I was born and raised in the typical and somewhat isolated town of Redding, California where I started my life"s first adventures and I grew up slowly but quickly enough. The summers of my youth could get pretty hot, as I remember. Fortunately the ice cream man came by frequently, ringing his little bell which we could always hear well in advance, way off in the distance. If we had been good kids that day, which we were most of the time (of course) my mother would treat us. We had to eat quickly, as the ice cream would melt all over our hands. Note how we are barefoot, which was okay in those days and felt really good.
This is my favorite picture of that wonderful era. In the background to the far left, you can see the classic 1957 Buick my Mom would drive us around in. I would secretly climb up on the roof and jump off, pretending I was Superman. Once I fell on my face and bit my tongue really bad. For some reason, I also had a phobia of cars, and when they would approach the house going down the hill, I would run into the garage and hide (excitedly) behind that Buick until the car had passed by.
My dog tag.
When I was little I had the tendency to walk around aimlessly and get lost (I still do to this very day). When I was three years old I decided to follow a friendly dog (an Irish Setter, I am pretty sure) into the hills and we wandered around in the woods. My mother got scared when I did not return and looked everywhere. Finally, the police were notified and my picture was even put on television for everyone to be on the lookout. I still remember this all pretty clearly, and recall being found in some garage or workplace where these mechanics were busy repairing automobiles. Below there is also a picture of me in front of the house on my bicycle. I would zip around the neighborhood, and when in summer it got really hot, I would take off my clothes and cycle around nude. I sure didn't care back in those days.
Those were certainly carefree and wonderful days in Redding, California and I remember them very well. Below you can see two maps showing where this youth of mine took place, including a close-up of where Overhill Drive actually was.