#Tuestimony
I was almost a teenage Father.
By age 16, I was carelessly active in worldly things. A young Woman (she was 18) and I 'adulted' for almost 2 months, and we werent smart when we adulted. One day... she called me and said "Jaye, I'm pregnant."
There was no music playing... but when those words came out of her mouth, I heard the <music stops> sound effect loud and clear. I remember hearing this <tunnel swoosh> sound over the phone, symbolizing my future and life being instantly changed and how I just screwed up and I had stepped into an uncertain/twilight zone. I was silent for a good 20seconds before she checked in and was like "Jaye? Hello?". All I could respond with was "Yes, Im here. Thank you for letting me know. What do we do now?" She said "I dont know. I took some at-home tests. Im going to the doctor in a few days and will let you know what he says." I was like "OKAY."
<BACKSTORY: This girl wasnt like a high school sweetheart or anything, so we didnt have any kind of "We'll be together forever" plans. It was a fling thing (for lack of a better term)>
The next day, I told Mom & Dad that I wanted to talk to them together that evening about something very important. NOTE: We never had "family talks" or anything like that. And if there ever was something one of their kids needed to say, we'd just say it as it happened. So for me to request/schedule a sit-down with them at the same time... they kinda knew something big was going on. I sat them down in the kitchen. With no intro, no fluff, no ease-my-way into it... I said "Hey. I got <NAME> pregnant. She just told me yesterday. She's going to the doctor in a few days. That's all I got."
My Dad was beyond LIVID. It looked like he wanted to flip the kitchen table entirely over. Perhaps he realized there was too much stuff on the table for him to lift it... so he just angrily shoved half the stuff off the table, while yelling at me at the top of his lungs. My Mom was unexpectedly super calm. I assume she was calm because Dad was freaking out. Because... Ive seen my Mom punch my older brother in the chest when he was kid because he asked her what the "F" word meant (after he heard her say it!). So I just knew Mom would be the one hitting me with a 3-piece. But Dad was the one who actually jacked me up by my shirt collar and Mom remained super poised. Pops blurted a lot of "Why didnt you...?" "How come you...?" "What were you thinking? "Ahhhh you idiot!!!" Mom didnt say anything until Pops let me go and stormed out of the room. Mom sat me down and all she said was "Every child is a gift from God, no matter how it comes. We'll get thru this."
The next couple days I spent worrying myself silly. Hadnt talked to the girl since she gave me the news. Finally she called after she came from the Doctor, and she said... "Oh, I have an important update. Doctor says Im actually 3.5 months pregnant. So... it's not yours." *Reminder: we had only adulted for 2 months.* Ohh man I was so relieved, happy, and excited. I think I ran through the house like 5 times, with both arms up and shouting "It aint mine! It aint mine!"
The girl and I agreed to end the relationship we had and we didnt keep in touch. That scare was life-changing for me. Soon after that, I began attending Church with my Dad and Uncle, which led to me getting Saved. Transformation wasnt easy after I received Salvation, so dont be fooled into thinking that Im claiming to have been "Holier than thou" since I was 16. I definitely still made mistakes after accepting Christ as my Lord & Savior. But convictions and guilt for those mistakes were heavier and stronger than before. And Im thankful that survived/lived thru certain mistakes and was able to come to God for forgiveness and redemption (because I realize it could have gone differently; everybody doesnt make it past a mistake to even ask for forgiveness).
So, not being a teenage Father was a request I didnt even pray for. When I thought I was the Father, I automatically accepted it and immediately started thinking about what I would have to do and how my life had to change. For it to turn out that I wasnt the Father, and for that to be what it took for me to join my Dad & Uncle in Church... I feel like God had a certain plan for my life and He made sure I didnt disrupt His plan. So, I praise God for it and I dont take it for granted.
#WontHeDoIt!
Tuestimony (9/11/2018)
#Tuestimony
I was born with heart problems that disappeared on their own… right in front of Doctors!
*I don’t recall any of this, as it all happened before I was 4. But my Mommy has told me this story a million times. (Some of the precise details are cloudy.)*
I was born with some kind of congenital heart defect; a murmur and an irregular heartbeat. I’m not sure of the cause or how severely it affected me as a child. Mommy describes me as always having been a happy and energetic child, and having never shown any signs that anything was wrong with my heart. But sometimes I would very noticeably not be able to breathe; and I didn’t have asthma. Mom says for the first few years of my life, she had to take me to the hospital at least once a month, but sometimes 2 or even 3 times… for frequent checkups, medicinal treatments, or because something happened with me that scared Mom.
One day at the hospital (I was 3)… Mommy said I started to turn blue. According to Mom, ‘everybody’ panicked!! (I hope Mom was the only one panicking and hospital staff remained calm and handled the situation appropriately). The Nurses shouted a “Code Blue” and started hooking up devices and machines to me. All Ma could do was watch in tears and fear, before being told she had to leave the room and let the Nurses do their thing. <SIDEBAR: If you know my Mother, then you know you DO NOT tell her that she can’t be in the room with any of her children for any reason! Luckily for the Staff, this was a rare occasion when Mom chose to comply instead of choking errybody out.> Anyhoo, Doctors came in and did whatever along with the Nurses and got me stable… But, they declared that I needed emergency surgery because the “fixes” were temporary and short-lasting. Mom gave consent and they rolled me out.
Mommy said she prayed and prayed as she watched them hurriedly take me away. The Surgeon ran one final test before actually performing the operation. He didn’t find anything wrong in the test. Confused, he ran another test. Again, results were normal. He went back over my medical chart (for that day), my medical history, and consulted with ALL the other Doctors and Nurses. They all came back and ran more tests. All results came back that my heart was beating regularly, they couldn’t hear a murmur, and there was no sign of any kind of heart defect. All of them were scratching their heads in a “What in the world?” reaction. Meanwhile, Mommy was in the waiting room still crying and praying, thinking that they were operating on my heart the whole time. So when the Surgeon and the other Doctors came out, her first question to them was “How’s my baby!? Please tell me he’s okay!” They told her they called off the surgery because they couldn’t find any heart issues, but they wanted to keep me there for another night to monitor me. The next day, after more tests revealed “nothing-is-wrong” results, they discharged me… with instruction to my Mom to bring me back (on a given schedule) for further checkups/monitoring. Weeks later, they closed the case and declared me healthy with a perfectly normal functioning heart… with no explanation of how my heart was healed.
Mommy believes it was a miracle… one that only God could have performed. I share that belief, even though I have no first-hand memory of any of it. I can’t imagine what must have gone on in Mom’s head every day for the first few years of my life… and especially during that “code blue” debacle that was originally supposed to be just a routine checkup. I praise God for my heart. I praise God for my Life. Because I live, I believe God has a purpose for me, so I won’t take it for granted. My everyday goal is to pursue and execute God’s purpose and plan for my life.
#WontHeDoIt!
