The True Story of a Wife of a Presidential Bodyguard

By Harsel Lopez

My Story, My Life: My Share of Love and Sacrifice

This book is the product of my lifes ups and downs and moments of tragedywhat I called the four seasons of my life.
Reading it will take you to the dimensions where you can cry, hope, and imagine lifes bittersweet memories. Most of all, this aims to inspire you and believe that at the end of the tunnel, youll see the rainbow shines brightly and the storm subsides.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Aug 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491804193

Harsel Lopez

I was born in Springs, South Africa, on March 5, 1967. My father thought I was a boy, but I was a little baby girl. A pastor gave me my name, Harsel, and he told my mother I would shine like the sun. Little did anybody know that I would be part of so many tragedies.

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© 2013 by Harsel Lopez. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/13/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4918-0418-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-0419-3 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Disclaimer: Names and places have been changed for the security of all the characters involved.

Contents

Dedication

The Hijacking

Revenge and the Power Game

DEDICATION

I poured my heart and soul in every letter I stroke. I know that there are so many mysterious ways that words can only express.

In every step of my path, I would like to thank some people who taught me to be persistent and decisive, so I grab a pen and started to pull myself together, reviving episodes of my life, writing about the things I prefer to forget.

Special mention to… J.A. For his inspiration and persistence and sometimes comfort when tears in my eyes don’t let me write. He is an outstanding wonderful, caring person who will walk a mile to be there for me. I am most grateful to have him in my life.

Eugene Libres and Valerie Raines from Author House UK for their motivation, positive and fast tracking attitudes. For planning with me the cover of the book and sharing their ideas with me to make this book complete.

I would like to share with you my hopes, sorrows and dreams. It was not easy to express.

To the readers, thank you for having a copy of my unbelievable, true story. Enjoy reading!

Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom—let your email find you!

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I was born in Springs, South Africa, on March 5, 1967. My father thought I was a boy, but I was a little baby girl. A pastor gave me my name, Harsel, and he told my mother I would shine like the sun. Little did anybody know that I would be part of so many tragedies?

I grew up on farms. After I finished school, I moved to a big city. I was in the army and started my career as an interior decorator and in marketing. I met my husband, and we had two sons and a daughter.

There is one incident in my life I will never forget. We stayed on a dairy farm, and I had a brother older than me and one younger brother and a sister. We loved to play everywhere around the farm, especially at the waterhole where the cows drank. The dam was not an ordinary dam. It was an oblong cement dam. Next to the dam was the building where the cows were milked. We loved the dam because of the little fish that were swimming in it.

On a warm winter morning, I was wearing my blue jeans pants and jacket, and Ryan was in warm clothes. The age difference between us was two years. He was seven, and I was five. We were in the mood for catching some fish. We got up early and ran to the dam. A thick piece of wood stretched from one side to the other. It was wide, and we had walked across that wood before without any problems.

That morning, I decided that I wanted to cross the dam and go to the other side. I grew up and never feared anything. I had long blonde hair. My brother was standing on the side of the dam. The water was green and dirty, and the fish were all over on the top of the water. It was so cute. As I was crossing over, the wood turned over, and I slipped into the water. I was going down and swallowing so much water. My eyes were open, and I could see the green and black dirt all over.

Ryan could swim, but I was only five and could not swim yet.

He shouted, Lift your hands in the air. I can’t see you. Kick!

I kicked and felt myself moving up. He pulled me by my hair onto the side of the wall. I cried and ran home.

At home, the lady who worked in our house helped me and comforted me. My brother was right behind me. We never returned to the dam that day. Early the next morning, Ryan went out. I went to see if I could find him, but he was not around.

Our younger brother ran in and said, Come look!

My grandma and niece and I ran behind him to the dam.

Granny asked him what was there.

He said, Ryan is in the water.

Six men were already looking for my brother in the dam, but they could not find him.

Ryan was gone. My niece Elisah jumped in. She was a very good swimmer and found him at the bottom. She brought him up to the side of the dam.

Grandmother did mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, and water came out of his mouth. She fought for his life. She shouted, "Call the ambulance and