On Swing Street: Fifty-second Street was the world of music, of jazz music, and as a matter of fact, there are still some stones on our side, on the "21" side of the street where every block had an inscription on the stone, either a guy's hands or his legs or something. Every other house was either a dance place, a music place, or a drink place. It was a wonderful street. On Growing Up On The Lower East Side: I was the second person born in America. My sister came before me, then I, then another sister, then another brother. So we were eight children living in this one apartment. The house in which I lived was a five-story house, a walk up. We lived on the fifth floor. One toilet on the floor for the four families. That's why I still have my indigestion troubles. That's 92 years ago. You go down there now and the street is always full of people. If we were on the street, we were on our way to synagogue across the street and then back home. The barber would come for two cents and give me a haircut, he'd have an empty fruit container, a box that oranges would be packed in that would be empty. I'd sit on that -- this was when I was about two or three years old -- and he'd cut my hair and he'd take cologne and put it on my head and for two cents or three cents, whatever he could grab, and that was it. On "21" During Prohibition: We sold liquor in demitasse cups, so that if a raid was to happen or if a raid was coming in, people would just drink it down. If you had no liquor actually to bring to court, there was no evidence and you were thrown out of court. The greatness of the place was that when it was to be raided or when it was raided, you pressed a button and the shelves would curve down and any of the bottles that were on the shelves dropped down into a bed of rocks, and all the liquor bottles were smashed, and there was no evidence to bring to court. So then again, you beat the government out of it. We were twice raided in all the years we were in business.		Photo: Kevin Gordon The fourth of eight children born to immigrant parents, Kriendler joined the family business of saloon-keeping after graduating from law school at St. Lawrence University. His brother Jack and their cousin Charlie Berns, who had been operating saloons and speakeasies since the 1920s, opened the legendary "21" in 1930. A den of collapsing shelves, secret spaces, and hidden storage areas, the saloon was at the forefront of raid-proof technology. "Mr. Pete," as he is still known to "21" staff, took over management of the restaurant in the 1970s and has recently written a book called "21" EVERY DAY WAS NEW YEAR'S EVE: THE MEMOIRS OF A NEW YORK SALOONKEEPER (1999, Taylor Publishing Company).