November 17th, 2008
Okay, check this out. I realize that for my stories to appeal to you the reader, you need to know a little about me. This will you give you more insight as to where these stories come from. Like I said, as of now they will come in no particular chronological order, just from which ones I feel like sharing on any particular day. So with that in mind I will give you a quick overview of my life, the stories will then fill in the blanks. Does that sound reasonable to you? Alrighty then…..AWAY WE GO!
I was born in the great state of Arkansas. I lived way out in the boonies where there was a church every couple of miles and a preacher behind every tree. My dad, was one of those Baptist types of preachers and my mom was a PK(preachers kid) herself. For about the first 5 years of my life we moved around a lot, from church to church, and wherever we went we brought our mobile home with us. My dad would get a new pastor gig, and we would just park our trailer in a clear spot somewhere near the church, and that would be home. We wouldn’t even take the wheels off.(RED_NECK) When I was 2 my younger sister was born legally blind. Then after my kindergarten year, my dad decided to start a Mission in Frankfort,KY. Close to where my mothers parents lived in Lexington. They actually set us up with a house so we left the trailer in Ark. And I think its still there in the same spot.
Kentucky was cool. We lived right outside of town, and the church was actually held in our basement. How weird, but that was life. I was always an athlete, and I played all sports. I had good friends. I was an excellent student. I was in gifted programs. I had now a new baby sister, and life was good. Until….. My dad decided that he needed to preach the gospel to them “poor heathen Mexicans”. This was in the 70’s and my dad wasn’t too bright about the world, coming from the small country world he was from. So, off to the barrios of El Paso, Tx. we went right when I was to start 5th grade.
El Paso was a culture shock to say the least. I was pretty much the only white boy in the hood, and I was a PK. Which meant I got beat up A LOT. The way my dad was programmed, I was not allowed to run, so a fighter I became (tons of stories). I still played all sports, but had a hard time with getting much playing time due to the fact that I didn’t speak Spanish like my coaches and team-mates. Even though I mostly attended Christian schools, I started spending a lot of time on the streets and the lifestyle fascinated me. By the time I was 16, I was running the streets, had moved out, and had been jumped in to a neighborhood gang. I lived in a detached garage behind a HUGE family of illegal aliens during my junior and senior years of high school. But, I still finished H.S. with a 3.7 GPA, living on my own and working nights. Eventually, due to violence that seemed to follow me, my parents asked me to get out of town before I or one of my family members got really hurt or dead. And this is exactly where I will pick up at my next posting……….C-YA!