My mother, my sister, and I were in the kitchen of the Farmhouse of the 386-acre Gallia County Farm. My mother had a silver knife which I had pounded with something until the knife was bent out of shape. My mother was quite upset about what I had done, because she had a whole set of silverware of which the knife was a part. She was quarreling with me as she stood there trying to straighten up the knife. She handed me the knife to look at what I had done. I just turned away and without even looking at her, I tossed the knife at her. When I heard her scream, I turned around and saw the knife embedded about two centimeters in the upper part of her chest.

I ran over to her and pulled the knife out. She was wearing two shirts, and I tore the first one open. I hesitated about tearing the second shirt open, because I knew it would expose part of her breast, but I tore it open anyway, exposing only the upper part of her breast. I could see a nasty cut, which I tried to push together with my hands. She was obviously in pain, but I did not think the wound was serious enough to warrant her having to go to the hospital. I said, "Well, we're going to have to call a doctor, an ambulance."

I decided the wound was going to require some stitches, and said, "No, we're just going to have to get in the car and take you straight to the hospital."

I picked her up in the air and carried her outside, where my paternal step-grandfather Clarence pulled up on a tractor. I told him I had thrown a knife at my mother, and now we were going to have to take her to the hospital. He asked me if I had done it on purpose and I told him I had not, that it had been an accident. I said, "That doesn't matter now. We've just got to go."

I laid her down on the ground and turned away for a moment. I heard my mother scream, and when I looked back at her, I realized Clarence had run over one of my mother's arms with the bush-hog which he had on the back of the tractor. I ran over to her and saw that her arms had not been chopped up. Only the tire had run over her arms.

My mother was taken to the Gay Street House, where she was being cared for. When I myself arrived in Portsmouth, I began walking down an alley in the direction of the Gay Street House. I was only wearing a blue tee shirt. I had earlier been wearing pants, but I did not have them on any more. Since the tee shirt only came down to my navel, I was nude from the navel down. I began trying to pull the tee shirt down because I knew when I reached the House, people would probably be there.

I reached the House and walked in the back door into the kitchen. My sister and Bolata (a little girl who lived next door to the Gay Street House) were inside. Bolata (about 6 years old) and my sister (about 10 years old) likewise were wearing tee shirts and were looking for underwear for themselves. They were also exposed from the waist down. At first I could not see either of them clearly, but then while Bolata was standing in the bathroom next to the kitchen, I noticed she had a small penis, and then I noticed my sister also had a small penis.

I had my tee-shirt pulled down far enough so they could not see my private parts. I ran down into the basement to look for some underwear. I saw some old pairs of white underwear hanging on the clothesline in the basement. I took one pair and smelled it to see if it was dirty. I was unsure whether it had been washed and I thought it might be dirty. I put it on.

I walked back upstairs and decided to go and visit my old friend, Mike Walls. I drove a car to the neighborhood where I thought Walls lived, but I could not find his house. I found another house where I thought Walls' house should be, and I thought Walls' house must have been torn down for some reason.

I saw another house I thought was his but then saw that no one was living in it. I got out of the car and walked around behind the house, and then saw Walls' house not far away from there. About a third of a meter of snow was on the ground; I began trudging through it, even though I did not have any shoes on. I did not mind it, and I even thought the snow felt invigorating. After a while, however, my feet did begin to feel cold.

I reached Walls' house and walked up beside a large porch on the house. A path through the snow led to the front door. As I began walking along the path, a car was pulling up. I continued to the door and walked on inside. To my left was Walls sitting on a couch; another fellow was sitting beside him. Stretched out on the floor on the other side of the room was Fulkerson (a law student). That did not really surprise me, because I thought Fulkerson had probably come there to buy some marijuana. I was unsure Fulkerson smoked marijuana, but I thought he probably did. He said, "Hi, Steve."

I had never spoken to Fulkerson before, but I said, "Hi Tom."

I thought as long as we were there, so far from law school, we might as well talk. Davis (another law student) was also in the room sitting behind Fulkerson. I was disconcerted for a moment, because I thought it might have been Davis who had said hello to me and not Fulkerson.

I pointed out that I was barefoot and that it was invigorating to walk barefoot in the cold. Someone said they just could not believe I was barefoot. It seemed as if a Christmas tree were behind Davis. I began wondering what I would do if the others began smoking marijuana. Would I smoke also? I felt good about being here, but I felt apprehensive when I thought about whether I would smoke.