Hotel next to the Eden Roc, for I remember my father coming home from work there one night and telling my mother he would take her to see "Martin Dean." My mother was unimpressed, thinking he meant Jimmy Dean or someone else. They never went.

My father was always confused about names. He once inexplicably told a cousin that my name was Klaus and it went into the family tree that way for years. Perhaps a carryover from when he lived in Nazi Germany and everyone made up names to survive?