He remembered the teacher in the fall of his sixth-grade school year.
The teacher -- call him Mr. J. -- was an old man -- at least in his 50, He had gray-black hair slicked back by some pomade that the neon lights on the ceiling of the classroom made shiny.
Mr. J. once told two girls who were talking away in class: "You sound like two New York Jews on a street corner going vutt vutt vitty vitty vutt vutt."
He said it at least once, maybe twice or three times.
Mr. J. was replaced for the second semester of the school year. He didnj't know why, because the powers that be gave no explanation. But as he thought of it later, it probably was for that anti-Semitic outburst.
Ironically, Mr. J. wore a white shirt with buttonless collars, a black tie and a black suit -- somewhat like Hasidic dress.