The Only Real Cure for Drug Addiction is God!

By Larry Singleton

Larry grew up in a small southern town called Minden, shielded from all life's negative influences by his mother and siblings. Growing up in a very Christian home, knowing God, he always longed for the big-city life. But was he ready for it? Was he ready to take on the challenges that came with big-city life? Marrying his high school sweetheart right after school, he dreamed of the glorious life they could have if only he could find a way for them to leave Minden behind. He wanted more out of life, for he knew that one day, with God's blessings, he would become a great man, husband, and father. When he was introduced to an idea about joining the Air Force, he quickly decided that was their ticket out of Minden and a chance to be that great man that he always dreamed of. Shortly after joining the Air Force, he began meeting men from all over. Although he wasn't street-smart and knew very little about what went on outside his little hometown, he was intrigued by their behavior and knowledge of worldly life. He sought to emulate them from their dress, talk, and often bad habits. He slowly began conforming to this world while setting aside all he was taught in church and his upbringing. Unknown to him, the devil began slowly gaining control of his thoughts, thus starting a spiritual warfare in his mind that would last for almost two decades. This spiritual warfare took him and his family through unimaginable times where no man wants to go. Big-city life was exciting, but without God, it came with a price.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781645441465

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

I grew up in the South during the fifties and sixties in a family that was financially poor but very wealthy in love and understanding. There was no father for me in the home, so I didn’t have the manly role model that boys need growing up. But what I did have was a loving, nurturing mother and siblings sharing their love as we ventured through childhood. God was a very important part of our lives. We went to church several nights a week and Sunday school and church on Sundays.

This is when God became an important part of my life, but it wasn’t until much later in life that I would truly understand the awesome power of God and how much he truly loved me.

I got married at eighteen years of age to my high school sweetheart after graduation. She had gotten pregnant during our senior year. Before we were married, being young and immature, I didn’t know what was best for me. Was I to marry and give the child a father or to pursue my career through a scholarship that I had earned from high school.

I didn’t think I could raise a family and go to school, so I ran. I went to visit my brother and aunt in Missouri. While there, I was influenced by my older brother, whom I admired greatly.

Seems like he had everything going for himself. He was flashy with the car and fine clothes and that street sense about himself. He was very masculine and well built. He also had the confidence and the ability to talk to any woman.

As I grew up poor, these were the things I admired. For you see, I was a very shy person.

It never dawned on me that his marriage had failed and all that he was came out of his early use of drugs and his reflection of TV and movie personalities such as Shaft and Superfly, just to name a few.

I wanted to be so much like him. As an immature young boy, he’s all I had to identify with from the manly side, not knowing he had entered that other dimension of thinking.

I confided in him about my situation with my girlfriend being pregnant, and he advised me that just because she’s pregnant doesn’t mean I have to marry her and mess up my life. You need to live your life, he said.

For a few days I took his advice. Then one day God came to me through my mother, saying, You need to do what right. You need to come back down south and marry her and give that child a father.

I loved this girl so much, so I followed the advice, which was the right thing to do.

My brother was already under the influence of the enemy and his advice was a recruitment to join him, but God interceded through my mother, guiding my footsteps down the right path.

So I left Missouri and returned down south. A couple of months later, we were married before the child was born.

The wedding was nothing extravagant, but I had a certain peace about what I was doing was the right thing. All my classmates attended, along with her parents, my mother, and my brother.

This was the happiest day of my life. Suddenly I heard people asking, Who’s that? Who is that man?

I turned and looked into the crowd, and my happiness suddenly turned into shame and embarrassment, for my father and my grandfather showed up at the wedding, not that he wouldn’t be welcome, but he was highly intoxicated. Liquor smelled all over the place, and he stumbled, and his speech was slurred, for that was his trademark.

After viewing him for several minutes, everyone knew exactly who he was. He could never deny me as being his child, not that he did, because we looked almost exactly alike. It was like I was a younger version of him. I was so ashamed of being his son. He and my mother dated, and I was born out of wedlock.

He was already married to a lady in Houston with children older and younger than I. I actually saw him three to four times briefly during my entire childhood life, eighteen years.

Every time I saw him, he would hand me a dollar and disappear. Little did he know that a dollar couldn’t replace the need and want of my father in my life. I hated him that day and vowed never to forgive him for what he done to me.

After the wedding, my wife and I proceeded inside her parents’ house. For this was now our home too. Although dealing with the shame and embarrassment from my father, I managed to enjoy the rest of this marvelous event.

