomas Aquinas, which I knew nothing about. My last job was delivering mail to the route, which included our home, which was good for a rest while working, but walking the hills made my legs sore. I had previously delivered the Shopping News newspaper in the hills of our neighborhood.

We were very much aware of World War II. I had a map on the wall of my room, and I used pins to record the advancement of the Allied forces from Normandy, across France, and then into Germany. My father was very busy as Chairman of the War Services Committee of the B’nai B’rith lodge 21. I had a “victory garden” in our backyard at 320 Colon Ave., and grew a variety of vegetables. There was rationing of gasoline and other commodities. When I took a physical for the Draft, I was at first rejected as 4F because of my myopic eyes.

At Washington High School, I was in the class of December 1944. There were two graduating classes per year. During my three years at Washington, students were going into the services. In the Surveyor yearbook of June 1944, there are two pages of names of alumni in the Armed Services, about 400. The June 1943 yearbook showed that 5 graduates had been killed. Graduates either volunteered or faced the Draft.  Graduates often came back for a visit, wearing a uniform.

I started at Cal Berkeley in January 1945. The first year I played clarinet in the U.C. Marching Band. I liked playing at the football games, but I didn’t like wearing the uniform, which was uncomfortable. I was in the band for only one football season.

My friends at Cal noted that I walked very quickly.  Another thing they thought was distinctive was when I ordered eggs for breakfast, I followed it with apricot or apple pie, which was alright since I was very thin with a 29-inch waist at that time. The first year at Cal, I lived at a boarding house called White Manor on the north side. My friends and I  had a good time there, although we didn’t know it at the time. Some of the fraternity brothers who lived there were Don Schrager, Harold Bronstien, and Larry Feigenbaum. I had a roommate who was a mathematics major, and he helped me learn how to study and take exams. There were notable happenings there. When they served cherries, each person’s portion had exactly the same number of cherries. We joked that we were afraid to get the thick brown gravy on our hands or our clothes. We did strange things, like the time someone hung Charlie Jacobs by his arms out of a second-story window, and the owner down below yelled, “Don’t drop him”.  

The first pledge class of Pi Lambda Phi after the end of World War II was Stan Wiener, Don Seiler, Jerry Stern, and me. Stan and I met when we took some of the same classes at George Washington High School, and we became friends there and graduated in December 1944. Don Seiler and Jerry Stern graduated from Washington in June 1945, and I didn’t know them there, but Stan did. Jerry’s brother was an alumnus of the fraternity.

The next year, the fraternity got new members, and many of the older members returned from the Service and became active in the fraternity. The following year, the fraternity Alumni Association bought the house from the Hillel Foundation and remodeled it. The fraternity previously had a home on Piedmont and lost it during the War when the students left for the Armed Services. I never lived at the fraternity house because when I entered Optometry School, I commuted from our home in San Francisco, so I could study better.

One summer when I was at Cal, Jerry Stern and I went to work at Camp Curry in Yosemite.  When we got there, the job they gave us was in the kitchen, cleaning dishes, cleaning the floors, etc. We worked two days, and we were too tired at night to do anything, so we quit and got some money sent from home so that we stayed awhile without working..

One day, I was walking along Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley when I saw a newspaper stand with a very large headline, “Secret Weapon Against Japan”. I had no idea what it was, and later learned the first atomic bomb had been dropped on Japan. Everyone expected an invasion of Japan, which would have resulted in the loss of a vast number of United States servicemen.

The Japanese unconditionally surrendered on August 14, 1945, later called V-J Day. When we heard the news, Bernie Press and I took the train across the Bay Bridge from Berkeley to San Francisco and walked up Market Street from the train station. All cars and street-cars on Market stopped, and the street was filled with celebrating civilians and service men. Everyone was smiling, yelling, and greeting other people. Soldiers came from the Presidio, Fort Mason, etc. Sailors came from the many navy ships that were docked at the many piers of San Francisco and anchored in the Bay. Civilians and students came from all over the Bay Area. The famous photo of the sailor kissing a woman in Times Square was on V-J Day. V-J Day was a happy ending to a very difficult era.