My momma never told me I didn’t have a name. In fact she didn’t know. But I didn’t have a name until I was 66 years old. Young people be warned. The Social Security people will not give you a dime without a valid birth certificate.

Dr. McMillan delivered me at home on February 4, 1941. I’m sure he meant well, but he forgot to put my name on my birth certificate. He delivered thousands of babies over the decades, probably more than 25,000 Native American, white, and black babies. Most of us were born at home. We couldn't afford a hospital. But if we had been born in a hospital, I would have had a name, I’m sure.

it didn’t matter to most people. My elementary and high school, as well as Hercules Powder Co., the University of Richmond, the Richmond Times-Dispatch, U.S. Air Force, UC Berkeley, Stanford, Cal State Hayward, Bacone College, and several dozen other employers paid it no attention. The Federal Bureau of Investigation even gave me a top secret clearance for the Air Force.

But when I applied for my Social Security retirement money in 1966