Every story has its beginning, and my beginning is in Utah on September 11, 1961. My parents were married in December 1948. I have an older brother and three older sisters. At the time, my father was working in the fire protection trade, and my mother was a stay-at-home mom. My father became a minister shortly before I was born, I believe, but he was a preacher at a church in Utah. We lived in the parsonage next to the church. In 1964, my little sister came along. I felt like she had taken my position in life as the baby. I did not care for this little thing - this baby. It should have been a boy. It was supposed to be a boy like me, and my dad discussed it on the porch. I can remember rocking in the rocking chair on the front porch of the parsonage with my father talking about whether it was a boy or a girl, and I wanted a boy - no more girls. I was three years old then - soon to be four.
