11 year-old boy comes to terms with disability 50 years later
Disability comes in many different flavors. As an 11 year-old child it was a mental disability due to a tragedy in my family. As an adult, it was a physical disability due to a surfing accident. Let me explain. It has been 51 years since my father was shot and killed in New York City, in the borough of Manhattan. He was killed in October 1966 at the age of 28. At the time, I was living in a South Bronx project development called the "Moore Houses," adjacent to St. Mary's Park. We lived on the 19th floor, apartment 19L, at 525 Jackson Avenue. We had a great view of the East River and could see LaGuardia Airport from our bedroom windows. My sisters, Lisa and Debbie, were ages four and two respectively, and shared a room at the rear of the apartment. My younger brother Victor and I shared a room, as well as memories we would never forget. Although we were on the 19th floor, we could hear the sounds and chatter on the street. The sounds of music, people talking and s