Just in case anyone is wondering how it all turned out, in 1965 when I was 12 years old, I decided that I didn’t want to be a boy. I wanted to be a girl.
At Schwartz Park, which was fortunately, right across the street from our house, we had the opportunity to watch a little league game any night of the week. More important than watching the game was the fact that if you kept score you would get free snow-cones and bubble gum or that if you were faster than all the other kids and you were the one to recover a foul ball that had gone over the fence, you got freebees from the snack bar.
Well, one night a young ball-player hit a high foul ball that flew over the back fence. I, and 4 or five others determined to get the ball first, went after it. When I landed at the bottom the pile, in a ditch, on top of the ball with 5 guys on top, I realized that this was not a comfortable position to be in.
From that day on, I decided that I wanted to be a girl. Boys were toooo rough.
I’m not real sure where my big brother J.P. was. I am sure Dad didn’t know anything about this, but he was relieved to know that from then on, I wanted to be a girl.