Bøger af T. Allen Winn

William H. (Buddy) Phillips refers to himself as just an old tired, used-up, country preacher, now retired. He likens his life story to that of a Forest Gump on steroids. He had indeed lived a remarkable life filled with spills, thrills and misadventures before and after becoming a man of the cloth. For Buddy, as most call him, the story is not all peaches and cream as the elders used to say. If that is true, then the adverse is also true. Life is not all about gloom and doom or misery and hurt. In Buddy's words, "I stand at the edge of the dark retirement abyss with my toes dangling over the edge. When mounting enough courage to peer into the darkness, I see nothing. All I see is what is behind me. I have been called preacher, parson, pastor, and once priest for forty-two years. Before that, I was called an EMT, a Paramedic, and a First Responder. I have been called a father, Dad by the children and husband by my wife. I flew airplanes, so I was called a pilot. I rode a big Harley and was called a biker. I was called brother by two younger siblings. My two brothers were killed at an early age. I feel like I lived a dozen lifetimes. I have been loved by many, but the most by one. I have been despised by many and hated by a few. Many have called me a friend. I was raised in a four-room, eight-hundred square foot house, became homeless, lived in a YMCA, and now live in a house nearly five times the size of my childhood home. In between, I have gone hungry for days numerous times. Once there was only a pair of faded jeans (not in style then), two shirts, a few socks, and a pair of suede high top Hush Puppies. I began work plowing for Gideon Smith at twelve for twenty-five cents an hour behind a mule. I pumped gas and was a bagboy. I have held numerous other jobs. I painted, fixed cars, welded pipe, managed multi-million-dollar budgets and went from one of the smallest churches in the conference to the largest. I have held people in my arms and felt them die. But I also held the hands of others who found new life for their souls. I ate in the school lunchroom to dining in five-star restaurants. I have met the hobo, the bum, the derelict, the infamous, and the famous. I walked the halls of many derelict and crumbling buildings. But I also walked in majestic buildings like the curved halls of the United Nations and sat there in the General Assembly discussing Middle Eastern conflict. I remember staring at the podium where I, as a child, saw Nikita Khrushchev, in black and white, pound his shoe on the podium. There are far too many contrasts to put them all down. But I must say this. I have never been a saint. Only a full-blown sinner. As you will undoubtedly see for yourself. I have been told, some stressful experiences. such as chronic childhood abuse. These are so overwhelming and traumatic; the memories hide like a shadow in the brain. At first, hidden memories that can't be consciously accessed may protect the individual from the emotional pain of recalling the event. But eventually, those suppressed memories can cause debilitating psychological problems, such as anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, or dissociative disorders. Repressed memory is a survival technique built into the mind. Add to that the sights and sounds that came with being a paramedic you will understand why my good friend who was a counselor, Dr. James E. Hunter, told me I was the victim of eternal PTSD and one of the "Burned of God." So, when do you really start telling your story? A friend said, "Tell it all!" But I do not know that I can. I certainly do not know, except for maybe my family, that anyone would want to read it." Prepare to meet a remarkable man, one of the smartest many will say they have ever known.

This is the second memoir of good old southern home cooked nostalgic nonsense from the author, more stories from his life. In his first book, Cornbread and Buttermilk, Good Old Fashion Home Cooked Nostalgic Nonsense, ole T. Allen introduced the readers to his world of 50s through 70s. These are more shorts scattered about and throughout pert near fifty years of nostalgia from a mind that is determined not to forget any of it. If you enjoy fun stuff to read, then give this one a test drive. The book might just prompt some memories of your own, that is if you were born in the 50s era. If you are a tad younger you might just learn something worth remembering. Hopefully by reading it you will be inspired to research stories from your elders while they are still around. Remember, when they are gone, so are those stories and memories, many of which might include you.

Eleven year-old Lorrie has overslept. Her cat, Mister Twix, her usual alarm clock, is nowhere to be found. She reluctantly accepts the help of two young Cat Scene Investigators to solve the mystery of her missing feline. Soon everyone becomes a suspect in this quirky CSI romp that will lure the reader into an unforgettable catdunnit.

Bentley should have his very own cartoon show. He's the lovable and animated long-haired Weimaraner and family member of Paul and Susan Jackson. His antics were first featured as posted on Face Book, a face that you could never forget. Bentley was destined for fame and hopefully you will enjoy meeting Bentley as much as I did. We all need a feel good moment so please enjoy Being Bentley on us. Smiles allowed.