I met Joe Biden in the early 1960s. He was 19. I was 14. I was raised in a poor, poor Black family. At home, I had no food at the table sometimes. In those days especially, most folks were afraid to come to a neighborhood like mine. But Joe was not. He was a lifeguard at my swimming pool. I remember him smiling as he walked in. Joe was only one of three or four white teenagers who would come hang out on this side of the tracks. We’d play basketball...