'Do You Want to Know a Secret?'

It was a rare occasion that I remembered something that Ken didn't. As a matter of fact, the very first time Ken showed a sign of depression, though I didn't realize it at the time, was the first time he couldn't remember something at will. I still don't recall (ahem) what it was exactly, but he truly panicked and was terrified that day. I assumed it was just an early sign of aging, when he was somewhere around twenty-two years old. For Ken, it was catastrophic.
One thing I did recall that he didn't was that the very first 45 recording Ken and I both received (that's the part I remembered that he didn't) was the Beatles Do You Want to Know a Secret? We were too young to realize it was a love song from Pat to us in her own way, as she was like a second mom to us. It would be the only record I would have for who knows how long, and would listen to it over and over on our primitive record player. It had a profound effect on me, as its positive message gave me hope at the ripe old age of 6, while the world had seemed to have fallen apart. It took me years before I realized it was George doing the singing. Buying a 45 once in a while was all we could hope for till Meet the Beatles came along.
Seeing the Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show clinched it for us, and everyone else watching that night, though it kinda made me squirm uncomfortably, just like when we saw Elvis on the same show earlier . We were at our aunt's place in Hawthorne, NY., and it was both strange and exciting at the same time. It opened the way for us to get our first LPs. Of course, being siblings, we had to have our own copies.
It would not only be the Beatles, of course. It primed us for all of the great, and mostly positive, music that was broadcast on AM radio then, WABC and WMCA in particular. The veterans of those stations would move on to what would be called 'oldies' radio on WCBS FM in 1972 when AM and FM changed places, FM being better for music quality. AM went to talk shows and news, whereas FM had been talk and classical music, which was fading.
What excited Ken and I even more than the Beatles in those days was when dad would pick us up on alternate Fridays, after our frozen Catholic TV dinner fish sticks and french fries which we ate while watching Superman on the black and white TV. It was Xmas Eve every time.
One more eerie coincidence. The first time I went back to Ken's place after he died, the radio was still set to 101.1, but it had changed to 'Jack FM'.

Music 101.1

Though Ken would not delve deeply into the classical repertoire till the latter years of college, just when depression was about to kick in with a vengeance, the seed had been planted when he was a tyke. It was thanks to Grandpa Wicht, who always had classical music playing, that impressed him in that vein.
When I say Classical, I mean it. Neither Grandpa, and therefore Ken, had much interest in Renaissance, Baroque, or Romantic music.
But we were both distracted by the fact that we were kids and it was the 60's. Ken would point out that the first official rock hit, 'Rock around the Clock', was #1 when he was born. Nevertheless, we were both weaned on the Beatles.
We benefited form having a teenage lady from Ireland as a housekeeper when we were little. Her name was Pat Henebry, and the fact that my now single mom could afford anything, much less a live-in housekeeper, is amazing today. How poor was Ireland still then...
The radio was always on, and it was wonderful. Every day was exciting with the latest songs being broadcast, and the great race to the top of the charts. Everyone listened to the same 2 or 3 stations: WABC or WMCA, both AM stations. The only thing left today that I know of that kept whatever shared culture coherent in any meaningful as the radio did is baseball, and it's a rather sad reflection of the days when there was integrity and loyalty in the sport.
We were into Motown as it unfolded. Everyone was, black or white. Blacks were pissed that just as Motown was in full glory, these white boys from England were taking everything over. Civil Rights tensions were already on the rise. Again, keep in mind, they were all vying for the same few radio stations in New York.
For a few months after we moved into Rockville Centre in '63, Ken and I were trapped coming home from school in the parking garage in the basement of our apartment. It seemed to be on a daily basis then, as I would be held back while Ken had the shit kicked out of him. It almost became a ritual, and it was in part a hazing of sorts, being the new white kids on the block. We tried to find ways to get back into the apartment safely, but we were outnumbered. Ken would later claim it didn't hurt as they held him to the ground and punched into his gut repeatedly while I screamed and cried watching. Believe him? Before long, they were playing basketball together when they found out Ken could play as well as they. 'Beaver' Smith became center of the St. John's team years later. I remember his younger brother 'Chucky' whipping me with clothesline when we came to meet and walk with them to school one morning, with his poor mom trying to stop him.
It was a rude awakening of sorts, but the music would help us get by.