MY LIFE IN PHOTOS - CHILDHOOD
Me and my brother Gary (three years younger) in our shared bedroom in Detroit. We actually had separate rooms until our sister Marci was born and then we moved into the same space. Gary often talked in his sleep which I found odd. He also could go into fits of hysterical laughter at the simple use of a word, like “rhinoceros.” When he was born my mom told me he was “my” brother. I have felt possessive ever since.
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Professional photo of my mom, Sondra, me around 6 and Gary around 3.
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Gary and me in front of our living room fire place. The living room was our play space. Jumping on furniture was our bouncy house. The running around game after my sister was born was our primary form of exercise.
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Gary and me standing over the crib holding our sister Marcy (later Marci) who had just been born. Her arrival lit up our house. She now has five children of her own and lights up many houses.
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Me, my sister Marci, and my cousin Wendy in our Detroit kitchen.
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Me, our dog Peppy, and Gary on our living room floor.
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My sister Marci, age 4.
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Me and my cousins, Wendy, Betsy and Margy. They were truly like my sisters.
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Me, gaining weight, with my arm around my cousin Joanie from my dad’s side of the family. We were like sisters and best friends combined. Still are. She has become a world celebrated photographer. Some of her images are on this site.
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My Dad’s mother Dora’s first cousin married Al Warner of the Warner Bros. This relationship always connected me to the movie business. I used to tell kids at Saturday matinees that Bugs Bunny and crew were my cousins.
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In cub scouts around age 10. I am sitting at the head of the table. My mom is behind me far left. My dad is far right. There are more stories to everyone sitting there than a photo caption could contain.
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Mr. McCarty was my sixth and seventh grade teacher. He opened my eyes to the world and set me on the path to becoming a writer. We would often discuss current events to start our class. When the discussion got heated we would simply forget English and Math and just talk. I loved that he did that for us.
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My dad in the kitchen.
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My aunt Pearl joining us for breakfast in our Tracy kitchen. She and her girls had come to Detroit from California for the funeral of my Uncle Mike, Esther’s husband. It was a strange reunion with my cousins—both sad and celebratory and it was a moment where they realized they should move back to Detroit.
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My dad holding up the fort.
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My graduation photo from Vernor Elementary School in 1956. Of course everyone in this image is woven deeply into the fabric of my life.
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A closeup of my graduation photo. I am the heavyset guy in the top row third from the right. Mark is third from the left.
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This is me, 4 years later, one of my graduation photos from high school.
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And this is me, 3 months later, after losing 20 pounds with the help of Dexedrine, an amphetamine my mom offered me that had helped her lose weight. I also started smoking. I became someone else.
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A wide-angle of the skinny Bruce in the newly built family room in the house on Tracy Street. It was if I had not only graduated from high school, I had gradated from childhood.
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