As the Crowe Flies: One Man’S Journey Using His Disadvantages to His Advantage

By Kevin Crowe

This book is meant to inspire people, to teach a lesson of how perseverance, true grit, and persistence with the help of God can get them to the ultimate level of success. Kevin Crowe is a multitalented overachiever when you look at the life obstacles he has overcome. He is a native of Texas who moved to Colorado Springs at age three. He came from nothing; he was abandoned, unwanted, and unloved. He slept on floors as homeless people stayed at his house. He watched adults who were meant to guide and protect him do drugs, and, much worse, he watched his grandfather stab a man to death. Never did he think he would find himself in the same position as the man who lay on the ground later on in his adult life.

Kevin became homeless at age fourteen due to his grandmothers overdosing on heroin and cocaine. Kevin is a rare statistic; he is one of the few people who beat the system. He was never put into a foster home, because he would run; he slept on streets and in Laundromats instead. He forged his way into high school at age seventeen.

He was never in a stable environment until he was nineteen and was blessed to be asked to join the Thompson family. He graduated high school and graduated college from Kansas State University.

Kevins story is meant to let all know they can beat the odds; their situations do not limit their potential. Kevin is a prime example of great things from humble beginnings.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491872062

Kevin Crowe

Kevin is a proud alumnus of Kansas State University. He currently works at the school Scholars to Leaders Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado, serving at-risk children like himself. Kevin volunteers at Life Networks’ annual fundraiser for the Walk of Life, which raises awareness of abortion and teen pregnancies. He also volunteers once a month in the church nursery. Kevin is a very outgoing, inspirational person. He tries to make everyone see the good in himself or herself and gives everyone he cares about, especially his students, tough love. He loves his role at his school because of how he relates to the kids he works with. He offers additional knowledge and the foundation that kids need. Kevin is a family man; he always puts others before himself. He looks forward to the weekly family get-togethers at the Thompsons’, his home. Kevin’s vibrant personality uplifts those around him. He also has a side he shows only to God. When Kevin listens to music, you know he is having his time with the Lord. He deals with the unknowns on his life journey by his connection and relationship with Jesus. He would not be where he is in life if it were not for the blessings of the Lord and his own determination. He tries to share his relationship with God. He shares God’s word and walks the path God sets in front of him. This book is just another stepping stone in the path God has for him.

Book preview

AS THE

CROWE FLIES

One Man’s Journey Using His Disadvantages to His Advantage

KEVIN CROWE

43722.png

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2014 Kevin Crowe. 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.

Photography by Molly Thompson

Published by AuthorHouse 03/20/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-7204-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-7205-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-7206-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014904661

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.

CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1   Life Without A Beginning

Chapter 2   My Ability To Learn Comes With A Price

Chapter 3   When Wine Causes Loved Ones Misery

Chapter 4   If Only Darkness Would Take Me Away

Chapter 5   Living Life Like An Animal

Chapter 6   Selfishness

Chapter 7   Being Bad But For All The Right Reasons

Chapter 8   Graduation Takeaway

Chapter 9   A Will To A Way

Chapter 10   A Key To Humility

Chapter 11   Measuring Life By The Meters

Chapter 12   Facing My Fears

Chapter 13   Rest In Peace To My Blind Side

Chapter 14   Mistaken Blessings

Chapter 15   10-24-10

Chapter 16   Finally Calling 1303 Home

Chapter 17   Let The Truth Be Told

Chapter 18   Fighting The Demons Within Me

Chapter 19   Painful Reality

Chapter 20   Words Of Joy

Chapter 21   You Are Not Alone

I would like to thank God for seeing me through my hardships.

and for always giving me unconditionally love.

Thank you to my brother Matt, for helping me find a place to call HOME

Thank you to my Grandma and the Thompsons’ for helping me along the way.

This book is dedicated to:

Kids that are in my situation,

My son Kevin Wayne Crowe Jr.

I love you.

INTRODUCTION

T O ANYONE WHO picks up this book, whether if it is to read a chapter or all the way through; I encourage you to share it with others, and read every word. You don’t know everyone’s background; someone you know might need to hear what is said in this book. You may be able to help touch someone’s life just by suggesting this book!

As I sat in front of 724 N. Bennett Avenue, I couldn’t help but blow a kiss to the good Lord above and let the tears roll down my face. I was shell-shocked. I looked into the window of which I had always stared out, and within a split second, I felt my horrible memories come back. Looking through that window made me think about the purpose behind this book. Why would anyone want to take the time to read my book? It’s not like I’m a famous athlete or a powerful politician. I’m just an average person who knows that his story, his life journey, could potentially inspire others to make a change, no matter the circumstances. This is when I discovered the resiliency that I held within myself.

When writing this autobiography, I wrote and rewrote the first three chapters; trying to make sure it fit my personality and explained who I am and how I got to where I am today. I was never satisfied with the opening, and until now, I didn’t feel that it could begin to express who I am.