I was married. I was happy yet concerned. I was an eighteen-year-old high school grad with no work experience and no money, and I was immature and living with my in-laws. Was this what God had in store for me? Was this the blessing he had blessed me with?

Now that I was married, my first concern was to find a job. Since I was from a small town and I knew most people, it wasn’t long before I was referred to my first opportunity, my first job.

It was in a meatpacking plant, killing and processing cows, hogs, and other animals. The work was dirty and inhumane, but I didn’t think about that. I had a job. I worked every day and came home to my wife just as everyone else in town did.

On weekends, we went out drinking, and on Sundays, we rested, then start the week all over again. Seems like this was the norm. I had become a part of a fixed way of living with no progression. I’d forever be working in that meatpacking plant, with no pay raise and no benefits, making just enough money to live off, or so I thought! I knew in life there was more in store for me, but I had no idea how to get there.

There are three types of people in this world. There are leaders, followers, and those that lag in between. I was a follower. I had not yet learned to be a leader, making positive decisions on my own, but I was following the thoughts and decisions of others.

This as I would find out is a dangerous way to be. Other people’s decisions are not always what’s best for me. It can leave the door open for the enemy by sometimes paving an enticing road.

As the year progressed on and the summer ended, my wife finally gave birth to my first child, a baby girl. I wanted her life and everything in it to be so perfect, even down to her name. We had family members soliciting names for her, everything from French to German names. That seemed like the trend back then, but this was my little baby girl, and for the first time, I stopped being a follower and took the lead role in naming her.

Angela, my angel, became her name. Although my wife and sister entered a French name as her middle name, it did not go very well with me at that time.

Angela was born in a charity hospital where the cost of her birth was the donation of two pints of blood which I freely paid. After the donation, my cousin and I went to the liquor store and bought a fifth of wine because we thought that would help replace the blood we had given.

At the hospital, when I saw Angela for the first time, I was so amazed. There lay my baby daughter, vulnerable, small, head full of hair, and perfect in every sense. God had given me the greatest gift that I could ever imagine.

I was so elated, so proud and thankful, and she was the only thing on my mind. Seems as though I was walking on clouds of air, feet never touching the ground. This was the greatest moment in my life. God had created a miracle for my wife and me.

Several days later, my wife and Angela were allowed to come home. Everybody in the family was so loving, caring, and helpful when they arrived. Friends and acquaintances all poured into the house to see this marvelous child that God had blessed us with, bringing gifts of diapers, milk, clothes, blankets, and so on. Kind of reminds me of when the baby Jesus was born and the three wise men came bearing gifts. For what Jesus was to the world, a savior, she was also that to me. For if it wasn’t for her, I might have lived a very stagnant life there, occupying a slot in a predestined unprogressive life as most others had settled for. She saved me from that destiny.

I started a scrapbook of my family from our beginning. I drew a picture of my wife on one inside cover and on the other I made a vow and dedication to my wife and daughter which contain these words:

Baby, I’m for real!

I, Larry Singleton, dedicate this album to Jerri Singleton, my wife, and Angela Singleton, my daughter. Because of circumstances, we didn’t marry under the conditions in which I had so gracefully planned, but as I would have thought, everything still turned out for the best.

Angela, not knowing the challenges that this world offers her, will undoubtedly run into various challenges in her lifetime. I, as her father, will contribute as much as possible toward her success in life. Angela, so sweet and innocent, has a life of tragedy and happiness to look forward to. Angela was not blessed with the wealth like most fortunate babies, but I believe that a baby born poor has more in life to look for especially true friends. And for this, I love you, Angela.

Jerri, a young girl who hasn’t had a chance to experience life as she should, married because of the love she had for her husband. Husband united with wife, love united with lover, is the recipe for a trouble-less, successful marriage. Her love for me and the faith she has in me is what’s going to make this marriage worthwhile. If anyone is willing to dedicate their entire life, starting at eighteen years of age, to their wife as I hope to do, I’d like to see them. Because you are who you are. I’ll always love, honor, and obey (sometimes).

Larry Singleton

Now I was motivated more than ever to succeed in life and be the best father and husband imaginable.

CHAPTER TWO

A friend of mine had joined the Air Force and was home on leave. We met and he was telling me all about it. How exciting it was, the travel, the pay, and the ability to progress to the top ranks. Seemed like this was exactly what I was looking for.

I had dreams of my family and me leaving my hometown, traveling, progressing in life, and being able to give them all the things they needed and wanted. Once again God, through my friend, showed me the direction to that I had been seeking.

