As my excitement increases in anticipation of traveling to Stuttgart, I came across an old leather bound photo album with this picture. I'm convinced that it represents my first set of wheels. I kind of like the fairing on the large steering wheel. This was about as early as my memories go. I do recall discovering some unpleasant facts about gravity when I pedaled into a small stairway, only 4 or 5 stairs, but an unpleasant encounter with the concrete, and a lot of tears, and not a lot pedaling after that, until, at a rather long interval, my uncle Herb insisted that I was ready for a two wheeled bicycle. At about that time, my older cousin, Yale, had progressed to a Whizzer motor bike.
The ability to cover long distances, 4 or 5 miles at a time, gave me a new sense of freedom, but it was long before I fell in love with cars. I was still dreaming of being a fighter pilot.
