Epic Fury by Debra Anne Neumann
It was a time of epic excitement as the conveyor belts of burgers bagged and selling, of bodies bagged and arriving, enthralled me.
It was a time of epic excitement as the conveyor belts of burgers bagged and selling, of bodies bagged and arriving, enthralled me.
My parents, roaring inside me, showed me that when you are dismayed by something offensive, and unconscionable in the world, you pounce into action. You do not pause to sit and muse or cogitate. You know. You feel. You hurl yourself in.
When I was a child in the Bronx in the 1940s, whenever a plan for the future was proposed, it would be followed by the phrase
“after the war.” My parents would say, “after the war” my father would quit Ritz radio and start his own business.