A few days later, I went to the Air Force recruiter and signed up. At that time, you had to be a high school graduate and a certain academic level to be accepted. This I had already obtained. So I was scheduled a few weeks later for testing.

I was excited for it seem my dream for my family and I had finally begun to blossom. Although I hadn’t taken the test or physical yet, I had no doubt that I would succeed.

Several weeks later, I went for testing. There were four basic tests, all to test your IQ in different areas. All my life, knowledge and information were something I absorbed like a sponge. I loved it.

The way they phrased the questions confused me for a moment, possibly because I was a little nervous. But when I settled myself down, all the answers to the questions became very clear. I finished the test in half the time and was excused to go home and wait for the results.

I continued working at the meatpacking plant feeling more and more closed in to that way of life. One day, a month later, my results came in. My family and in-laws read them and were so proud of me, for I scored in the 90th percentile, another successful step toward changing our lives. With the results also came a scheduled date to take my physical. I knew this would be no problem.

I took the physical, passed it and moved on to the actual joining of the Air Force. On November 19, 1971, I took the oath, signed the papers, and was now a member of the armed forces, the United States Air Force.

Since it was so late in the year, I was placed on what they call delayed enlistment, which meant that my basic training wouldn’t start until after the holidays.

My family and I enjoyed the holidays. Thanksgiving and Christmas were always big occasions. My mother and mother-in-law cooked all the favorites—chicken and dressing, baked macaroni and cheese, collard greens, neck bones, potato salad, and all sorts of cakes and pies.

All the family would come together at Christmas or Thanksgiving, no matter what part of the country they lived in. A family tradition of togetherness, closeness, and love during the season was a must. No matter where God had led you in this world, this was time to come back and revisit your roots and get revived on all that God stood for.

This holiday season was especially special to me because I was married to the woman I truly loved, I had the special gift of my baby girl, all the family and love came with them, and our lives took a new turn in the Air Force.

God had truly blessed us. I didn’t see it at that time for being so happy, excited, and exuberant. It was also because I knew God, but I didn’t have that personal relationship with him to recognize that he and he alone created all my blessings. I was going through life thinking things just happened.

CHAPTER THREE

After the holidays, everybody went back to their homes and lives, and things became normal again, all except for me. It was January now, and in a few days, I would be leaving my family for basic training. I had already begun to miss them, but I knew we were headed for a better life.

Then the day came. It was January 5, 1972. A day filled with a lot of mixed emotions. There was sadness that I was leaving the ones I loved, my family. There was also excitement, anticipation, a little fear, and concern for what was to come.

But on this day, they drove me to the airport, teary-eyed and sad. We got out of the car at the airport and patiently waited for my flight to announce boarding.

While waiting, I looked at my family and knew that leaving them would only be temporary and that this was the beginning of a new life that my family and I were worthy of.

The happiness for me filled the air as they called for boarding. I kissed my wife and baby girl, said goodbye to the family, and boarded the plane.

While boarding the plane, there was excitement, the feel of being important for I had never flew in a plane before. I thought that only important and wealthy people flew. I had never even been to an airport.

Now here I was on a plane, experiencing things that I never thought I would ever do. First class, up front, and flying with the important and wealthy people, I began to dream that one day, I too would be important and wealthy.

As the plane took off, it was a sight to see. The lifting of the plane, the ground disappearing, and soaring through the clouds was an experience I would never forget.

We had a stopover in Dallas, and I was in awe over the size of that airport. It was so huge to me, for I had only seen the one in Shreveport. I was kind of fearful that I might get lost and miss my connection, but following the signs made it quite easy.

I proceeded on to my destination flight, San Antonio, Texas. Once again up, up, and away we flew through the skies of Texas. Through the clouds, you could see the land below.

The trees looked so small and everything was miniature. The land was sectioned off like a small puzzle.

I was fascinated as we flew through the clouds. Some of them were so heavy that the ground disappeared and all I saw was white clouds, which looked like heavy smoke.

We began our descent to the ground, and the plane started rocking, which they called turbulence. For someone who had never flown before, it was a little frightening.

When the plane landed, I proceeded to the door to depart. When I reached the gate, I saw a sign that said, Air Force recruits. I went there and found several other young men from the same flight gathered there.

Why hadn’t I seen them before? I guess I was so amazed over the whole experience that the people just eluded me.

The sergeant that was in charge took a count and roll call and ordered us onto a bus. The bus departed and carried us to Lackland Air Force Base (AFB). This is where my basic training would occur for the next six weeks.

