The fears and frightening memories of childhood never quite leave us, even when we are adults in our 60s and 70s. They may not return to us on a weekly, monthly, or yearly basis but they are still there. They are tucked into a small crevice in our brain. Only when the proper or improper synapse occurs do they jump out at us and remind us of our terror many years prior.

Last week my friend Mort Steinberg and I decided to take lunch on Arthur Avenue in our mutual former home, the Bronx. Off we went over the Throgs Neck (what is a Throg anyway?) Bridge. Since we are both retired, nothing was rushing us and we stopped at my old neighborhood on Bryant Avenue and 174th Street. We traveled down Bronx River Avenue and were about to make a left to go over the 174th Street Bridge (I used to call it the eighth Wonder of the World) when I had a startling memory.

During WWII, when I was about 10 years old, daily newspaper and radio reports told of the atrocities the Nazis were inflicting on Europe's Jewish population. In my child's mind I was just plain "scared." What would I do if "God forbid" the Nazis came to America?

Just off Bronx River Avenue was a little niche in the concrete where a small boy could hide in safety. That was to be my spot where I would hide from the German invaders. Impractical, yes, but safe.

As Mort and I passed the spot, it sprang full-blown back into my memory. It had lain suppressed for 60 years. This was years before the A-bomb, Korea, Vietnam and Iraq. I laughed to myself and thought, "Where can I hide today in 2006, a new century, but with all the same horrors and genocides? What are my grandchildren afraid of today? Have they picked out their "safe spot" to hide from the world's terrorism?

Anyhow, to continue the story, my old apartment house and my father's store were gone. They were replaced by a huge Pathmark store. Mort and I ate lunch at Emilios, a wonderful Italian restaurant. We wandered along Arthur Avenue and bought bread, olive oil and biscottis. On the way home we passed Mort's old neighborhood off Pelham Parkway. It seemed to be prospering much better than mine. Old memories, stirred up and relived.

Back in the car and back to the safety of Jericho.