DEAR ABBY: The letters about tattoos brought back some painful memories.
The first tattoos I ever saw were on a young Dutchman who had come to America after World War II. He had three tattoos on his arm -- one for each Nazi concentration camp he had managed to survive.
Years later, I went to Israel and attended a concert at the Mann auditorium. In front of me sat two very elegant, refined-looking ladies. Both were wearing white kid gloves. I can't tell you the horror I felt when I noticed that both of them had numbers peeking out over the tops of their gloves. -- JANET DIDINSKY IN MARYLAND