This is the front of the house on East 45th Street. My uncle's family lived down below,
but we were not particularly close in those days. Papa took the photo, apparently into a brilliant
afternoon sun.
Everyone was smiling.
Mr. Falk owned the next next
house down, across the narrow alleyway. He was very, very old (or at least we thought so), and we regarded
him to be quite deranged. Experiences with him, or even the
threat of seeing him, were always scary.
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