[Elspode]

I don't really know how old I was, but I couldn't have been more than 3, probably as young as 2. We were preparing to move from California (this would have been 1958 or 1959) to Kansas City. My father is loading a box truck with our stuff, rolling it up a ramp. I'm sitting on the driveway, turning (what I now realize was) a socket wrench, toggling it back and forth then twisting the socket, and then asking him if the temperature had changed inside the truck (he and whoever was helping him were complaining about being hot; apparently I had some notion that the wrench was a thermostat or something).

I have a few extremely fuzzy images in my brain of the drive back in the family car, which my mother and I made separate from my father, who drove the truck. I remember my mom worrying about my father's whereabouts when we stopped at one point in the desert.

Very little else, if anything, until I was more like 4 1/2-5 years.