Trick-or-Treating Alone, Too Late: My Boyhood Continues

Halfway through the 1950s, I realized with unprecedented clarity that there was something very wrong with me, and something right. I wasn’t nearly as good at sports as I hoped to be, and my fearfulness (I was my mother’s son) precluded my being able to do things that other boys could do easily, like swim or ride a two-wheeler. Indeed, my fearfulness (in…