Moving from the Meadowdale development, a Levittown inhabited primarily by the families of veterans, in unincorporated Kane County to Park Ridge, a middle- to upper middle-class suburb on Chicago's northwest side, required an adjustment which spanned years. I was ten, a fifth-grader unaware of race and class issues until becoming exposed to the status consciousness on rampant racism of this new community. I hadn't even heard the word "fuck" before moving. I heard it a lot from these cruel children of respectable Republican, Protestant families. I hadn't ever been in a mean fight. The first day on the playground at Washington Elementary I had to fight a complete stranger within a circle of jeering grade schoolers. I hated it and I, formally a pretty social kid, withdrew into solitary activities.
Chief among these activities was reading. My parents and parernal grandparents had libraries. Dad read a lot. Not having had a television during much of my childhood, I'd developed the habit.
The Cold War and the space programs of the USA and USSR being much in the news, I was very much into reading about technology and science, particularly aerospace and astronomy. This led to an early interest in science fiction, much of which in those days was oriented toward the physical sciences.
I'd started with Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, then moved into Arthur C. Clarke and Isaac Asimov. The first anthologist I remember having read, other than Asimov, was Judith Merril, whose annuals went beyond hard-science sf stories to include essays, art and even literature. I was impressed and sought her out.
While I don't recall much detail of the hundreds of sf anthologies I read in later decades, I recall quite a lot about some of Merril's collections from the sixties, so great was the impression they made upon me.