Tuestimony (9/4/2018)
#Tuestimony
I should have failed a grade level (maybe even two), but I graduated from High School on time... because God put some Angels of Teachers in my path.
Idk what I was going thru in high school, but it def didnt reflect my academic strengths. I was widely recognized as being a really bright student... but I was also widely recognized as being a really lazy student. I always scored highly on tests, exams, classwork, homework, pop quizzes. BUT..... the thing was... I often (1) didnt do homework, (2) was too late getting to school to turn in homework for a class or take a test, (3) fell asleep in class, (4) skipped a lot of classes or skipped school altogether. So... my assignments were good WHEN I did them, but I admit that I didnt do them very often.
My first 2.5 years of high school was at an advanced school for gifted students. In that time span... I failed an English class, I failed Geography twice, and I was in process of failing something else but I cant remember (probably History?). I had to go to summer school after 9th and 10th grades to make up for the failed courses. Mid-year 11th grade, my Principal sat me down in her office and told me there was no way I would graduate from that school on time. She gave me 3 options:
A. Remain at that school > Get held back & repeat my 11th grade year. Do better and graduate a year late.
B. Remain at that school > NOT get held back a grade level. Do better and graduate on time. However, I would receive a graduation diploma from my zone public school... because I wouldnt have enough credits to earn a diploma from the advanced school. I also wouldnt be allowed to participate in the graduation ceremony because I wouldnt actually be graduating from that school.
C. Transfer to my zone public school. Credits carried over would put me at a slightly above-average 11th grade student level. Do better at the zone school, and I could graduate on time, with an "Honors Diploma".
I chose Option C and transferred to my zone school mid-year 11th grade. But... my habits didnt change. So while assignments were a lot less demanding, apathy was still leading my output. So, I failed a class or two there at the new school and had to attend summer school again and even repeat some courses in 12th grade.
Near the end of the year, when all the Seniors were gathered in the auditorium and handed envelopes that said whether you were graduating or not... I sat there for a super long time without opening my letter. I was in my chair, surrounded by people, but feeling completely alone. Because while everybody was excited and shouting and high-fiving and discussing what they were gonna do next year... I kept my head down, thinking about what I could possibly tell my Mama and my Grandma about why I wasnt gonna graduate. Finally, I mustered up the courage to open the letter, and to my surprise, it began with "Congratulations...". I dont even think I read anything after that before I jumped up in my seat and did the typical power-fist pump in the air, accompanied by a series of "Yea, Yea, Yea!" I was soooo excited!! And confused... cuz I knew I was still failing some classes and previous report cards showed I shouldnt make it.
Later, I went to my teachers individually to ask them how on Earth did I get a "Positive Graduation" letter? They all had similar responses; something along the lines of "You're very smart. And you're not a bad student (as far as conduct/citizenship). I couldnt fail you for the year. But... LIFE isnt so nice. So, you cant continue with that same work ethic and efforts and expect to excel. I know you know better. So be better."
Some said I was lucky. I felt like God had a plan for me and put it in those teachers' hearts to "give me a pass", because repeating my Senior year would have messed up whatever God's plan for me was. All I know... is that I didnt take my graduation for granted. After high school, I attended VCU for a year... for Psychology 1st semester and Electrical Engineering 2nd semester. And while I did well, I realized that I didnt want to pursue either field long-term. So I left after the first year and went to Centura College (formerly known as Beta Tech) for Computer Networking Administration. I was diligent in homework, extra studies, attendance, and even peer tutoring. Out of 8 marking periods, I made Dean's List 5 times and Honor's List the other 3 times. My academic efforts after High School was one of the ways I said "Thank You, God." for sparing me the trouble that would have come had I not graduated on time. And, I didnt want to take God's Grace for granted by maintaining previous habits and expecting Him to make another miracle for me. There was def no summer school for failing a college course!
I do not encourage anyone to follow what I did. While my experience taught me some lessons in hindsight, it has also cost me a lot of money!... as I didnt have any scholarships and had to pay out-of-pocket for college! So now... I encourage others to strive for academic excellence (in studies, in ethics, in effort)... because it would make life a whole lot easier.
#WontHeDoIt!
Tuestimony (8/28/2018)
#Tuestimony
I 'found' money in a time of need.
Generally, Im pretty good at keeping track of my money and making sure I had enough in the bank for the unexpected. But one time... an emergency situation came about and I was short. I had a couple payments coming in in two days. So, I seriously contemplated not to tithe on either upcoming payment and use all the money for my situation..... and then use a future payment to back-tithe.
At first, my prayer was asking God to forgive me for what I was about to do (use all $ without tithing) and accept my intention to pay back the tithe with future income. But then... I felt super convicted and guilty... because it doesnt work like that. So I changed my prayer to ask forgiveness for even thinking that way, and declaring that I will tithe regardless of my immediate need for cash... because the situation is in His hands.
On the day that the payments came through, as I was preparing my tithe... something told me to look at my tithe history and income/payment history. I found a discrepancy: About four months prior, I had received a $400 payment and my tithe for that payment was $400. [Somebody say "THAT AINT RIGHT!"]. Apparently, I had forgotten to carry the decimal over because the tithe should have been $40, not $400. So essentially, I had overpaid my tithe by $360. The new payments coming in was about $4000, so the tithe this time would have been $400. So, I counted the $360 overage from months prior toward the current tithe, and set aside the remaining $40 for tithes, and some extra for Offerings. But then I had enough money to cover the emergency.
Two things I took away from that situation...
(1) It was a Blessing to have tithed $360 over and not even notice it until months later... and only after being deliberate in checking on some accounting.
(2) I believe that the voice that told me to check my tithe/payment history came only because I DECIDED TO TITHE. I mean... I hadnt even given my tithe yet. But internally, and in prayer, I made the decision in my heart to tithe. I believe it was at that moment that God said "I got something for you." I believe that if I had gone the other route and used all the $ and back-tithed later... then I would never have even thought to look back at my tithe/payment history, and Im sure I would have lost some of God's favor by being so unfaithful to Him... and it likely would have ended up being a worst financial situation for me.
I praise God for his miracles, for making ways out of no-ways, for me being able to fully trust Him. #WontHeDoIt!
Tuestimony (8/21/2018)
#Tuestimony
I believe God led Wife and me to the home we bought in 2015. Tons of things aligned too perfectly for me to believe it was all just by coincidence/happenstance.
My apartment lease was ending in November. It would have been mad expensive to go month-to-month so I didnt want to do that. But I've heard a million horror stories about house-shopping and how long and drawn out the process can be. So it was suggested that we look for houses months prior to Nov. However, I also didnt want to find a house too soon and have things go smoothly and then have to pay the down pymt for the house… and still have months remaining on my apt lease. So... Wife and I decided to wait until October to do our house-shopping. (Risky... I know!)
