Publisher's Synopsis
My father was the youngest of 7 and had 5 sisters, all married-he never spoke about his childhood. The war scattered my family worldwide. Uncle Joe was a US Army Supply Sergeant at a warehouse outside of London and bombed out victims showed up begging for food and help. He gave them food medical supplies and set up shelters. 'We all felt better for helping them and it gave us a purpose', he said. He had a girlfriend, asked the brass if he could marry, they said no. Sent back to the states just as the war ended. Became the Tannersville Police Magistrate-elected for 33 years. He became a Judge the year I became a cop... WW2 started when I was 4-years-old-sent to Catholic School-the nuns in black vials and white bibs with Rosary beads were nasty. I learned to read English mystery pocket size books riding on the train to New York City while working for my father in his office-around the corner was the Army induction center. There was a great person-a sergeant-he became a friend. I volunteered for the Army. The second day in Basic Training I went to the aid of Ahmad Leroy Jones, bleeding to death from cutting his hands trying to wring out a mop. It containing a broken drinking glass-every finger was cut-used direct pressure to stop the bleeding and Bob Hunt carried him up the stairs put him to bed. Monday morning I stood in front of 200 men, 6 sergeants and 3 officers, and became the Company Medic Acting Corporal then Radio School-there I corresponded with OCS-Advanced Infantry as an Acting Sergeant... I began writing about my Army incidents, embellished them turning them into include fiction. Sometimes I relive my Army incidents every night and every word. After separation, I took the Civil Service Test and became an EMS Village Police Officer. In 1964 my inactive Reserve Unit was reactive. I was off to Vietnam as a Second Lieutenant, but with having two daughters I did not have to go. When I was a police officer-I had to obey the other officers. They would talk behind my back knowing Chief Waring picked me from many others. His cousin was my Godmother and knew me from birth. I never knew it until I retired. The Chief was honorable-went to church every Sunday. To this day I do not attend churches or funerals-reason being a nasty Catholic sister who hated everyone with a Jewish German sounding name. So much for Christianity She beat me with a ruler daily. Honor has its own rewards you can go home with a warm heart.
