I Love Jesse
In describing the pugilistic antics of his older brother, Harvey, Jerome Charyn evokes painful memories of bias in Brooklyn. To be sure, my Jewish friends in Williamsburg excelled in their studies and some starred in sports; but as fighters we proved less than potent. One exception, however, deserves mention. When a near pogrom visited our neighborhood in 1947, I watched a remarkable act of courage from the safety of my… Read More »I Love Jesse