I searched online for homes I liked. Michelle searched online for homes she liked. Then we emailed each other with our top choices. Turned out... both of our #1 choices were the same house!... and none of the other choices were a match. So, we immediately contacted the realtor selling the house and our realtor and set an appointment for the next day to go and have a looksee. After the tour… we fell in love with it, and all the questions we needed answers to were provided very satisfactorily. We decided right then and there that we wanted it for sure. There was no need to look at any other house.
The day after the house tour… we began all the paperwork and logistics and price negotiations and all that jazz. We had to get a survey done, and an appraisal and all that stuff. The Sellers agreed to cover/correct the items dinged by the appraiser. The whole process only took maybe two weeks... probably not even that long. But according to everyone we’ve talked to… it was a record turnaround timeframe. We officially “Closed” on October 30. But, the Sellers needed 2 weeks after Closing to get their stuff moved out and into their new home. So, we actually didn’t get the keys until November 15.
The ONLY caveat with the house was that the first floor only had a half-bathroom (commode + sink). This wouldn’t work for my Dad (disabled) because he wouldn’t be able to easily get up and down stairs to shower. But, the house was so dope!! Our goal was to hire someone to convert the half-bath to a 3/4-bath by taking a couple walls down and installing a shower unit. If we couldn’t get that work done by the time I needed to vacate my apartment, I would have had to go month-to-month. But fortunately for us… I had a Friend who builds houses who just so happened to be available a few days after we got the keys to the home. My Friend and his team were able to get the work done within 5 days. Generally, it likely would have taken longer… but my Friend committed to finishing the project before Thanksgiving so that we could have Family dinner in our new home. And boy was it down to the wire!! Homie started on Nov 20 and was finished up at like 11pm on Wed Nov 25!!!! Thanksgiving was the next day on Thur Nov 26!! I don’t even know if he realizes how much his dedication to completing the job meant to me. What also made it so special… was that that Thanksgiving (2015) was the first time my immediate family and my Wife’s immediate family met each other (Wife and I were engaged at that time).
So, I don’t take for granted that:
(1) Wife and I saw eye-to-eye on a desired home on the first try
(2) the house-buying process was quick and easy and not like other experiences we were warned about
(3) the timing of the home purchase was perfect for my apartment situation
(4) I knew a Developer/Contractor who was available to perform necessary work within a remarkable timeframe
(5) the house itself was able to accommodate the addition of a shower unit in the half-bath. *I recognize that there could have been all kinds of issues that would have prevented the addition of a shower unti (or at least made it outrageously complex).
I praise God for all those things! #WontHeDoIt!
Tuestimony (8/14/2018)
#Tuestimony
In late 2010, my Father suffered from a second stroke, which caused aphasia (inability to speak) and ~85% paralysis on the right side of his body. I’ve been his caretaker ever since (and now, so is my Wife!). But the way God puts things in order is amazing!
I had been living by myself since 2008 in a 2-bedroom apartment. At the turn of 2010, some stuff went down with the house Dad was living in and he was in need of a new place to live. We decided that it would be best for him to move in with me and take the spare bedroom… and later on get a more stable place of his own. Well, months after moving in with me… his second stroke happened. He was in the Hospital/Rehabilitation Facility for almost 4 months and was scheduled to be released/discharged in Jan 2011. So, the family had some decisions to make about what to do when he was released and who would care for him and all that jazz… as he still needed around-the-clock assistance and supervision. The best decision was for Pops to continue to live with me.
My apartment was sub-level… so to get to it, you’d have to walk down a flight of 11 steps. But because of Pop’s condition, there was no way he could get down and up those steps. My apartment’s Front Office originally denied my request to transfer me to a level apartment (without steps) because there was nothing wrong with my current apartment. If anything, I would have had to break my lease and pay a penalty (or pay my lease off) and then re-apply for a level unit. So, I wrote the Front Office a letter explaining my situation and asking for some kind of exception. The Front Office manager then contacted Corporate (on my behalf) and got the request exception approved for me. So, we were able to change apartments, without paying any extra fees or penalties. #Blessing
At the time, there were relatives who were retired who could have possibly taken Pops in and cared for him. But some of them also had children/grandchildren and other responsibilities and lifestyles that would have made things pretty difficult. I, on the other hand, was actually already working from home… and plus, I didn’t have any children or other responsibilities or a lifestyle that would have made things too difficult. So, I was in a position to keep an eye on Pops all day at home, whilst still working and earning money. For the rare times I did need to leave the house, we had coverage: Family Members, Home Health Aides/Nurses when they were scheduled, Friends, and even Neighbors. #Blessing
When my Wife and I discussed our future together (before we got married), she already acknowledged that she knew I was a “packaged deal” that came with my Father. Even during our courtship phase, she was right there helping take care of Pops. Saying “YES”, when I asked her to marry me, meant a life that would automatically also include the care, commitment, and consideration for another person outside of her and me. And she knew that, and never hesitated, paused, or reconsidered. #Blessing
So, I don’t take for granted that…
(1) I was living in a 2-bedroom apt alone when Pops needed a place to stay
(2) My apartment management essentially ‘broke a rule’ to allow me to transfer units without additional costs
(3) I was already working from home so I was available to care for Pops
(4) People were able to help with Pop’s care when I needed them
(5) Wife left a ‘packaged’ relationship but wasn’t resistant to enter another one
I thank God for all those things! #WontHeDoIt!
Tuestimony (8/7/2018)
#Tuestimony
Friends and I escaped harm after being caught in the crossfire of a shootout between Civilians-and-Civilians AND Civilians-and-Police.
It was early 2002. Me and a couple buddies. We went to a party at the Civic Center in Petersburg, VA around 1030/11pm. <SIDEBAR: I realize I could end the story here after saying we were in Petersburg, but I’m gonna give the rest of the details anyhow. Haha.> Civic Center was a night club. On this particular night, Ja-Rule was scheduled to perform. Until he got there… everyone in the club was dancing, rocking out, having a jolly ol’ time. Then, a lil after midnight… Ja-Rule finally gets there and comes on stage and starts rapping/singing. And that’s when things got crazy!
Somewhere in the middle of Ja-Rule’s performance, someone from the audience threw a tomato at him. <SIDEBAR: I know how that sounds. But I’m not joking. Somebody launched a tomato toward Ja-Rule. Not a slice of tomato. Not a dice of tomato. Not a chop of tomato. Not a round, red object that looked like a tomato. Not a plastic tomato. They tossed a full, whole, complete, this-came-from-the-ground-and-made-it-to-the-produce-section-at-Food-Lion tomato.> Okay. So… I have no idea where the tomato came from, but I was rolling!! That was easiest the best part of my eve that night. Cuz where in the world do you find a tomato in the club!! Hahaha. Like… did homie come in with the tomato in his pocket? Why was a big round object not discovered during the security pat-down upon entering the club? *But then again, they didn’t really check IDs so it wasn’t surprising.* The only thing that could make sense, in hindsight, was that it was someone from the club’s kitchen staff who threw it.
