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Springtime 1977, I was laughing on my grandmother’s front stoop in Queens. I can’t recall what was so funny, but I remember this: falling off the stoop and chipping my newly minted front tooth. I ran inside to show my mother and grandmother. Panic ensued. The dentist was called. Days later, I sat in Dr. Kornfeld’s office as he expertly repaired the chip. His handiwork has miraculously held for 45 years. My current dentist suggests that I replace the composite with something new, but I refuse. My smile remains a tiny memorial to a kindly, skilled dentist I’ll never see again.