About John

I'm not sure why I have a "Me" page anyway. Seems rather vain. I guess I created this page because you wanted to know more about Me so really, it's all about you. It's a "You" page so now it's not vain at all.

(unedited)

I was born a small black child... Well, not quite (and thank you Steve Martin).

I was born in a dormitory in a small town called Walla Walla Washington. Ok, so the dormitory was a hospital then but now it's a co-ed dorm. (I'm trying to make this more interesting for you).

I was born in Walla Walla Washington in November of 1965 to a young farm-hand and his even younger wife. I was their second child. The first child was my sister Julie, who later tried to kill me, but more about that soon. We lived near the rail-road tracks along the Snake River, 50 miles from town. Saying that we "lived near" the railroad tracks is a bit of a lie... we lived on the railroad tracks. Exactly four steps from the boarded up porch that was my bedroom was the Union Pacific rail line. When trains would pass the house would shake to it's foundation. I love trains and this must be why... I think they soaked into my brain. The area where we lived was amazingly beautiful in it's primal way. There were no houses, no trees, no roads, no lights, just dust, rocks, cliffs, the occasional rattlesnake, and a wide meandering river. Oh don't get me wrong, we had electricity, ruining water, and even a phone (on a party line that was shared by 6 or so neighbors who lived up to 20 miles from us). We even had one whole channel on our black and white t. v. (if you put tinfoil on the rabbit-ears and stood with your arms pointed north). We were a technologically connected family of four!

My Sister and I were very much loved. We were lucky. Our parents though in their teens were very good parents. We didn't go hungry, we didn't want for anything. We had wonderful Grandparents and even amazing Great Grandparents all of whom showered us with love and adoration. My parents now have become fantastic Grandparents to both of my sisters children. They now shower them with love as were were. It's a good village to live in.

When I was five my Mother divorced my Father. She never really fit the mold of the farm-hand's wife. Being rather cosmopolitan or in the least, a cosmopolitan-wannabe, she found the ranch by the river was far to confining for her. She left my dad for a friend of a friend named Al. They married when I was six. It was a difficult time for both my sister and I but like most kids, It didn't kill us, it only made us stronger. I also believe that it made us better people today. I guess I have to believe that. We loved our Stepfather and we eventually even called him dad. I do feel bad about that because of how it must have made my "real" father feel. I doubt he liked very much. Actually, my sister and I became quite good and saying "Al" when we were around my father and we would switch to calling him dad when we were around "Al". Divorces are hard on kids but, I honestly believe that sticking together "for the children" could be even more harmful. When my mother and my Stepfather should have ended their marriage years later and didn't, I believe Julie and I were harmed. Their fights were epic, loud, and abusive (mentally) toward one another. Perhaps, more on this topic later.

We lived in a world divided. Weekdays (school days) were spent "in town" meaning Walla Walla with my mom and step dad and every weekend, holiday, and summer vacation was spent on the ranch with my dad and stepmother. Oh, I forgot to mention that my father re-married. His new wife was Cheri and it was difficult at first. I think it was difficult because we were Judy's kids and she didn't really like having us there. Wait, stop! don't think even for a minute that I don't love her like I love my own biological mother because I do. I'm just saying that in the beginning, things were rough with our stepmother. To my seven year old brain they were even a little "wicked stepmother-ish" just like a Disney film. The thing here is, time passes, people mature, life happens and in the end, I love my stepmother! But in the beginning... I'm just saying. So back to "world divided"... it was difficult being "sent away" to the ranch every weekend, holiday etc. It was very difficult for both my sister and I to maintain any friendships over the many times that we were gone.

...more to come...