When I was ten years old, I experienced something that would stay with me my entire life. I don’t recall how it happened, but I managed to find To Kill a Mockingbird. At the time I was interested in the story as I thought it would help me understand my father’s upbringing. He was born in southern Georgia in 1924. For much of my life, I lived a stone’s throw from the Mason Dixon line. It didn’t provide me with the environment and history that he would have encountered in his youth. It felt foreign to me and I thought for certain that this book would provide me with the background that I was seeking.

Now, as an adult, I realize the content might have been an eye opener for someone whose life experience was only a decade in the making. I remember there were subjects and terms that went over my head. At those times, I would turn to my father for an explanation. Once I remember asking him what a “war” lady was. As my father had a hearing impairment, he looked at me quizzically and asked me to repeat the question. I asked again what a war lady was. When my pronunciation wasn’t getting the job done, he finally asked me to spell it. W-H-O-R-E. At that point there was a clear understanding and I was given a clear explanation. Other questions I posed might have shown my lack of knowledge but this one proved my innocence. Now, with a slight grin on my face, I realize that time has replaced the embarrassment with humor.

Although To Kill a Mockingbird was published over 60 years ago, it has remained a mainstay in my life. It was not a coincidence that I had a pair of cats named Scout and Atticus. Scout is the only one who remains and she is often thought to be male due to her name. Calling her Jean Louise would not have felt right. When I recently saw that Richard Thomas was in the current stage production and would be performing at the Kennedy Center, I knew I had to be there. Admittedly, there was a teenage girl’s voice in my head saying how exciting it would be to see John Boy in person. Aware that his role in the Waltons was relegated to history and my crush had long since faded there was still every reason to want to see him. He has a reputation for being a fine theater actor and I relished the idea that the portrayal of my childhood hero was entrusted to him.

I was enthralled by the production. I didn’t need a reminder why the book has always been so special to me. I have long acknowledged the importance of respect and human dignity. I believe it fueled the professional success I have had working out in the community all these years.  Atticus exemplified living the golden rule. He was a role model to his children but was challenged by his neighbors when doing the right thing. It comes down to truth and the struggle between good and evil. As the show was coming to an end I found tears in my eyes. I didn’t look to see if others were moved in the same way. Could it be the enormity of the subject matter struck a nerve, the same as it did when I was child? Maybe it was the simple fact that I could only spend a finite amount of time stepping back into the past and into the embodiment of one of my favorite stories.

I left the theater with a ticket stub, a program and a vivid memory. I had adhered to the rules and didn’t even try to sneak a picture. There was no last-minute grab for a souvenir at the stand. I was content, actually, more than content. It was a bit of an epiphany. Upon the end of the production, I walked out with an experience and I didn’t want anything more.  This revelation won’t leave me, much as the impact of reading To Kill a Mockingbird all those years ago. The words printed on the pages of the book are tangible but its effect is where the importance lies. Tom Robinson was unjustly found guilty, Boo Radley had come out, and I will continue to climb into someone’s skin and walk around in it to try to understand their perspective.