It was 1957. I was all of 12 years old, we were living in Ft. Worth, Texas, and we were out for a Sunday drive with some family friends. The driver noticed a house that was built in the form of a castle. So he stopped, out of curiosity, to get some background as to this architecture (he was, after all, a professor of history at TCU). Imagine our surprise when the homeowners came out brandishing lever-action rifles. They weren't interested in chatting. So, we left rather quickly. It was all very innocent and I don't think we deserved that kind of reception. This kind of ruined our Sunday. Yes, their home was literally "their castle." It didn't mean they had to be unsociable.