We arrived, and our first stop would be the dining hall for lunch. The sergeant yelled, This is hell’s kitchen and you will follow orders. I became nervous because I had never been yelled at like that before.

When you enter hell’s kitchen, you will fill one table up at a time. The first of you maggots that get to the table will remain standing and hold up three fingers. As each of you maggots get to the table, you will drop one finger until the table is filled. No one will sit until all is there. Do you understand? he yelled.

Everyone was shaking with fear from the screaming and the possibility of making a mistake.

Why was he doing this? Was he mad at us? Did he have a bad day? When I signed up for this, the recruiter never mentioned that we would be treated less than human. Everyone came to the conclusion that he lied to them about the Air Force.

It was the first day, and some wanted to give up but not me. Although I wasn’t used to this type of treatment, the screaming and name-calling, I was willing to go through whatever I had to for the sake of my wife and baby girl. I was driven and motivated to succeed.

We went table by table through the buffet line, and as we got back to our tables, the same thing occurred. We put trays down and kept standing until the table was full, then everyone ate at the same time. If you had to get up from the table, you had to raise your hand and be acknowledged before rising.

One recruit got up to get some ketchup without raising his hand, and the sergeant viciously attacked him verbally, calling him names and even talking about his mother.

I thought he would pass out; he was so scared. But this was hell’s kitchen, known for the first stage of breaking new recruits. To me nothing was godly about this experience. It was pure hell, thus its name.

When we finished dining, we proceeded back on the bus. We were driven over to the dormitory which would be our new home for the next six weeks. When we arrived, we were ordered to put all our belongings on the floor and were assigned bunks, or beds as you might call them. Everything was constant, no relaxation and no breaks.

We were released from the sergeant and turned over to our TI, which stands for training instructor. He immediately gathered us together to demonstrate how to make our bunks, the military way.

He showed us how to tighten each sheet and blanket and to make what they call hospital corners at the foot and head of the bunk. The bunk had to be so tight that you could bounce a coin on it.

After the demonstration, he ordered us to get our bunks made. Everyone scrambled nervously trying to copy the instructor in making their bunks. He only gave us five minutes to get it done.

When time was up, he proceeded to inspect our bunks. He was brutal in his inspection. The first bunk he checked, he ripped all the covers off and threw them all over the dorm.

He yelled and screamed at the recruit all because his hospital corners weren’t exactly at a forty-five-degree angle. Do it over and get it right! he yelled.

Everybody started reevaluating their bunks and making adjustments before he got to them. Who told you sissies to move? he yelled. Stand by your bunks till I get there and don’t move. Everyone seemed horrified.

In one inspection, he literally pulled all the covers off, grabbed the twin mattress, went to the window, and threw it out. Everyone was so nervous and scared. I remember thinking, had this man lost his mind?

Finally, at the end of the inspection, the bunks were made, and most were passable. From that point on, everyone put their all in making their bunks. We checked each other’s for correctness and tightness and assisted where needed.

He gathered us all around to give us a lecture. He began by saying, I want you to forget about your mama and your daddy ’cause from this point on, I am your daddy. You will do what I say when I say it and how I say to do it. Do you understand?

Yeah, yes, right, and okay were the responses he received. Your first order is, he stated, "let it be known the first and last word out your mouth will be sir. Do you understand?" he screamed.

Sir, yes, sir, we replied.

He said, I can’t hear you!

And once again we yelled from the top of our voice, Sir, yes, sir.

At this point, it was almost dinnertime. So he lined us up from the smallest to the tallest and walked us downstairs to the chow hall (dining room) to have dinner. He reminded us in a rough way that the same protocol from hell’s kitchen would be adhered to here. It was not a problem because we had not forgotten hell’s kitchen.

After dinner, we proceeded back to the dorm and relaxed for a little while. The TI’s office was in the dorm area, so he proceeded there.

With the instructor not around, everyone started showing emotions. Some recruits, in a low whispering voice, started cursing and showing hatred for the TI, while others broke down and started crying. I was pretty much okay since at that time I was used to being a follower.

Just do as he says and do the best you can was my attitude. I was what you might call a perfectionist, and everything I did I strived for perfection.

All of a sudden, the TI burst out his office and yelled, "There’s razors in the shower area, and you have thirty minutes to get shaved, showered, and back to your bunks.

There was about thirty of us and only eight sinks. Everyone scrambled to get it done.

I looked around and said, There’s no way you can do this, so I patiently waited and observed.

