About the Author
A former draft horse teamster and cowboy, Hank Fox has been kicked, stepped on, knocked down, bitten, and bucked off by horses. (Fortunately, there were those other times when he got along with horses just fine, and even stayed in the saddle.) Growing up in Texas with a bunch of rodeo cowboys and rednecks, roping calves and quarter horses, his early blue collar work history included driving a dump truck and soda delivery truck, working as a framing carpenter, and work as a roofer and roofing company foreman. Later he served as a mule packer, ranch hand and wilderness horseback ride guide in California’s Sierra Nevada mountains. He drove hay wagons and sleighs professionally for 8 years, hitchhiked around the United States more than 26,000 miles, and even once hopped a ride on a freight train. Older now, he does a lot of his work indoors – but claims he can still saddle a horse and find his way in the wilderness, hitch up a team and get a wagon safely there and back, work cattle in the chute, hook up a two-horse trailer and tow it down the highway, and maybe even diamond-hitch a pack on a mule for a wilderness trip. Raised in a household with a Jehovah’s Witness father and a Southern Baptist mom, he started to have doubts about religion by the time he was 13. It took him 20 years to figure it all out, but he ended being a confirmed atheist, and later even an antitheist — which he describes as, “Not only do I not believe in supernatural superbeings, but I don’t think you should either.” A lifelong writer and journal-keeper, he started jotting down his thoughts and ideas on religion and atheism in private, later graduated to blogging, and eventually began to imagine writing a book on the subject. That book became “Red Neck, Blue Collar, Atheist: Simple Thoughts About Reason, Gods & Faith.” Today he lives on what was once a farm and egg ranch in Upstate New York, only a short walk from a clear stream, with red foxes, wild turkeys and deer for neighbors. He makes his living through writing and, still true to his blue collar roots, rather annoyingly menial work in a supermarket bakery.