Ever wonder what it would be like to grow up in a car?

I grew up homeless in the '60s, traveling from one end of Route 66 to the other. Seven children and our parents packed into an old broken-down car, stealing or begging for food and gas to get to the next town. Occasionally, we would move our carload of belongings into a house, with or without permission of the owner, and stay for a month or two. Sometimes we lived in a tent by a river. We were usually cold and hungry. It is only by the grace of God that I am alive today to tell you my story.