ABSTRACT
My earliest memory is not a real memory at all, but rather an event that I was told about as an older child. Over time, the memory grew in size and stature, as second-hand memories tend to, and it required some local research in order to base it in reality. I have held on tightly to this memory for all of my life, I think, because it is the only instance I have of being in affectionate physical contact with my father.