Some were trying so hard that they were cutting their faces all up with blood dripping all in the sinks. I said, Not me. I took my time and was able to get shaved and showered and by my bunk in those thirty minutes.

He came by and inspected everyone, made demeaning remarks about all the cut-up faces and blood, and said Lights out for it was 9:00 p.m., bedtime.

I lay there with my mind so congested with all that had occurred that day, and this was only the first day. How would I survive six weeks of this torture?

Again I asked myself, Is this what God had in store for me? I began to think I made a mistake until I thought about my wife and baby girl and that made it bearable.

CHAPTER FOUR

The following morning, I was startled out of my sleep by the banging of a trashcan lid throughout the dorm and a loud voice yelling Get up. It was 5:00 a.m.

We all jumped up, grumbling, half-asleep, with a voice screaming, You got thirty minutes to wash up and make your bunks. Breakfast was at 6:00 a.m.

This carried on for six whole weeks, but it seemed every day it got a little easier.

During basic training, we learned many things. We learned to march in unison, run, salute, respect, work together, follow orders without question, always be on time, and most importantly, be proud. We even had classes on military history and regulations.

Basic training was an invaluable experience. I still adhere to some of the values even today.

When I graduated basic training, I had this certain pride about myself that I had never had before. I was proud of this great accomplishment also.

Upon graduation, I was assigned a job based on initial test scores when I joined. I was to be a marksmanship instructor. This was a far cry from working in a slaughterhouse.

Seems like my dreams were starting to materialize. I would now be an instructor once I completed technical school.

The military was not only a career but a job that paid me twice a month. I was able to help my family who was still back home by allowing the military to automatically send them a monthly check by allotment.

My monthly pay was about $300, and they received $105 of that. It was great for me to be able to send money to my family and not worry about their financial needs. Presently $105 a month might not seem like a lot money, but in 1972, it was adequate.

After the grueling challenge of basic training, what was most important for me now was to see my wife and baby girl. They were the most important thing in my life, and I couldn’t wait to see them.

I was allowed to go home for a short period of time due to my technical school class, which had not started yet.

I caught the first plane home. Once again, I had the feel of importance. No one in the family had ever flown in a plane to my knowledge.

I could only imagine the pedestal they had put me on because of the achievements I had accomplished in the last seven weeks. Everyone looked up to me in both families, my wife’s and mine, but I remained humble.

When I arrived home, at the airport, everyone was there waiting to greet me. Kinda reminded me of the president coming to a town and all waiting to see him.

I stepped off the plane standing proud and tall wearing the Air Force uniform. To everyone, I was a sight to see and words couldn’t describe the way I felt.

I looked out over the family and there was my wife and baby girl. Moving through, hugging here and there, I finally reached them and just embraced them for so long, it seemed like eternity.

Tears fell from our eyes. For we missed each other so much. If ever in this world anyone was truly in love, it could never surpass the love I had for those two.

We proceeded to my in-laws’ house and for an entire week all I did was love on my family.

My life had changed. I was on the road to success, as I knew it, and we would travel that road until death do us part.

The week went by so fast that I could hardly believe it was time to go back. Sad as it was, I knew one day all this separation from my family would be over. Life would come full circle for us because I had dreams of the perfect family and success, and nothing would stand in my way.

I departed and flew back to Lackland AFB, Texas.

CHAPTER FIVE

I started tech school a few days later, which would last four weeks. In my class, there were about eighteen of us going through training to be marksmanship instructors.

Everyone was from all over the country, Philly, Detroit, LA, and New York, just to name a few. I was from as small town and I got to know some of them and they were very different.

I grew up with a simple life. I never had sex until my senior year in high school and never knew anything about drugs. All I knew was the closeness of a family and love.

A lot of my classmates were well versed on a lot of things in life that I had not been exposed to, not that it was all good because some things were frightening to me.

We were assigned dorm rooms with two people per room. My roommate was from New York. He had a strange accent when he spoke.

We got to know each other and would talk a lot about New York and my hometown. The picture he painted about New York was exciting and fast-paced. He told me about things I never knew existed.

I began to learn about a world that existed outside my perimeters. He told me about the hood (which is short for neighborhood), police, street hustling, loose women and prostitutes, pimps, and drugs.

During this time, a movie came out, Shaft, which we went to see. The movie depicted all that he was talking about and that being a follower instinct came out as I told him, I’m gonna go home and be like Shaft.

He stated, Why not be yourself?