When I was a little kid, my best thoughts always came to mind when I would walk for miles, listening to music or just singing. I would walk to the dumpsters and churches where I used to get food from, to all the places I used to bounce around because I never had a place to call home. These were the places that I would lay my head, even if just for a few hours. From there, I would walk to the creek and think about how I survived the life I was blessed to call mine. As I was growing up, people, including some of my teachers, had always told me that I should have dropped out of school and just sold drugs, that I was going to be just another number in the penal system, or that I was going to be another brother found dead on the streets. Even the woman who gave birth to me thought I was never going to amount to anything. Thank you, doubters, for giving me that extra push. Just so you know, your words didn’t stop me; they lit a fire that no one could put out, and that fire pushed me to the ultimate level of success.

Writing this book was one of the biggest challenges of my life, but with my type of attitude and upbringing, obstacles were everyday challenges to overcome. I was never in an orphanage, foster home, or even in a boys’ home. You could call me a street rat. I have never legally belonged to anyone, so what proof do I really have to support my experiences? I never had a caseworker. My name might have been in a file cabinet, locked away somewhere, but it probably offered only my name and no other information about myself.

When I took on the challenge of writing this book, I took a journey down memory lane. I contacted the schools that I had attended and asked for any personal documents of mine they had. All I received were my report cards and progress reports telling me my grades, how many days I was absent or tardy, who my guardian was at the time, and all of the many addresses where I had stayed. I did the math, and on average I missed twenty-one days out of each core class every year, kindergarten through eighth grade. It may sound bad, but from my point of view, it isn’t that bad. If people take into consideration what I was dealing with in my home life, the number of days missed is actually low. The people who looked after me never had legal custody of me; all the government assistance that they would somehow receive was the only stable income. They would receive, Aid to Families with Dependent Children (AFDC); Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF), Supplementary Security Income (SSI), and (WIC) also known for Women Infant and Children. Every three months they would have to resubmit paperwork to be approved yet again. When you’re that poor, it seems like you can find ways of cheating and beating government assistance.

There is no proof of who I am.

Now I am twenty-nine years old, and I don’t even know where I came from. I don’t know exactly where my mom is; the last time I heard from her, she was in Texas. I don’t know who my dad is. My life is a big mystery that I haven’t solved. It took me a while to come to terms with the fact that I am an orphan. I was abandoned and unwanted.

Now, back to my original question: Why did I write this book? One thing is for sure: it wasn’t because I wanted to visit my past for the memories to resurface. It wasn’t for recognition, fame, or fortune. Back in the day, I was just a lonely little boy. I was someone who didn’t have anyone to talk to—someone who never had the chance to express how he really felt; no one took the time to listen to me. I used to be a little boy, abandoned and confused. Now I’m a man with a voice, and my desire is to give other people like myself a voice.

If I could just help one person out of their situation with my life story, writing this book will have been worth it. My goal is to reach thousands, possibly millions, but if I could just touch one person’s life, I will consider all my work valuable. I personally know what it feels like to be an orphan, but until hearing that I was an orphan in church one day, I hadn’t come to understand my identity as an orphan who was abandoned by both my mother and father. After the sermon that day, I wanted to find out just how much being an orphan really affected children. This is when I came across the findings: There is an estimated 143,000,000 to 210,000,000 orphans across the world. Just to give you a better perspective on how many abandoned kids there are, it would take filling the Sports Authority Field at Mile High in Denver Colorado 1,878.5–2,758.6 times to hold all the orphans in the world. (This number is still growing day by day.) Think of all the kids who join the penal system or who go into sex trafficking because they didn’t have the guidance or protection of a father or mother. Parents do not realize how much they can damage a child’s future and development by not taking responsibility for their actions. The old saying goes: You pay for your raising. But what happens if you raised yourself while you parents went on freely with their lives? This problem is bigger than me; there are so many more children out there like me.

This book is purposed to inspire and give the people who don’t have a voice the opportunity to consider my life journey and turn it into a reason for them to turn their own lives around. It doesn’t matter what everyone else tells you to be. All that matters is the potential that you know you have to turn your life into what you want it to be. Your life is not measured by the efforts that other people put into you; it’s measured by what you put into yourself. People can tell you everything you want to hear—give you all the right advice to get you out of the situation that you are in. They can give you all the tools and guidance that you need, but your life situation will not improve until you accept the things you cannot change and put effort into yourself and into your future. At the end of the day your future depends on you!

It’s commendable how the Lord works in miraculous ways. God sent a vast blessing into my life. His name is Matt Thompson, and I’m proud to call him my brother! Coming to understand the resiliency that I hold within myself was hard. It took Matt saying, There are grown men who wouldn’t have the courage or strength to overcome the obstacles that you have overcome. And it’s true: there are many men out there who would not be able to cope with the struggles that I have overcome. When God molded me with His clay, He must have added an extra scoop of this or a dash of that because my resiliency wasn’t made overnight, and it wasn’t something that I built into myself. It’s something special that God gave me because he knew the road I would take would not be an easy one. With God providing the air beneath my wings to carry me throughout my journey, He gave me courage to face any challenge, strength to overcome any obstacle, and resiliency to face any adversity that was in my way.

