Starting in 1938 at age three, my parents separated by divorce. Given up to three Foster Families, hard times and good living, eventually not being accepted by Cal and Mimi Farley at Boy's Ranch, finally, in 1940, finding a permanent home on the farm of George and Mattie Cope at Happy Texas. Raised in the faith of an Un-Denominational Church, Dust Bowl existence in the Panhandle, acceptance by a loving family, gut wrenching, throat knotting, WW-2 memories when I knew my brothers were in the midst of War overseas, and eventual acceptance of life as it comes. These parents, real and borrowed, are all gone now, but this is part of History, theirs and mine, that begs to be told.