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I grew up with Houdini. No, that's not the name of my dog, though she's quite the escape artist. I mean the master magician who died in 1926.

Let's clarify: I'm 23, and my dad, Arthur Moses, has one of the world's largest collections of Harry Houdini memorabilia.

The collection (some would say an addiction) contains more than 1,500 books in 11 languages and Braille; 1,200 magazines; and countless photos, autographs, posters, handcuffs, pamphlets and personal belongings.

And while I'm used to it, having a straitjacket Houdini performed in and a 7-foot poster of Houdini's face in your house makes for some unusual experiences.

David Copperfield spent two hours in our house one evening after a show in town. He prefers Dr Pepper to Coke.

Houdini got me a vacation to England after my dad was asked to give a lecture there. My mom said if my dad was going overseas, the whole family was going, too.

I've awakened to a TV news crew in the house at 6 a.m. — twice. Those mornings, I didn't get to go downstairs in my pajamas for my chocolate chip mini muffins.

In the second grade, I brought — OK, my parents brought — Houdini's straitjacket to show-and-tell. I didn't do it to be showy; we were reading Robert Kraske's book "Harry Houdini: Master of Magic.”

And in middle school, I was levitated three feet off the ground by renowned Houston magician Walter "Zaney” Blaney at a family function. Of course, Blaney was there thanks to my dad's connections.

In my family's previous house, the 7-foot restored A-frame of Houdini sat in our dining room. The painting style is one where the object's eyes seem to follow people around the room. In short, when we entertained family and friends in the formal room, you had a strange sense you were being watched.

There are, by the way, only two such advertising sidewalk stands of Houdini left. The other is in Copperfield's collection in Las Vegas.

Among some of the other more unusual items are the monogrammed pocket from the pajamas Houdini was wearing when he died (who thought to cut the pocket off?) and his large wooden traveling trunk that held personal belongings on his oceanic crossings (amazing it's still intact).

Many a time, I've been an unpaid "security guard” to protect it all. Whether it was a group of Boy Scouts coming through the "Houdini room” for a tour or a group of magicians after barbecue and a meeting in our garage, it fell to my mom, Linda, and my brother, Brian, and I to make sure no one tried to pull a disappearing act with any of the items.

To me, the tours are routine. My dad, who helps run a family-owned glass and mirror business in Fort Worth, Texas, where my parents still live, tells everyone the same highlights.

Young Erik Weisz, born in 1874, became one of the most well-known performers of his day. Weisz, who adopted Harry Houdini as his stage name, entertained and amazed thousands at every performance as he walked through a brick wall or just showed his skill at simple card tricks.

One of his greatest claims to fame wasn't even a set trick. Houdini challenged the public to devise a way to really restrain him, but whether his audience tied him in ropes, bound him in chains, sealed him in a box, wrapped him tightly in wet sheets or locked him in a safe, he never failed to escape.

He was a master of his trade. But there's more to the life of Harry Houdini than his stage career.

Houdini believed there was a way to connect with the dead. He believed there was some way for him to talk to his deceased mother, Cecilia, who had died in 1913.

But he knew spiritualism, which many people believed in during the early 20th century, wasn't the way to "connect” to the other side.

Houdini understood that spirit mediums misled and defrauded their hopeful followers. And so, Houdini became both a sleuth and a scholar in his efforts to debunk their claims.

He went undercover and shined a flashlight during dark seances. He exposed that it was a partner cloaked by the room's darkness making objects "float” across a room, or that it was a medium sounding a trumpet or bell creating "mysterious” noises. He also put together a series of slides and gave lectures across the country to further make his point.

And now, Houdini speaks out — through my father's voice. My father has written a book called exactly that, "Houdini Speaks Out,” which talks about Houdini's other obsession and re-creates images from Houdini's glass lantern slides, also in my father's collection.

As usual, the book became somewhat of a family affair. My mom scanned and prepared all the images printed in the book; I read and edited it — twice; and my brother made it into the dedication for inspiring my dad.

More information about the print-on-demand book is available at www.houdinispeaksout.com.

I remember growing up wondering why I had to have the dad with the weird hobby. At some point, I became indifferent to its magnitude. And now I have an appreciation for the work and passion my dad has put into his collection.

It does take some of the sparkle out of magic shows. How to get out of Scotland Yard? I know. How to make an elephant disappear? I know. How to saw a lady in half? I know. How to escape from Houdini's famous water torture cell? I know.

But, unwittingly, I took the magician's oath of secrecy. So I guess you'll never know.