Excerpts 

Why write this memoir?  

from the book's introduction, "Little Book of Horrors"

Why would I want to write about horrors? Let me explain. Over the years, I’ve realized that most people are enthralled with stories— horror stories. That doesn’t mean blood and guts, death and destruction, but stories that are unusual, amazing, unbelievable, and true. I never thought my life was particularly bizarre or horrible, but when I tell the stories of my life, people shake their heads, drop their jaws, and say, “That’s unbelievable! You should write a book!” 

I started asking why when I was a teen, observing the seemingly unfair life circumstances around me. I rode a city bus to a downtown Atlanta high school and observed the poverty, crime, and unhappiness on people’s faces every day. I felt the pain of violence and death when I witnessed two young men shot and killed in the streets outside my office window. . .

I wanted to learn about love and relationships, death and dying, crime and punishment, joy and peace. The more I asked about, the more varied and intense the experiences became.

What was the moment of my arrest like? 

from Chapter 1, "Arrest"

Loud knocking coming from the front door startled me, and I ran upstairs. As soon as I flung the door open, I was grabbed by the wrist and pulled roughly onto the front porch. The scene was so unreal before me that I could not comprehend the reality of it. Two black SUVs were parked out front, and six or seven FBI agents stood in full black gear with helmets, shields, and rifles drawn, aimed at me and my dogs. My five dogs were outside barking wildly, racing inside the fence line near the SUVs. The agents had all come in the front gate and left it open. I was scared that my dogs would escape and be hurt or killed on the road. I looked around panicking while one agent was slapping on handcuffs and attaching them to my waist with more cuffs on my ankles.

"It doesn't mean anything without family."  

Mom and Dad married in 1949 and stayed together their entire life. Having been raised in a big Catholic family of 3 boys and 3 girls, a large neighborhood of multiple families with children of every age, there was no down time.  

Our together times as a family were important. Dinner was at 6:00 pm sharp. Church was mandatory as were holiday gatherings. Huge meals at Thanksgiving and Christmas invoked laughter, games, fights, and tears. Family vacations to the Mobile Bay each year expanded our knowledge of all things fish and sand and helped us draw close through times of change and difficulty.

This family foundation influenced my sense of belonging and security. Being cut off from family was like losing an arm. Even though my siblings and parents could go months without much communication, they were still there and I knew it.