In a previous post, I mentioned how the neighborhood I lived in while growing up shaped my understanding of animals and other people.  One of these neighbors was the elderly Polish man who fed pigeons.  He demonstrated kindness and respect for the pigeons and scolded me for frightening them with my childish play of chasing the birds.  Also living down the street was a rough-looking, younger man who I knew by the name of Boo.  It’s possible this was a nickname.  Boo was more of a temporary dweller on our street and wasn’t around long enough for me to ask more questions about the origin of his name.  While my mother never showed concern about time spent with the elderly pigeon man, there was a silent understanding that none of us kids should be hanging around with Boo. This made him even more interesting. Boo lived in a house that was boarded up, almost directly across the street from the man who cared for the pigeons.  When I say ‘boarded up’ I mean exactly that. There were wood panels on the two main front windows and over the two tiny windows that led to…