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I did most of my really dumb, dangerous deeds before I was ten.
When I was two years old I managed to take my tricycle out onto Route 17 in northern NJ (a major commuter highway, even in the early 50s) because I felt I belonged out there with the cars.
When I was six we lived near a small brook that had some large storm runoff drains feeding into it. Unless there was a storm they were pretty empty. I used to see how far I could crawl into them before I lost my nerve.
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