I got in touch with Liga Auzins, a classmate in high school. Liga is from Germany and could drive a young boy wild - the legs, the rack, the blue eyes, the blonde hair, the body.

I'm thinking that after 45 years she still looks the same.

Classmates.com is OK to go to but you can't go back to anything. The house in Hempstead I grew up in that my father had built new in 1953 makes me cry every time I drive by it.

It's nice to hear from some old farts though. My buddy Steve Edelman (Air Force Academy, '69) was thrilled to learn that I wasn't killed as a Marine. Steve and I used to hump as busboys at Temple Beth Israel for weddings and other great Jewish celebrations from 6 at night until 3 in the morning for $10. And we got $1.25 an hour for humping and hauling for Beroza Plumbing after school.

Some real good Jewish people gave me work when I was a young Irish Catholic kid in school. I will never forget that kindness and the chance to make a few bucks from some OK businessmen. Mr. Beroza was out of Pitkin Avenue, East New York, Brooklyn and one day he handed me my pay envelope. I think it had $8 in it which was huge money in 1964 for me. He grabbed me and slid a fiver into my pants pocket - he told me to give the five to my mother or he'd kick my ass all over Front Street and maybe onto South Franklin Street.

I obeyed him. Now when I run to to Reisterer's Bakery in West Hempstead I sometimes drive by Mr. Beroza's building as an old fart and only the badly-faded painted sign is still on the building - Beroza's Plumbing Supply. Now the street there is jammed with illegal aliens and "people of color" who carry guns and love to be arrested.

Nope, you can't ever go back - everything good then is gone and everything you missed ain't coming back.