I was born on June 13, 1931, in Washington, DC, to parents who had immigrated from Russia shortly after World War I. My home was downtown Washington, a small apartment above my parents' grocery store on First and Seaton Street. During my childhood, Washington was a segregated city, and I lived in the midst of a poor Black neighborhood. Life on the streets was often dangerous. Reading indoors was my refuge, and twice a week I made the perilous bike ride to the central library at Seventh and K Street to replenish my supply. Irvin Yalom is a gifted and lyrical writer whose memoir traces his life from the apartment above his parents' grocery store to the world stage, exploring the intimacy of his consulting room. The memoir includes his self-analysis and is interwoven with vignettes of patients whose stories have played a central role in his life.