I had entered a university of life, and my teachers were all whom I came in contact with. What I would do with the lessons I learned would determine my destiny or fate.

One afternoon, while we were in our room, he asked me something very strange. He said, If I fall asleep, give me some salt.

I asked, What are you talking about?

Then he began to tell me of his use of heroin, that deadly drug that goes in your veins. That explained the mannerisms he exhibited, the lazy laugh, the scratching, and appearing as if he was about to fall asleep.

I knew nothing about heroin. All I knew was that people who use drugs were dangerous and could kill you in your sleep. I was not about to remain in that room, nor was I going to remain his roommate. I was frightened.

I went to the sergeant in charge and asked to be assigned another room. He wanted to know why and I said, I just need another room, please.

I was moved to another room, and the following day, I was called down to the OSI, the Air Force Office of Special Investigations. I had no idea why they needed or wanted to see me. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I suspected it was about my roommate.

Was I going to jail because I was in the room when he shot up, although he was in the bathroom?

I proceeded to their office, and when I arrived, they took me into this small room with two chairs and a table. The first question they asked was Let me see your arms. Then I knew.

I immediately made it known that I had given blood a couple of days before. The agent said, Don’t worry, we can tell the difference.

They looked at my arms, and I guessed everything was okay. Then they began to ask questions about my ex-roommate. I answered each question as truthfully as I could.

They said, Thank you, and I was dismissed.

I was so angry at my ex-roommate that I went back to the dorm to confront him for putting me in this situation, but he was gone. I never saw him again. The four weeks of school would pass rather quickly without any other incident.

CHAPTER SIX

I would call my wife almost every night and talk for hours. When I wasn’t in class, they were all I thought about. Most of the time, my heart was so heavy from missing them and longing to be together that I could barely stand it. But now I had graduated, and I had to get busy making that happen.

I was no longer in training, so I was moved to a permanent dorm. I spoke with the first sergeant and expressed how I needed to see my family. He suggested bringing them to the base and letting them stay in the base guest house for a while. So I contacted them and made arrangements for them to come.

Soon after, they were on their way by bus. How was I to get them from downtown San Antonio to the base? I had no idea, but I knew it had to happen.

I had no car and no means of picking them up. I thought the cost of a taxi would be such an astronomical fee that I only considered it as a last resort. The bus was out of the question because I had no idea how to ride it or how long it would take.

I began to get nervous and scared. My family would arrive at the bus station, and I couldn’t be there to meet them. Not knowing much about the city life, I feared for their safety. I felt helpless.

While I was standing at the front gate of the base in distress, there appeared a young sergeant who was talking to another sergeant. Something told me to approach him, and I did. He asked my name and if I was okay.

I explained my situation and he was more than eager to help. I truly believe God was with me and placed that sergeant there, for a child of his was in distress.

We immediately got in his car, and he drove downtown some thirty miles away and was there in time to meet my lovely family. Thank you, Jesus. I hugged and kissed them and introduced them to my newfound friend.

We proceeded back to the base and the guest house where we began to settle in. My friend volunteered to take me to the store to get some necessary items so that we would not be in need. He also came by every day to check to see if it was anything he could do for us.

We were to become friends for life. My family and I was finally together. A dream come true. God had truly blessed me, and I thank him so much.

While at the guest house every morning, I would go to work on the firing range with such anticipation of coming home. While together we ventured the base and explored all that it had to offer. But the time was short-lived for they could only stay in the guest house for a month. I cherished every moment of that month, giving them all the love I had. Then it was time for them to depart. A sad occasion for us. Now we would be separated again.

So they traveled back to our hometown from whence they came, and they took with them my saddened heart. I remained there wanting them to forever be with me.

Once again, I had no idea how to make it happen, but I swore next time they come it would be for eternity. No more separation.

I continued to work every day, and my supervisor and I began to get close. We began talking about lots of things. Once I felt comfortable enough with him, I started telling him about my issues with my family and the need to be there for them.

He started educating me on responsibilities and priorities. He said I should leave them where they are until I could acquire a car and then an apartment.

I had never purchased a car, nor had I ever leased an apartment. I didn’t know how to do either, but I was about to learn.

The very next day I went to a car lot that was right across the street from the base. The salesman approached me and asked could he help me. Just looking, I replied. Then I asked how much a particular car was. He said it cost $1,100. It was a 1965 Chevy Impala, had two doors, and was white with red interior.

I instantly fell in love with that car, but I didn’t have $1,100. He asked if I could get a loan from the credit union. I replied, I’m gonna try. He wrote me up a