Having lived a lifetime of always wanting a little more of what life had to offer rather than being satisfied with the full plate that was in front of me, I now feel, being in the late evening of my years and reflecting back, I have something to offer on the following subject: Determining at which point in my life I really did grow up.
At the age of 17, I thought I was there. At 19 when I met a girl and got married, I again thought I was there. At 26 and going through a divorce, I felt for sure I was done growing up. Only after going to work as an underground miner in Butte, Montana and encoutering the hazards and truly hard work that was required to make it in that kind of occupation, did I finally become a qualifying adult.
I looked back at those other times and I smiled to myself. I had achieved growing up. I had faced some of the perils of life that some people never do or will and I am here to tell about it. Some of my friends I grew up with who ventured out and took their chances didn't make it. I think of them often and realize how fortunate I am. With the help of my brother John who was 14 years older than me, I finally grew up in Butte, Montana.
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