An Authentic Life 1.1 for pdf - Universalist Radha-Krishnaism

When I was eight, we moved to a new four
bedroom home on a quarter acre in Lake Ronkonkoma,
on Long Island about fifty miles east of the city.
The area was rural then. A wonderful woods right
behind my backyard with wild blueberries was my
new playground. I made a tree house, underground
fort, lean-to, and log cabin. I enjoyed the outdoors,
archery, fishing, hiking, ice skating and sports. I loved
this country, soon to be suburban, environment until I
became a teenager. Then I wanted to be in the city
with a hip culture and things to do other than hang
out in the bowling alley.
Dad got a job installing fences and fenced in
our backyard where we had a garden, chickens, pidgins,
rabbits, and a dog. Then he worked in a delicatessen
that he soon bought. It was a family operated
business where I also worked starting at ten years old.
We formed a bowling team with shirts that said,
“Bill’s Deli.” Life was good. We lived the American
dream with a house in the suburbs, a new ’58 Chevy
sedan, and a Ford pickup.
Dad bought another deli and suffered a disabling
stroke while working there. He was legally
blind and couldn’t walk fast enough to get a seeingeye-dog.
We lost both stores due to the cheating clerk
we left in charge. Dad never worked again. We
quickly went from middle class to poor when I was
thirteen.
I was a bright student but hung out with a
rowdy crowd. When I graduated sixth grade, I got a
medal from the Daughters of the American Revolu-
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