There are many personal stories here on my site.

If you haven’t found any of them, they are worth looking for. Here is one.

I lived a life much like Tom Sawyer in that I had little parental oversight.

We had bows and arrows, guns, cattle whips, switch blade knives, bolos and even a blow gun. We were adventurous boys with a compliant father and busy mother. Our parents were often gone at work and we were raised by our oldest brother for the most part. He did a fine job but had his limitations.

Whenever the older boys tossed up a ball of frisbee onto the roof of our house, they would send me, the youngest, up to the roof by way of the garage door.

I would hold the garage door handle as they lifted it up and sent me up onto the roof to fetch what ever items might be there.

Once there, I would find the toy or item that was stuck up there and toss it back down.

It would not be unusual for the neighbors to see me, a very young child, running up on the roof of the house.

I came down in the same manner, most of the time. If my oldest brother was around, I might just leap off of the roof and hope that he might catch me.

I had a friend put a shotgun shell into a vice and hit it with a hammer. Not a great idea, it turns out. The wall near by was left less than perfect, but we were unscathed and had learned a valuable life lesson along the way.

I jumped off of the roof at a much older age and the results were less than spectacular, but that is another story for another time.

Perhaps tomorrow.