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I grew up - no, was dragged up - in Jackson Heights (Queens for those of you that never heard of the drug capital of the Northeast - at least a decasde or so ago, so I've been told), until we escaped to upstate New York. Since then, I've been on the move and have lived in all four corners of the US, and in Dallas for a brief period. But there's nothing quite like the South Bronx - especially during the pre-Rudi Giuliani days. . .Ah, yes - Jerome Ave. - the halfway point between my cousin's home in Jersey and my old place in Connecticut. Used to breath a sigh of relief everytime we made it thru there and the car didn't break down. Re: the South Bronx - a car of mine was stolen once in north Jersey, and ended up in Honest Nick's Inpound Yard in the South Bronx, and from the time it entered the lot until I was able to get the insurance adjuster to settle the claim, the engine, trans, and entire leather interior 'disappeared' inside the yard. Someone with a sense of humor obviously named the place with their tongue firmly planted in their cheek. Almost forgot to include a Greek diner and a couple of folks demanding to clean the windshield of cars stopped at an intersection. . .Remember that? BILL
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