- Dr. Shirley Press Releases Memoir 'Pressing My Luck'
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- Pressing My Luck Archives - Shirley Press Official Site
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See More. Kisho Media, LLC. Published on Feb 11, Go explore. More colleagues joined us, and we talked about the impact sudden wealth would have on someone. Later, new information circulated around the hospital: The winner had purchased six tickets. For the first time, I considered the possibility that I had won. Still, this detail did narrow down the crowd.
When I arrived home, my husband and children had already finished dinner. The first three winning numbers were 3, 9 and One row of numbers on one of my tickets started with 3, 9 and My heart jumped just a little.
Dr. Shirley Press Releases Memoir 'Pressing My Luck'
Wow, could it be? I knew the winning ticket was sold in the gift shop. I knew there was only one winner. I knew … oh, stop it!
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I laughed out loud at the thought of my winning. Thank you. Now back to the grind of promoting my book Pressing My Luck. My memoir, Pressing My Luck, is now available in paperback format, in addition to Kindle version. It can be purchased at Amazon click here.
Clicking on the image also will also redirect you to Amazon. The eBook and softcover versions are forthcoming and will be available next week. Stay tuned. I arrived at p. There is nothing remarkable about a 6 pounds, 14 ounce baby girl, except that my very existence was a kind of miracle. My mother had survived Auschwitz, my father, Dachau.
Pressing My Luck Archives - Shirley Press Official Site
They met after both of them came separately to America. They married in They had defied the odds and now had the never-easy job of raising a child.
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The next chapter describes a detailed account of their lives. They rarely spoke of the Holocaust and chose not to burden my sister Barbara, born two-and-a-half years later, and me with the past. They reserved speaking Yiddish, their native language, for private times, of which there were few. At the time, it all seemed so normal. Yet we instinctively understood the precious legacy of survivor children.
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My dad worked in the grocery store of his Aunt Rose and Uncle Morris Dworkin, who sponsored his immigration to the United States after the war. My dad was a gentle, even-tempered soul. He always helped people. When he was in a position to do so, he would extend store credit to deserving customers. At the end of each week, customers would come in and pay their tab.
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I remember him best in his white apron. He had a heavy accent. In addition, until the day he died, he had a full head of brown hair without a speck of gray. I inherited that trait from him. To this day, I have yet to see my first gray hair.
There was a small grocery store — not ours — on the corner, and a nearby synagogue. It was a five-block walk to school.
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We knew many of our neighbors. Two blocks away lived our older cousins, Andrea, who we called Andy, and Mark Dworkin. Andrea grew up to find fame as a writer and feminist. However, as kids, it was Mark we sought out. We spent countless hours entertained by his bottle cap and baseball card collections.
I remember Andrea playing the piano, always reading, and talking with the adults. Later in life, we became close.