After WWII, my widowed mother, brother, and I were displaced persons in Germany. An International Church organization sponsored us to sail to the United States of America. We wore D.P. (Displaced Person) tags around our necks. After registering at Ellis Island we went to live in New York City, a new culture, a new language.
I was in a creative writing class in high school, and my teacher, Mr. Pugh, encouraged me to be a writer. Writing was easy for me because I was a good day dreamer. After high school I went to college to be a writer. But Uncle Sam drafted me during the Vietnam War, so I enlisted before my draft date. Receiving an Honorable Medical Discharge, I had to go home and see my mother. Afterwards, I left all of my military belongings at home, and went on a spiritual journey to make peace within myself, and find the truth to questions in my life that would fill the emptiness inside of me. Yes, my body was alive but my spirit was dead inside of me.
I’ve been in treatment for post-traumatic-disorder. And I promised my mother on her death bed that I would make it. So, through bouts with flashbacks, blackouts, panic attacks, nightmares, I started to try and write again, it took me about 10 years to write Dream-Face-Masque. I think I used about half of the rain forest to write it because of all the mistakes I made. Finally, I won an Eli Lily (pharmaceutical company based in Indianapolis) writing contest and won some money and 15 copies of my writing. At first, I thought I was dreaming, and I slapped my face to make sure I was awake when they told me. Well, I am trying be a writer again and hopefully become financially independent to live my life again.