ABSTRACT
Suburban Connecticut, 1962: I’m seven and out canvassing the neighborhood, collecting cans and bottles to raise money for the relief organization, CARE. When we go to redeem the stockpile at the Grand Union, a picture is taken for the Hartford Courant. Everyone seems happy except the man at the Grand Union who has to sort the cans and bottles. He starts in on the pile, red-faced and cussing. It’s my first exposure to the complex politics of charitable acts.
