My Getaway Car

War Reels, Liquor Store Holdups, and My Exploits on the Rails

World War Two, which started when I was 11 years old, was a difficult time for my family. Housing became scarce, particularly for a household of ten. I was the oldest of eight children. We lived in a working-class neighborhood at the corner of 53rd and San Pedro in Los Angeles. It was not a place I remember with fondness. We were cramped for space, my parents were becoming estranged, and crime was a growing problem. The kindest thing I can say about our home is that it was located …