Anyways, Ja-Rule didn’t like having to dodge a flying fruit, so after he ducked it, he stopped performing and yelled at the crowd, demanding that someone point out the person who threw it. But either people didn’t know or they remained quiet. He got fed up and started angrily splashing water (from water bottles on stage) on the audience. Someone then threw a water bottle at him… this time hitting him… and his security team grabbed him and took him back stage.
Meanwhile, a bunch of people started fighting in the club. Club Security managed to handle that and get all of those people outside. But then the venue Owner/Manager shut down the club for the rest of the night and said that everybody had to go. By the time my friends and I walked outside, we still saw different groups of people fighting and police officers trying to get control of things. There were maybe like 9 police cars outside and a bunch of officers running to different groups of fighters. <SIDEBAR: Ja-Rule’s team apparently was able to duck out and take off before all of this happened outside.> When we got down the front steps of the club… POW POW POW, BLAU, BLAU, POP POP POP, BOOM BOOM… gunshots! So, the scene was: A couple hundred people leaving the front door of a club, scattered in the parking lot and streets, with people fighting each other and cops, and then somebody had to start shooting! Mannnn, I was terrified!!
My friends and I hid under/behind a couple trucks/SUVs while most of everyone else scrambling and ran for dear life. Soon after, the gunshots seemed to have stopped. *It was maybe a total of 30 seconds from the moment we heard the first gunshot to the moment we stopped hearing gunshots.* We heard a bunch of other cop sirens coming. We got up from under/behind the vehicles and ran to our car. We didn’t linger to see who got hurt or who got arrested and all that. All I know… is that we made it out just fine. And I give God all the Praise for that. #WontHeDoIt!
**STORY EXTRAS: It boggles my mind that something like that happened at a Ja-Rule club concert. He had just dropped “Pain Is Love”. To me… neither Ja-Rule nor his music seemed to inspire random street beef. A few months after the Ja-Rule debacle… Three 6 Mafia came to Civic Center. I was there for that also. And I just knew something was gonna happen again! The first song the Three 6 Mafia performed was “Put Ya Signs”… which starts off with the lyrics “Put ya signs in his face, gang signs in his face. Make them dudes fight. Make them girls fight.” And then every other song was all about tearing up the club and reppin your set/gang and all those types of songs. However… NOBODY got to fighting inside or outside the club. It was one of the most fun times I’ve had at a club. I mean… I don’t even remember anyone being mad at the bartender for taking too long with drinks. I was like… how in the world was Three 6 Mafia’s event so peaceful but cats fought and shot at a Ja-Rule event. #HowSway!!??
Tuestimony (7/31/2018)
#Tuestimony
Getting hit by a car while riding a Friend's Cousin's bike led to me getting a car.
The year 2003. I was 19. I didnt have a car. So I walked to and from work every day... a lil over a mile from home. I walked, no matter the the weather.... blazing sun, pouring rain, snow, you name it. If we were open and I was scheduled to work, I walked to/from work. Sometimes, but not often, a friend would be avail to get me.
One of my Homies had a bike that his cousin gave to him. My Homie used it himself for a bit, but eventually got into a position where he didnt need it anymore, and told me I could borrow it to ride to/from work. One beautiful, lovely, sunny day... Im riding the bike to work as I normally do; on the side of the street where traffic flows in the opposite direction -- you know... cars heading west while I was heading east. BUT, I was on the sidewalk, so it wasnt like I was actually in the street. Okay. So.... I was approaching an intersection ahead of me and a car was stopped at the "STOP" sign, waiting for an opening to turn RIGHT onto the street I was comin up. I admit I did see the car. I also admit I noticed the Lady looking to her LEFT down the street to see when she could make her RIGHT turn. In my mind as I got closer, I said "I know she's gonna look to her right before she pulls off and makes that turn." Well.... of course there was an opening exactly when I got within hit-me range and of course she didnt turn her head back before pulling off.
Right when I touched the street from the sidewalk, she mashed the gas pedal -- I assume to make the turn onto the street fast enough so that the oncoming traffic wouldnt catch up to her. Well, I was there. Haha. When she hit me, I jumped off the bike and fell onto the hood of her car (back first) and rolled maybe halfway up her windshield before she slammed on the brakes... which then propelled me forward at jet speed. So I rolled back down her windshield and flew off hood and somehow I managed to catch my balance and landed on my feet. By "somehow", I mean that Im a stealth ninja.... and that's how I was able to do all that. The Lady ran completely over my bike tho... because it was not a stealth ninja.
Lady got out the car crying, covering her mouth, looking so scared and worried, and ran to me saying so much and speaking so fast it was hard to hear it all "OMG Im so sorry! Are you alright? I didnt see you. OMG please be okay! Are you OK? Where are hurt? Im call an ambulance!... etc." I was just like "Hey Lady. Calm down. Im OKAY. But you're gonna give yourself a heart attack." We went back & forth about calling the ambulance or police and I rejected both, saying I didnt need it and I just wanted to get to work so I could open the store. We dragged the bike from under the car and it was totally destroyed. I asked her for $100 so I could get another cheap bike from like Walmart or somewhere. (The bike I was riding was very old & beat-up bike... not like a vintage-type or anything that could sell at a pawn shop or any other shop... not even for parts). I was willing to let her write me a check and I would have walked the bike the rest of the way to work and it would have been over.
But Lady didnt want to do that. She called her insurance company, and they spoke with me asking the value of the bike... to which I said "maybe $100 after years of use and wear-down." Insurance Person asked the original value of the bike. I was like "Idk". Insurance Person said "How about $1500?" I was like "Probably not that much. Maybe $500? It's an old bike."" Insurance Person said "Well... we will send you $1500 just to be sure. Okay?" And I gave them my info. The Lady ended up putting the bike in her car and driving me to my job.
Days later when the check came, I felt bad for trying to keep all the $ because it wasnt even my bike. So I called my Homie and told him what had happened. And offered to by him/his cousin a new bike. He told me forget about it. His cousin had given it to him and wasnt looking for it back. And he was gonna end up trashing the bike or giving it away anyhow. So he told me to keep all the money. So with that money, and other $ I had saved, I was finally able to buy a get-me-from-A-to-B car. It was a used white 1990 Honda Accord sedan that I named "Maxine". <SIDEBAR: I now drive a black 2014 Honda Accord sedan named "Maxon".> That car lasted for years and was well worth the buy.
So... I praise God that I wasnt hurt in the incident. And Idk if I was cheating myself or not by asking for so little money... but I would have felt dishonest if I asked for a huge sum. So I praise God that they offered wayyy more than what I asked, which was enough to buy a car. Im thankful that the settlement check didnt take any kind of overwhelming, never-ending, exhaustive process; no police reports, no claims person coming to check things out... just a few pics of the bike and that's all. Shortly after getting a car, I was promoted to Store Director/Manager (@ Hollywood Video)... bcuz transportation was needed in order to take store deposits to the bank. *At 19, I was the 2nd youngest person in the country to be a Store Director/Manager. I praise God for having the work ethic to walk every day, regardless of weather, and having someone in Corporate taking notice and waiting for me to get a car in order to promote me. I believe God was watching me the whole time.
