CHESTER, Pa. -- I can see it clearly: the American-literature textbook from my sophomore year in high school, complete with faded red cover, frayed spine and a list of students who had rifled through its pages in years past. In it I discovered a kindred spirit, soul mate and best friend. His name was Henry David Thoreau, and he died 150 years ago May 6, at the age of 44.
I remember his first words to me:
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."