My Grandmother had a story she liked to tell about me, which happened when I was probably 3 or 4 years old. I had a brown felt hat that my Dad had discarded and I wore it everywhere. I had a big head even then because the hat didn't swallow me up. I was also fairly gregarious even as a child. My next door neighbor, Billy, was my frequent playmate. One day I put on my old hat and proceeded across our yard, through the hedge, and over to Billy's. In a few moments, I ran back into our yard screaming with blood pouring down the side of my face. For some reason, Billy swung a lead pipe, which connected with my skull.