This is the true story of a severely abused child who modeled his dysfunctional upbringing and became a pitiless, selfish, absentee husband and father. Jim abandoned his family and became so despondent and nugatory that he hit the skids. While living in a halfway house and later on the streets in the ghetto, Jim went to school, earned a degree in divinity, and later became a pastor. Jim found his happiness in living with, teaching, and caring for these refugees who are oftentimes deemed as reprobates by an unmindful and uncaring society.
This is Jim's story. I am his sister, and I wrote this narrative, as I lived some of it. The rest of the story I penned from the dying lips of a veteran who died from the toxic effects of Agent Orange that he was poisoned with while serving this country in the Korean War.
As I close this book of remembering, I open through tears and say, "Jim, I miss you. I wrote your story and I didn't 'pretty it up'!"
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