One could say the seed of my interest in Henry Darger goes back to my youth in Northwest Indiana, watching the thunder storm skies gathering.

We had dark clothes on and snappy little newsboy caps. We’d shopped at Amvets two days before in order to dress properly for our parts. I saw Vince put the gun in his pocket but I didn’t say anything. We pulled nylon stockings over our heads even though there wasn’t supposed to be anyone home. Still, why take chances. But I had hay fever and I was sneezing all the time, so I took mine off.