Steve, my other neighborhood buddy, lived next door. We were much closer in age than Mary and I, with our birthdays being only six months apart. I spent quite a bit of time with him, though more so during the summer months; we were in separate grades in school and that seemed to make a slight difference in our friends. In grade school, more than any other higher school of education one is more aware of age, somehow relating that directly to one's social status; in effect, a person of a higher grade should not be caught dead conversing with his younger neighborhood friends, at least not at school. Once apart from our peers, we were the greatest of friends. We often sought out windfalls in the woods, which made terrific "camps," or simply hiked along the creek bed. Names were bestowed upon various landmarks according to their appearance; one drop-off was christened "dead man's bluff" while a small grove of wild chives was called "the onion field." There was a seemingly endless amount of diversion in the woods and we used it to our best advantage. It was Steve I chose to accompany me on family excursions to parks and wildlife refuges; he was more game to tromp through the woods than were many of my companions. One of the attributes which gave Steve rare character was his flawless honesty with respect to one's appearance or annoying habits. He would as quickly inform a person of a rip in his garment as he would another who was oblivious of the mucous running from his nose. If there was something amiss that by most standards should be set aright, he would see that it was done. Through Steve's keen insight and equally sharp ability to verbalize these faults, I was made aware of the fact that I walked "pigeon-toed" and soon corrected the matter through close observation. Personally, I feel grateful to Steve. There is no crime in voicing that which, with time or practice, can be overcome. Some people who are quick to express the faults of others also lack all tact and sensitivity. This was not so with Steve. In his perceptiveness, he unquestionably found room for a great amount of personal concern and interest. Perhaps the most touching instance in which I witnessed this demonstration of care was when I was yet quite young. We were playing outside on the Tarzan swing in my backyard, when, without warning, a loud clap of thunder issued forth from the gray sky. So completely taken by surprise was I that I began to cry. It would have been so easy for him to mock my fright, but instead he jumped up and headed for his house, yelling, "Wait here!" Several minutes passed before he returned carrying a banana. He presented it to me, saying, "This will cheer you up!" He was not aware that I truly disliked bananas, but I was so touched by his show of affection that I humbly ate the fruit and thanked him for his kindness. That little episode of human kindness shall forever remain dear to me. It also altered somewhat my view of bananas.