When my mother took me away from my father's house, we were wearing thick winter coats and had a little money in our pockets. The neighbors said that we and I had "cleaned up and left the house." On the morning of my eighteenth birthday, when I jumped out of the window and climbed over the wall to escape from home, I was barefoot, with only two small pieces of underwear to cover my shame, and penniless. It was definitely called "streaking"!