#WontHeDoIt
**SIDEBAR: If you follow all my #Tuestimony pieces... one of them was a story about a Friend driving me to summer school every day at 7am and asking for nothing in return. This was the same Friend who gave me his bike.
Tuestimony (7/24/2018)
#Tuestimony
10 Things I Thought About After Having #ShotsFired
I mean ^that^ literally... shots were fired at my house. At least TWO. Bullet1 made it inside the house (thru the front glass screen door and storm door, thru a wall, and lodged into the second wall somewhere). Police found Bullet2 in the lawn; it had ricocheted off the front porch steps. No one was hurt. This happened in 2017, but the following are the 10 thoughts that came to mind following the horror...
1. Umm, excuse me, Mr. (or Mrs.) Shooter, but.... It's one thing to be mean and shoot up my house... but please dont be so rude as to not leave me a note about why u shot. Nobody has to be THAT evil. Gimme the courtesy of tellin me what's goin.
A. Do you want me and my family out of the neighborhood?
B Was that a gang initiation act?
C. Are you just sinister and want to hurt someone?
D. Was it a warning that I need to cut my grass more?
*Along with your bullet(s), be nice and drop a sticky note in the mailbox. Thanks.
2. During screen door glass cleanup, I saw a dead 'foreign' bug in the pile of glass. I smiled! (Not bcuz of the bug's painful death)...
I smiled bcuz the story in my mind was... This bug had been waiting to get inside my house and attack me, but couldn't find a way in. Then finally a gunshot blew a hole just big enough for the insect to fly, hop or crawl in. And so as it tried to go through the cracked screen door, suddenly the screen shattered so the glass collapsed and killed the bug. So I feel like Fate was just looking out for me.
Fate: 1
Bug: 0
3. Ima leave the broken glass piled up on the porch in front of the door. It could be a crime deterrent. Cuz it would make a lot of noise tryna walk over all that glass to break in.
Also, Jehovah's Witnesses and Mormons might leave me alone now.
4. Ooooooo..... what if the shooter saw that 'foreign' bug and wanted to protect me, so he/she fired at the bug? Hmm.. I wouldnt even be mad at that. #TeamFraidOfBugs
5. Mannn, I have a swing hanging from the front yard tree. A SWING, my dude! A 'Daddy-can-you-push-me' swing!! Why would you shoot at a house that has a swing out front!!? That should be a thug rule.
6. My lack of knowledge for cars, yard work, and house work already reduces my MAN-points to a low range. But... trying to take off the screen door might subtract man-points to the point that I could grow breasts.
I mistakenly spent time manually (no drill) unscrewing 7 unnecessary screws before I realized they had nothing to do with taking the screen door off. So, I screwed them back in. Then I unscrewed the other 8 nails that were necessary. At that point, I attempted to pull the door off to no avail. Then I realized, that the first 7 nails (that I had unscrewed and then replaced) were ACTUALLY NECESSARY so I had to unscrew them all over!! I mean... Geez Louise w/Grilled Cheese Homie Please.
Bout to find me a snap/button screen door. Or velcrow.
7. Neighbors have told me about my backyard grass being too high. I've had neighbors express concern after noticing my front door was closed for a few days in a row (because as they did their morning walks, they usually saw my front door open). One evening, a neighbor called to let me know that my garage door had been open all day. BUT, somehow, on the night at least two shots were fired at my house... NOBODY heard anything, saw anything, or noticed anything suspicious. Hmm.
8. Looked up new front exterior doors. And oh man... there are SOOO many different types & styles. It's ridiculous! I tried a ton of different door type search filters bcuz I was looking for a door that had a peep hole. After almost an hour of searching, and getting frustrated that no door at Lowes or Home Depot had peep holes in them.... I searched specifically for "doors with peep holes" and I came to learn that the 'peep hole' device is sold separately and installed into the door.
Ahhhhh, that does make sense.
9. Our home security system was already sufficient. But, now we are adding more cameras, and buying more guns. I mean, more guns wont prevent random shots at the house, but it just feels like the right move.
10. Oh how I praise you, God. Thank You! Thank You. Thank You. .... I wasnt home when it happened. Wife wasnt home when it happened. Pops was home but sound asleep. My Wife had several opportunities to come home early that day, but something random kept coming up that delayed her. Who knows what would have happened had she been home?! If the shots didnt physically harm her, I cant imagine what kind of emotional toll it would have taken on her. And my Dad... oh man! Glad he wasnt walking around. Also glad the shot wasnt 20 feet to the left, because that's where my Dad was sleeping and that woulda been a wrap for him! And I know those things werent magic. God, I know You had Your hands all in it! I cant Praise You and Thank You enough for how You keep and protect us. Your Mercy. Your Grace. My God, Thank You!
Tuestimony (7/17/2018)
#Tuestimony
16 years old. I had to take a summer school course for a required class I failed during my regular high school year. The summer school was a lil over 3 miles away from my house. At this point, we didn't have a car at home. One of my best friends, who lived a few blocks away, offered to drive me to the school every day... all I had to do was call him at 7am.
**NOTE: Summer school started at 8am. There was a 1-hour grace period so arriving after 9am was considered TARDY. 3 Tardies (or absences) would negate the summer school credit and you would not get a course completion certificate. SO... the rule was... DON'T BE LATE OR MISS SCHOOL 3 TIMES!
Most of the days... there were no issues. I'd wake up on time and get ready, and hit my friend up at 7 and he would come through and get me there by 745. But twice I was very late and ended up calling him late and getting to the school after 9am. So... I COULD NOT BE LATE AGAIN or else I'd fail the class in summer school too.
So, on a Wednesday, I got up early as usual and I was ready. I called my friend at 7am. He didn't answer. I didn't worry, as there was plenty of time. I called him again after a couple minutes. No answer. I called again. Nothing. I started to worry. At 7:30am... I started panicking... and I called maybe 20 times in a row... all to no avail. I was like ohhh snap!! I made the decision to walk. Walking 3+ miles was not new to me. In fact, I walked home every day from summer school because my boy worked in the evenings so all he could do was drop me off in the mornings. The problem, though, was that they were calling for rain on this Wednesday. But it usually took me about an hour to walk home from school, so on that morning, I left out at close to 8am, knowing that I would get to school by 9am and not be considered TARDY. It wasn't raining yet, so boom, I head out the door...
