It just didn’t make sense. My parents took me to an Anglican Church and at first I thought the stories were just stories, like Winnie the Pooh and the other children’s books they read to me. Then, when I was about seven or eight, I suddenly realized that guy up from was serious. It shocked and frightened me. How could they believe such nonsense?

On the way out of church, I took my father’s hand and asked him if he believed what had been said today. That question shocked him a little too, but he answered somewhat honestly, saying “No, not really,” or something like that. I then asked him if the other people believed it. He said some probably did, or believed some of it.

I refused to go to church from that day on. I also refused to say “under God” in the mandatory pledge of allegiance at school. As that had only been added recently (1954, when I was six), it wasn’t quite as rebellious as it might sound.