My story is a little like those old Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland movies, when they were kids. In 1964, when we were 12 or 13, four of my neighborhood buddies and I said, "Let's start a band." We all picked an instrument and I got bass. My non-musician dad bought me a white bass from a pawn shop (Kent, I think). It was terrible and had serious neck and intonation problems. Dad got mad, returned it, and bought me a great 3-color Fender P-bass from a music store. I wish I still had that bass.
We played our own private parties and started playing school dances. Guys from other schools invited me to play with them, 'cause they didn't have a bass player. Our drummer's father owned a closed pharmacy building. One summer we cleaned it out and opened a hamburger & soda fountain shop. We made a stage out of the raised pharmacist area and played there on Fri & Sat nights.
I'm one of the few bassists I know that started on bass instead of another instrument (mostly guitar). I find that I think in bass now.
Leni