LETTER from TERRY BERKSON Chickie’s Greatest Gift When I was 8 years old, the hero in my life was my cousin Chickie, who drove an oil truck and often took me with him on deliveries. The job led him all over Brooklyn and, being somewhat of a scavenger, he often came home with a bike or a wagon or some other discarded contraption he thought would be useful. We lived in Bensonhurst, in a 12-room Victorian that had been divided…