I get two blocks down the street and out of nowhere... it starts pouring down raining! I'm talking... hurricane rainfall without a raindrop/drizzle warning... it was an immediate downpour! I didn't like it, but I had prepared for it. I didn't have an umbrella, but I had packed extra clothes in my backpack and wrapped it in a plastic trash bag. I was not gonna miss class that day! Of course, I didn't expect it to rain like right out the gate. So, I stood still for a few moments just to pump myself up to keep walking. Then, I decided to pray. I cannot remember exactly what I said in prayer, but I know that I asked God to help me endure and continue on and to make it to school on time. That was all I asked.
I walked to the next block, which took all of 30 seconds. The rain stopped. I mean... a full-stop. There was no drizzle... not even a raindrop. I looked up at the sky... regular clouds. Nothing that looked like it just dropped tons of rain in my area. I said another prayer, praising and thanking God. Then I decided to run three blocks back home, change my clothes, and then I was gonna jog most of the way toward the school to make sure I got there in time. I got back home around 8:15am, changed my clothes, and sprinted out the door. I was following my plan. I made it back to where I was at 3 blocks away and had to take a breather and I started to walk instead of run. Then my cell phone rang. It was my boy!! He said that somehow his phone was on silent instead of vibrate so he didn't hear any of the calls. He said he wasn't even gonna do his normal morning routine; he was just gonna get straight up and come get me from where I was. I ended up getting to the school around 8:30am.
As soon as I walked inside the school, it started raining again. I was like... "Wowww". Plus, my boy called me and said he didn't have to work that evening and he could return and scoop me at the end of school, which he had NEVER done so far my whole time there! I can't even count how many times I said "Thank You, God!" that day.
#WontHeDoIt
Tuestimony (7/10/2018)
#Tuestimony
I survived a self-initiated and self-involved severe car crash without a scratch and without legal trouble... while under the influence of alcohol. Oh, and there were no airbags and I wasnt wearing a seatbelt.
**DISCLAIMER: While the outcome of the following story is praise-worthy, the experience I endured is that of shame. This is not a story of glory.**
I was 17 years old, hanging out with some friends. I left my car at my buddy's house -- let's call him "John" -- and rode with him to a club. We drank a lot of alcohol that night. At least... I know that I did. At 2am when the club closed, we had to leave (of course). We stopped somewhere to eat and we got back to John's house a lil after 3am. John asked me if I needed to crash at his place or if I wanted him to take me to my place and just get my car the next day. I said... "Nah Im good to drive." He said OKAY and told me to text him when I got home. I hopped in my car and left.
I made to Chippenham Pkwy and headed Southbound. *NOTE: This was already the start of disaster, as the route to my place from John's place was North on Chippenham.* Okay, so... I made it a few miles on Chippenham South to where it connects to Interstate 95. I decided to get on 95North. After a short while on 95N, I realized that I was not heading home and I needed to go the other way to make it back to Chippenham North. So, I got off on an unfamiliar exit (Bells Road). BUT... in my intoxicated state... after making it onto Bells Road, I didnt navigate to find the 95South entrance. Instead... I made a u-turn and came back up on the same exit ramp I had gotten off on. So at that point, I was traveling Southbound but I was actually back on 95North. Soon after getting back on 95, I started to see cars coming toward me in my same lane; I saw them flashing lights, I heard them blowing horns, I noticed them swerving to avoid head-on collisions with me. Then I had the "Ah ha" moment... and I realized I was driving the wrong way down the highway. I immediately made a plan that I was going to turn my car around, get off on Bells Road exit again, and get on 95 South the correct way. However, I didnt think about how to safely and properly execute that plan. In fact, I dont think I thought about much of anything, seeing as how I was wayyy intoxicated. Anyhoo, I ended up trying to make a u-turn...... in the middle of the highway...... WITHOUT slowing down. Keep in mind... I was driving at least 55mph, as I was on a highway. And I just turned my steering wheel to the left as hard as I could, because that's how u make u-turns. And of course... that didnt work out so well!
I ended up skidding across all the lanes and slammed directly into metal rail wall on the right side of the highway (from the view if you are correctly driving North on 95N)... the impact from that knocked my car back across the 3 lanes into the concrete median wall that separates North/South traffic... and the impact from that middle wall knocked me again to the right-side metal rail wall. That's when the car finally stopped -- on the side of the road, away from traffic lanes, and the car had spun to face North (the correct direction).
My car was TOTALLED! I mean, nearly the front half of my car came off during the crash(es). The front of my car was now the radiator (bent and dented). The other pieces were scattered across the highway lanes. Keep in mind, I didnt have on a seatbelt and the car didnt have airbags. **Oh btw... I was driving a 1990 Honda Civic CRX. It's a 2-seater with a trunk... no back seat!! <<That's how small this car was!!** After 'gathering' myself together from the shock, awe, and terrifying experience I just had, I got out the car and looked at myself up and down and tried to focus to see if I could feel pain or bleeding anywhere. Nope... I wasnt injured at all. I looked around on the highway to see if I caused any other crashes and what not. Nope... no cars were around. So, I gathered my car pieces from the road and dragged them over to where I was on the side.
I called John and told him I crashed and asked him to come get me and take me home. The effects of alcohol had my mind going in and out of making sense. John asked me where I crashed/where I was... and I couldnt tell him. For some reason... at that moment... I couldnt remember the highway I was on, which direction I was headed in, or anything else. In John's mind, he thought I was somewhere on Chippenham North (which is where I should have been because that was the route from his house to mine). So, he asked me to describe what I could see, the last exit I remember passing, any mile markers...anything to give him clues. Keep in mind, it was now like 330am. I looked around and didnt see any highwah signs at all (they were probably there though and I just didnt notice). What I did see, though, was a whole lot of smoke coming from the tops of buildings. And I could see a section of buildings all lit up. John said "Perfect. You must be on 95 near the Bells Road exit, because that's where you can clearly see the factory. Im on my way." It took him maybe 15minutes to get there. During that time, I called my parents to tell them what happened. **SIDEBAR: They were so scared/worried for me that night and relieved that I was OKAY. But oh boy two days later... the way they got on me, I thought they were gonna finish the job and kill me themselves!!** After calling Mom & Dad that night... I just prayed and thanked God I was alive.... not only alive, but unscathed! I mean... I had super-tears crying as I praised God for my life and the fact that I didnt hurt anyone else. I mean... I legitimately almost went overboard with my prayer (if that's poss)... cuz I started to kneel down on the ground behind my car. But then I quickly realized that might not be the safest thing to do... so I just sat inside my car and prayed until John got there.
The next day I prepared myself for the worst legal ramifications. I just knew I was gonna get in some kind of trouble. I called a tow company and asked if they could pick my car up from the highway and deliver it to my house. I expected all kinds of questions for a report... thinking a tow company wouldnt just pick up a random car without having any info about why it was there, how it got there, or what happened to it. But nope. The tow-man just grabbed it and brought it to my house... no questions asked... no police involvement. Just a $90 tow fee. I was like "Wowwww!!!"
