To gain perspective on my beginnings, I am forced to rely on the memories of those that were around me and those that knew of my situation. Not all of this can be one-hundred percent confirmed because of this. That said, let’s get to know my biological mother, “Mary”, first.
Mary was raised in a strict, traditional Christian family in Georgia, USA. Her father was in the Air Force and they traveled often. Due to his job, Mary was neglected by her father. Needing extra attention made her somewhat of a trouble child for her mother.
In her teenage years, Mary really liked to have fun. Drugs, sex and rock ‘n’ roll, to generalize it. She ended up pregnant shortly after high school. Her daughter was beautiful and easy to care for. This allowed Mary the time to continue having fun. She eventually would meet “John”, my father, while out looking for a “score”.
John is a bit of a mystery to me. Much of his past is unknown; as is his current whereabouts. I do know this: He was balding, loved to laugh, and had one hand missing. In its place, a metal claw.
To this day, I have but 2 pictures of the man. One is a mugshot. The other is with my sister and I, on his lap. He was not a constant in my life and to this day, I have almost no memory of him.
Mary claims she loved John very much. They enjoyed an off and on again relationship for a while.
She had me on an early Saturday morning, at a hospital in Warner Robins, GA. It was March, 1986. She did NOT want a second child and John would be out of the picture shortly thereafter.
This would all set the general mood of my infant years.