With tears in my eyes, I raised my right hand to the Lord, looking into the window where my never ending life pain begun, I said, Thank you for being my ever-loving Father.

CHAPTER 1

44295.png

Life without a Beginning

44301.png

Red and blue are the two colors I will never forget. They often mean freedom, except in this very uncomfortable position in which I found myself.

44309.png

T HERE I WAS, three years old and alone, hot, scared, in a poopy diaper, riding in the back of a police car, knowing no one wanted me and feeling I belonged to no one. That is the earliest memory I have; I didn’t know who had looked after me from the time I was born until then.

Block after block, in and out of corner stores, hoping that the right customer would say, He’s mine. I crossed my fingers, hoping someone, anyone, would take me, no questions asked. Anything would be better than the situation I was in. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

Finally, with tears and snot running down my face, the officer found an unfortunate customer holding a baby and purchasing Raisin Bran cereal. I hate Raisin Bran or anything with raisins! The lady was not in my eyes a woman or a mom. She was selfish, caring only for herself and the baby she was holding. When the officer asked her if she was even concerned where I was, she replied, I figured he would find his way back. She didn’t even care where I was. She was not concerned for my well-being.

Before we go any further into my story, understand that some things will be unanswered because I have no answers to them. Selfish people in my life would not tell me where I came from or who I was. I have always been a quiet person and never told anyone how I felt. I will explain my memories of growing up. They will be out of order from time to time, but to understand my heart, you have to understand my pain.

Survival to me is not measured in inches but in centimeters. My life was never easy; to gain an inch, I had to successfully gain 2.54 centimeters. It was only then that my centimeters—my life journey, my survival—could turn into inches that would become feet. Be ready for a rocky road.

Being born in the great state of Texas was not so great. Things might be bigger in Texas, but that’s not always good. When I was three, I was left in the care of a family member; I did not know this person’s name, who he or she was to me, or if he or she even cared about my well-being. My life has always felt like a big charity case.

People always gave, but most of the time, what they gave wasn’t out of their hearts. I believe I must have been a nightmare. However, someway, somehow, I ended up somewhere dark, cold, and with no shoes.

The first time I saw snow was in Colorado Springs, Colorado where I live now, and where my story begins. No one will tell me how I got here; I don’t know if it was by bus, car, plane, or angel. Miracles happen every day; faith must travel in seconds, so I don’t question the good Lord about his plans.

Though I wonder how I got to the Rocky Mountain State, I know that faith in God and myself got me where I am today.

I remember crying and crying when all of a sudden a woman picked me up. That woman was my grandma, Dee Williams. That was the first time someone wrapped their arms around me. I never knew how it felt to be cold to the bones until New Year’s, 1988, when Colorado was hit by a dreadful snowstorm known as the white monster that dumped massive amounts of snow. I was terrified of the snow; it was the first time I had seen it. I cried and ran under the kitchen table.

My grandma sang me church songs to help ease my fear of the snow, but my grandpa, Charles Williams, loved to pick on me by dragging me out from under the table and pulling me outside so he could throw snowballs at me. He took me outside anytime he could and fired away. I tumbled to the ground in tears, but I learned crying got me nowhere with him.

My cousin Ci-Ci always took advantage of me. In this particular situation, while I was on the ground, she rubbed my face in the snow. I jumped up, ran back in the house, and pointed through the window at them.

I must have been about five when my grandma made me a Halloween Superman costume out of paper grocery bags. We were so poor that she had to use red food coloring to paint the bags. That entire Halloween night, people kept asking me who I was supposed to be. To make matters worse, it began to snow, so I found out what happens to paper products when they become acquainted with water—they fall off your body. I should have worn undies that day.

Christmas was just around the corner, but Santa never checked my list. My grandma made sure we knew Christmas was mainly about the birth of Christ, so that took away reminders of how poor we were.

I never had a Christmas; I never woke up to presents under a tree or a big meal. What made matters even worse was that my grandma’s birthday was around Christmas. Not once did she ever complain about having nothing; she was more concerned about giving to the Lord. Our Christmas was going to the Candlelight Vigil services.

I vaguely remember our black-and-white-painted house; people called my grandparents’ house the Little House on Bennett. If my grandma was not at church or playing bingo, she was tending her garden. She had all kinds of flowers—yellow daises, red tulips, and purple lilacs—but what brought her garden to life was the food she produced. Grandma loved her garden, but I felt otherwise. Her dream garden was my worst nightmare.

Ci-Ci and I picked and shucked corn and picked, washed, and split beans. We picked mustard and collard greens, washed them top to bottom, and cut them three inches from the bottom to the top.

One day, Ci-Ci and I started throwing our grandma’s cabbage and tomatoes when my uncle Donnie popped out of nowhere. A tomato hit him in the face. Uncle Donnie was my grandma’s youngest son; he was about to marry Trudy