Perhaps some will say that my experience was all just happenstance. But I dont believe that. There was way too much involved for me to believe that it was ALL coincidence. I know God was all up in that! For me, it was a reminder that God had a plan for my life. And although I didnt go Super Saint immediately afterward, it helped me build my Faith and live my purpose.
*Dont drink & drive. It's not worth it. Uber, Lyft, Taxi, DD
Tuestimony (7/3/2018)b
*Part 2. See Part 1 also*
#Tuestimony
<The beginning of this story is detailed in the "Tuestimony Part 1" post>
On May 16, 1996... My little Brother and Sister (twins) were born more than 3 months premature. Very frightening experience all-around, but Mom and siblings are all good today.
While my Siblings and I were in the waiting room for 4 hours, we didn't have a clue about what Mom was going through. But later on, she told us everything! So, the Doctor had basically told us (Me, my 17yo Bro, and my 11yo Sis) that they had to emergency-deliver the twins or they would surely lose Mom and Babies. However, that's not all they told my Mom. Doctor gave Mom the WORST options a mother could be faced with! They also told Mom that they had to deliver the twins in order for either of them survive... but they gave her the caveats. There was almost ZERO chance of all three of them surviving AND being healthy.
They told Mom that they could only save the Boy or the Girl and still have a decent chance of saving Mom's life... so they asked her to choose which one (Son or Daughter) she wanted them to save. Mom surely cursed them out and called them crazy for asking that question and told them they better bring both her babies out. Then the Doctors explained that it was a very low chance of both babies surviving for long, even if they did bring them both out... plus that was coupled with a very high chance the she would lose her life in the process (because of what would have needed to be done in order to successfully deliver both babies). The Doctor reminded her that she had three children in the waiting room who needed her. Then they told her that if by some miracle both babies survive, whether my Mom survived or not, then at least one (if not both) of the babies would be severely handicapped... physically, developmentally, and/or mentally. Mom maintained her position: "Blah blah blah... BRING BOTH MY BABIES OUT!" Doctors did as Mom asked and hours later... everybody lived!
*SIDEBAR: I'm sure I would have gone bananas if I had known what the Docs said to Mom and what her responses were. Mom basically told the doctors not to worry about her and just be sure that her babies are safe. I would have fought my Mom tooth and nail to pick a baby or no baby to make sure that she, herself, would pull thru. But I guess that is why Doctors didn't give us all that info.*
We were able to see Mom soon after surgery, but we couldn't see our baby siblings until a day or so later. But when we did see them, it was unbelievable. I can't recall which twin, but one of them was born at about 1lb 6oz and the other was about 1lb 3oz. They were hooked up to a million machines inside incubators in the NICU. In order to see them, we had to surgeon-scrub wash our hands, wear some special lab coat thing and face mask... plus the incubators had lil glove-holes that we had to put our hands/arms through in order to touch them. I can't recall their length measurements, but I do remember that I could hold them (individually) in one hand; From head to foot they stretched from the tip of my middle finger to my wrist. Keep in mind that I had 12yo hands at that time. They were so tiny. And they were so under-developed... I had never seen anything like that. Their eyes couldn't open, their fingers and toes weren't all the way formed, they had super shriveled/wrinkly skin, they were soooo soft cuz all their bones hadn't hardened. They remained in the NICU for almost 3 months before they were allowed to come home. And when they did come home... they came with manuals!! Haha!! All types of at-home care machines and regimens.
Anyhoo, the twins grew up healthy and WITHOUT any negative effect resulting from their premature births; No handicaps mentally, physically, or developmentally.
Tuestimony (7/3/2018)a
*Part 1. See Part 2 also*
#Tuestimony
On May 16, 1996... My little Brother and Sister (twins) were born more than 3 months premature. A very frightening experience all-around, but Mom and siblings are all good today.
My Mom was about 24 weeks pregnant when she experienced some pain at home. Apparently, SHE knew something was wrong and had my older Brother (17yo) take her to the hospital. My Sis (11yo) and I (12yo) rode with them. I didnt know a whole lot about pregnancies and its complications. I remember being in the waiting room, thinking that nothing too serious was going on... like they were gonna give her some meds and we would be on our way back home. But NOPE!
Doctor came out and spoke some super doctory terms to describe what was happening. I definitely cant remember the medical jargon that the Doc said, but whatever it was... it meant that the babies had to be delivered right then or everybody was gonna die (Mom and both babies). Initially, I didnt understand the full gravity of the situation... cuz in my mind, all they had to do was perform a routine C-section and everything would have been cool. *NOTE: Mom gave birth via C-section to a lil Bro in Jan 1995, so I had no real reason to be scared about the procedure.* So, about the twins... We had just found out a few weeks prior that Mom was having a Boy and a Girl... so I was in the waiting room still thinking about names I was gonna tell Ma to give to my new Siblings. But my older Brother had a scared and worried look on his face. He explained the severity of this situation; the depth of what was still at risk with delivering twins at almost 6 months pregnant. Big Bro described and speculated about miscarriage, stillbirth, likelihood of the Mother dying as a result of pregnancy complications. Then, I became scared and worried. And because of the Doc's last update, we had expected them to go right into operation and come back to us soon with a report on whether Mom/Babies were OK or not. But NOPE! We were waiting with no word from the Doctor for about 4 hours... and oh boy that was brutal!
Keep in mind that I was 12; All I knew was Mommy. I didnt really have that sibling connection yet to my unborn Bro and Sis. I mean... having twin siblings would have been cool, but all I was truly concerned about was Mom. My prayer was "God, please let my Mom be OKAY."... and I had that prayer on repeat for those 4 hours we waited. Finally... Doctor came back and said that although the twins were hooked up to a million machines/devices, everyone was alive! We rejoiced! We could see Mom, but it would be a day or so before we could see our siblings.
**For me, this is already super praise-worthy! But because of what went on from my Mom's perspective during the 4 hours we were in the waiting room... there is so much more to be eternally thankful for.
<The rest of the story is detailed in the "Tuestimony Part 2" post>
Tuestimony (6/26/2018)
#Tuestimony
4 years old. I was lost outside (in my neighborHOOD). My Dad miraculously found me. <Here's the story...>
I was in Head Start at Bellemeade Elementary (Oak Grove). My parents put me on the school bus. Either they or my Big Bro would walk me to the stop, which was on a main road, 2 and a half blocks from home. And someone would we waiting for me at the stop after school. After while, the Bus Driver did the awesome courtesy of picking me up from in front of my house and dropping me off in front of my house. This courtesy went on for a long time and my Family got used to it, so they didn't need to walk me to the bus stop or wait at the bus stop for me after school. UNTIL THIS ONE DAY.....
