Just after Navy service in the Korean War, I worked on an afternoon newspaper called the Beverly Hills Citizen, now long gone. The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, about two miles from my office, was the place to be for movie stars to be seen, meet, dine, drink, book rooms and fool around ever since it was first built in 1927.

The general belief in tourist minds today is that glamorous stars, agents, moguls and hangers-on still haunt the Hollywood Roosevelt, and evenings can be fun times for autograph hounds, paparazzi and cell-phone photo freaks. The hotel is right across the street from the city's most famous tourist trap, Grauman's Chinese Theater (now the Mann Theater), so the walk-in traffic is always heavy.However, after 80 years, today both the hotel and theater are a bit threadbare. This era’s really A-list stars and their snooty companions rarely visit seedy Hollywood Boulevard, and do most of their living and playing in the hills of Beverly, Holmby, Malibu and in other posh communities west to the ocean.

I remember Atlantic City faintly, at age three, when our family took the train from Philly’s 30th Street Station on early Sunday mornings in July and August. We changed to swim suits in a bath house, then spent several hours on the beach. Then, after a sandwich and soda at a Boardwalk stand, we’d take a bag of salt water taffy back to the train. I believe the day’s total cost for our family of five was $20, a bit expensive for those days.

I have a much clearer memory of a visit in the summer of 1946. By then, my mother’s sister and her husband were owners of a small hotel just a block from the Boardwalk. My brother and I, just returned after service in WWII, were rewarded with a free room for a week at their hotel. Of course, it was the cloakroom just behind the front desk, with a bathroom down the hall. But since it usually rented out for $7 a day, we appreciated the gift.

“I keep my ideals, because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart.” Anne Frank wrote that in her diary more than 65 years ago. Unfortunately, despite her talent and courage, the little girl was wrong. Not only because the Germans killed her and millions of others, but because we still must face the insane hatred of nutcase dictators, suicide bombers and other fantatic murderers today.

The Anne Frank House Museum presents special events this year to celebrate what would have been Anne’s 80th birthday. On display will be the teenage Holocaust victim's diaries and other writings. The depth, sensitivity and high quality of her work adds to the sadness for her brief 15 years of life. It is certain she could have had a brilliant career as a writer.