My first up-close encounter with a snake:

When I was about 10, I had found a huge tortoise in our yard. I was going to try to keep him as a pet, but he got away when I wasn't looking. Thinking it might have gotten into the tall grass near a neighbor's property, I started poking around in the tall grass. As I was walking along, I happened to look down beneath my feet and saw a huge black snake looking up at me. I sprinted back inside, not knowing what kind it was, and got my mom. We barely caught a glimpse of it as it slithered away from us toward the neighbor's property. From what little I remember about it, it was probably a black racer, but at the time, I had no idea: it was a snake, and snakes bite people.

I have a strong feeling this is how my ophidiophobia developed.

Growing up in a rural area, we encountered all sorts of snakes on occasion - rattlers, moccasins, corns, rats (what we called "oaks"). For a long time, I couldn't even be near "safe" snakes like pythons or boas, even when handlers assured me they wouldn't harm me.

But thanks to conservationists like the late Steve Erwin, I harbored a secret fascination for the animals. When I lived in St. Louis, I frequently visited the reptile house at the zoo. But it took having to catch a score of garter snakes that had invaded my yard a few years ago that I began to overcome my terrors and learn to love these animals.