The Jeweler’s Apprentice
A West Brighton kid in the Diamond Exchange Part One
One freezing December morning, two weeks before Christmas 1960, my father, Jerome, drove me to St. George and pulled our ‘53 pea-green DeSoto onto the Mary Murray, our favorite Staten Island ferry. Once we were out in the harbor, we got out of our car and felt the cold seawater spray on our faces while sharing a big soggy, salted pretzel. At the slip…
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