Born on a farm in that ancient period of time known as “the great depression,” I was next to the youngest of eleven children and three adopted siblings. Being large and mature looking -and tired of the poverty, I lied about my age (15) and between the 10th and 11th grades of High School, I went to work in construction. Between grades 11 and 12, I traded my horse for a motorcycle, as In that year I earned enough to buy a 1947 Harley-Davidson. This created yet another “identity problem” for me, because it’s very difficult to ride a motorcycle while wearing a cowboy hat.