The Runaway Files

By Tennessee Nate

A autobiography of the hippy years from 1972 to 1985.The drugs,and soberity.Sexy,and laughable.
The story of a mans quest to find himself and God.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 14, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479728343

Tennessee Nate

He likes writing, camping, working on Mercedes Benzs, and travel. Nathan travelled 43 States so far, during the years he was on the road. He been married 27 years two daughters, and two special grandsons he raised. The work experience so far, has been a machinist, commercial fisherman, mechanic, and Supervisor. He is now disabled do too depression, and arthritis

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Copyright © 2012 by Tennessee Nate.

Library of Congress Control Number:         2012918546

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Contents

Preface

The Train

Book 10

Book 11

Book 12

Stockton

Tropic of Cancer

Book 3

Book 4

Book 5

Book 6

Book 7

Book 8

Book 9

Book 10

Book 11

Book 12

Book 13

Book 14

Book 15

Book 16

Book 17

Book 18

Book 19

Book 20

You Never Stop Running

The Runaway Files 2

Untitled 2

Preface

This book was written to excite the imagination of the readers. These stories really happened. They resemble Tom Sawyer in modern daytimes. So if you like to travel, and excitement, this book is for you.

Note to young people: Just because I did doesn’t mean you have to; most of my friends are gone from this earth.

This book might make you laugh and might make you cry. If you read to the end, you will find everything turns okay and good.

The Train

Book 10

My whole story begins at birth in Stuttgart, Germany. My biological mother is German. My biological father is a biracial. My mother had rheumatoid arthritis when she already had my sister Gwen. I think after each baby, her rheumatoid arthritis (RA) just go worse. My mother’s name was Hedi, my father is Nathan. They meet while my dad was in the United States Army. They married in Germany, but later the military court said it was not legal, so they were married again on the base. So first Gwen and then me, Troy, and Hedi; we were born in the United States.

It was hard on military pay until later he became a sergeant, so my father’s brother by blood, my uncle, and his wife offered to help me. I was in the terrible twos. They were on the way to Texas to see my aunt’s mother who helped and sewed clothes for me. All the family in Texas loved me. When vacation was over, we drove to my new home in Richmond, California. My biological Parents lived in Los Angeles. My aunt Besie Mae and my uncle Robert B. Rector nurtured me. Before long I called them both Mom and Dad. Everything went well for us.

Then my father Nate SR decided to reunite me with my brothers and sister. I can’t remember what age this was. But I remember him carry me away. The family needed more welfare from me being there. I kicked and bawled and took it out on bullies that made life at school rough for my brother and sisters. So I got paddled a lot.

So after a year, Mom and Dad came to get me, but deep down, I love my family in Southern California. Mom and Dad had bought a new home in Richmond, El Cerrito, border. I loved my new life and soon forgot about my family.

Then my father refused to sign adoption papers. My Mom was accepting all of this and it messed with her nerves that she lost the baby.

Finally I was old enough to tell the judge where I wanted live. I was finally adopted. But as I grew into a rebel, my mom hounded me with the baby’s death, and it made me feel depressed.

Then I started breaking away.

Book 11

In the tenth grade, I and my friend Jim Tucker decided to run away from home. We were headed to Mexico. We would jump a train and ride to the border and cross over into Mexico. As it always started, my mother was hard on me. She constantly blamed me for her sons’ death, little Timothy. She would compare me to my natural father who was a bum.

Also the kids at school would make fun of me, but Jim Tucker did not. We hatched a plan to run away.

The story was long ago; I don’t remember much. But anytime I smell a diesel, I remember when we rode a train.

Somehow we got on a train. It was dark when we did this; it was after school. It was a piggyback train, that is, it had trailers from truck on it, and most were cooled by a small diesel engine.

It was in the fall of the year cause it got cold that night. We huddled to the small motor and was warmed by the exhaust. We didn’t sleep that night. We shook and froze all night. When sunlight came up, we could see our train was a mile long and had four engines pulling. Jim said all the people were in the first engine. So carefully we hopped one car to the next, about fifteen cars to the engine. We made it to the car, and it was warm. There were some days that we had old doughnuts and instant coffee. We helped ourselves.

As best as we could tell, we were just out of Santa Barbara. We could see Mexicans in the fields working. We waved, they waived back at us.

In a few hours, we arrived at Pasadena. Someone saw us and asked us to get off the train. We got off the other side and ran.

We walked the streets of Pasadena, and with my map, we would walk to Interstate Five and start hitchhiking to La Jolla and Tijuana.

Our walk must have been a long time as it was lunch. We had no money, so we hope strangers would help us.

Where we were, East Los Angeles, was not a good place to be at night, with gangland shootings. We finally got a ride and made it to Orange County. The man who gave us the ride gave us five dollars. We went to a store and bought bologna and bread and two cokes.

We made sandwiches and ate everything up. We started back up in the interstate ramp to where the sign was posted. There were no people behind this sign.

We stood there a long time with no rides. Finally Jim said let’s go up where people on the freeway could see us. I told him the cops would get us, but he was hardheaded.

PEDESTRIANS

BICYCLES

MOTOR-DRIVEN

CYCLES

PROHIBITED

Book 12

Book 1 of 2

The cars were going so fast they could not slow down. I told Jim Tucker let’s get back to the sign. Before we knew it, California Highway Patrol pulled up. We said we’d get back to the sign. He asked us all kind of questions—about our age, which we said we were eighteen. We heard him on the radio saying he