Many times, the weather was gorgeous. for other kids, their Sunshine was my pain. When I got old enough to rebel, I ran away after my father grabbed me too hard. I ran to the neighbor and after that day, my father never put his hands on me again. He kicked me out when I was 15..no clothes, no bags, no money...nothing. I would walk miles into town and go to my grandmothers house. He'd get into verbal arguments with her accusing her of overlooking his authority by taking us in. She'd reply, "If any of my grand-children knock on my door without a home, I will never close the door on them or deny them anything". I loved her for that. What was bad is we'd get kicked out for the most simple things you would not believe. We never did drugs, didn't run with any gangs or anything. I remember once I asked to go to a party after I got off work and he said no.
So instead I worked over-time. He pulls up to the job and confronts me saying that he knew I went to the party and not to go home. When I did, he called the police and they escorted me at 3 a.m. They dropped me off right in front of the projects. We were not a rich family but we were middle class, making it and paying bills...never had a vacation. The year they got a divorce I quit my job, dumped my girlfriend and moved to Tempe Arizona and graduated summa *** laude with a bachelors in computer science. Year later I moved to Nashville, TN and been here ever since. A year before Katrina, I felt so guilty when it happened but luckily everyone was ok. I had my moments when I was kicked out, seen a friend get killed and got jumped pretty badly walking thru the wrong neighborhoods.
