I was born during the depression, or rather at the end of it. By all rights, I shouldn't be here. I was the 11th child, and I'm sure my arrival was not heralded as a blessed event. I should have been dead before my first birthday and tagged as another statistical victim of poverty. My family would have to borrow money to be labeled "poor". They were in downright poverty. I wasn't a bad child, but I wasn't a good child either... I was spoiled by my adoptive parents.