I was born in 1942 and some of my earliest trackable memories were about Jackie Robinson (his World altering debut-Rookie Year was in1947) and people exclaiming "As quick as Jackie Robinson".

However, my first tangible memories were of "Uncle Miltie" in the late 40s and "I Love Lucy" in the early 50s. TV was new then and a sensation. We were even enthrall ed by the black and white test pattern on our channel 2-13 TV menu. 

Somehow, Edward R. Murrow broke through too with his epic socially conscious "See It Now" on CBS. 

I was a Yankee fan who grew up adoring "The Mick", Mickey Mantle, and was spoiled by World Series from 1949-53 and 1955-58. 

We had General Motors cars and moved from Forest Hills to an original Levitt home in Roslyn. I went to Summer camp and the living was easy as I graduated from Little League to Babe Ruth League to the Roslyn Baseball Varsity. I was no Mickey Mantle, but I was living a dream. 

The purpose of the above is to set the stage for my recent recognition that virtually all of those doting fathers had survived the horrors of a very recent World War II and our mothers had paid their price too. Yet, except for a glance at the butcher's tattooed arm and some "War Pictures" or RCA's "Victory At Sea", we didn't have a clue. 

Our parents were serving up a dream world to help them forget and no wonder the 1960s came crashing down on us. 

Oh, the innocence!