One day, my normal Bus Driver picked me up from home and took me to school, as usual. But, an emergency happened with her that day and a substitute bus driver came to take us back home. Apparently... this silly, clueless, hateful, evil substitute bus driver was mad at the world! He followed the bus route by the book (for the most part). For all the students that were dropped off at 'special locations', this sub driver dropped them off at the designated bus stop spots for their addresses. As an adult, I can kinda understand. He was just playing by the rules and covering his behind. I get that. BUT... all the other students on the bus were older and bigger than me. For the other kids in my area who were my age... either they didn't go to Head Start/Pre-School, or their Parents drove them. So, we come down the main road, and the big stupid-head sub driver stops at a corner, opens the door, and tells me "Alright, here you go."
However, it really wasn't even my corner. He mistakenly went to the next corner (which wasn't on the bus route), but he didn't realize it. At the time, I didn't know where I was. All I knew is that the street and the houses didn't look familiar. Keep in mind... I was ~4years old. It wasn't like I paid attention to directions and surroundings every day to and from school. I just knew that when he opened the door, nothing was familiar. I tried to tell him that his wasn't my stop, but he told me to get off. So, I got off and started soft-crying. I looked left, right, front, back... I recognized nothing. Then I started bawling-crying. I chose to walk down the street I was facing when I got off the bus, with no idea that if it was the right direction or not. People were walking around outside, seeing me crying and they just kept walking like nothing was happening.
**SIDEBAR
I lived on Willis Street near Chesterman Ave. My official bus stop was on Harwood St (main road) and Willis St... so I would get off the bus and have a straight-shot walk down Willis St until I passed Chesterman Ave. But the sub driver let me off at Harwood St and Chambers St (one block past Harwood St and Willis St). For those not familiar with Southside Richmond... this is a hood/project area. We lived two blocks from "Hillside Court". No Pizza/Chinese Food deliveries. Territorial gang rivalries between nearby Project communities. Everybody was involved in drugs... either dealing or using. More people walking with guns than people walking with dogs. The 7-11 down the street got robbed once a month. <<OK, you get the point. It was a bad neighborhood.>> I said all that to say that it's not surprising that adults walked right past an alone, obviously frightened, crying kid. It wasn't the business of any of the adults. And none of em knew me. That's the nature of that area.
END SIDEBAR**
Anyhoo, I made it a little ways down this random street... and looked as far as my sight could go. I saw someone walking toward my direction that looked kinda familiar, but I couldn't quite make him out... with my teary-eyed, toddler vision and all. But he spotted me, paused for a second, and then started running toward me and screaming my name. That's when I realized it was my Dad. He got to me, picked me up, and carried me home. Dad had no business on that street at all. It wasn't like he was looking for me. My bus driver normally dropped me off in front of my house, where my Mom was. And it wasn't late, so there was nothing to alert them that something was wrong. In fact, I had gotten off the bus early because the sub driver didn't take the time going house-to-house. Dad was never into exercising... but on that day... for some reason... he got the impulse to go for a walk. Furthermore, that impulse told him to go to the next block to start his walk. So, instead of walking straight up Willis St, which is what most people would have done... he went up a block to Chambers St for no reason, which just so happened to be the street I was lost on and walking down. I dont believe all of that was a random coincidence. My Faith tells me God sent Pops out there to find me!
[P.S. Parents/Big Bro walked me to the bus stop and picked me up from the bus stop every day after that.]
Tuestimony (6/19/2018)
#Tuestimony
I walked away from getting jumped by 10+ people with unbelievably minimal injury.
I was 14 years old at a very poppin teen dance party. *For my RVA folk, it was at the Cavalier Skateland on Williamsburg Road.* Normally, I'd go with a couple homies... but on this day, it was just me and 13 year-old Sister.
Back then, I was all about dancing with girls. Ive never been shy or afraid to approach a girl. So... while walking thru the dance floor, I spotted a hot lil tamale just dancing by herself, while her friend was in front of her dancing with a boy. Other dudes were in the area, but they were staying back. To me... that meant one of two things: 1) Dudes tried to dance with her and she rejected them. 2) Dudes were intimidated by her foxiness and were scared to approach. This was my golden opportunity, cuz I liked being the first guy to dance with the fly chick just to show cats that "Im that dude". **SIDEBAR: I am telling this story from the perspective of 14y/o Me. So, as I use these flattering compliments about the girl, it is not 34y/o Me recounting the beauty of a 14y/o lil girl.** Anyhoo, I made the decision in my mind to walk thru the bystanders and turn them into witnesses of my immaculate and never-failing charm, cuz she was NOT gonna tell me "NO" when I asked her to dance! So... I made my way thru most people and I got about 15 feet away, but there were two final dudes I had to go thru. I didnt think anything of the two dudes... but apparently, they were looking for trouble!
These two dudes were facing each other, doing a thug type of bop/dance toward each other. How can I explain it?... It wasnt gay-like. There was plenty of space between them. But they were facing each other and swaying their arms and making gunshot hand gestures and what not toward each other in-sync with the music. Like... "Knuck-If-You-Buck" type of thing... Know what I mean? Okay... so... the lil hottie was immediately behind the space where the dudes were boppin/dancing. All I had to do was walk between the guys and the girl was right there. So, that's what I did. However, as I was walking between the fellas, I mistakenly stepped on one of their shoes without realizing it. I asked the girl to dance and she said YES (of course) and we started to dance. Only seconds into dancing, someone punched me in the back of my head. At that point, I had no idea what was going on or about to happen. But I was not about to get punched while dancing with this cutie pie and not do anything. And that's when it all went down!!......
I turned around and there were 4 dudes standing side-by-side, which included the 2 dudes I walked between. They all seemed to be doing that fighting gesture of one open-hand slapping the closed-fist hand.
I asked in a very concerned curious tone, "What is going on?"
One dude replied, "You stepped on my shoe and you aint apologize."
**SIDEBAR: I had been in a ton of brawls at this point, so scrappin wasnt anything new for me. So my pride kicked in and instead of apologizing then and trying to diffuse the situation.... my mind said that I can't let nobody hit me and get away.**
So, without apologizing, I said "Ok... which one of yall hit me?"
And while the one dude was saying "I did!", I swung and punched him in the face. Im talkin... I didnt let him finish saying the whole "I did." He got to about "I d--" and then 'Bladdaw!' my fist connected with his nose. Keep in mind, I was looking at 4 dudes in front me. I was well aware of that and I had a plan for them. When I made the decision to swing on the dude that hit me, I had already told myself that I might not win the fight if they jump in, but Ima hurt a couple of them. BUT... before I could even throw my second punch, I was hit in the back of the head again!
In that split-second, I knew it was over. Cuz 4 dudes were already in front of me and I still got hit by another person who was behind me. I turned around and swung on that dude and then I started feeling blows from everywhere. I tried my best to do some super combination of protecting my face and still swinging against all these people. In the brief moments when I was able to actually look around, I noticed my lil Sister watching me in the middle of this gang-beating... holding her face and pouring-out crying, scared, and not knowing what to do. All that was on my mind was hope that she didnt come over to try to help, cuz they would have hit her too. After I threw few good punches and a couple elbows... I realized there just too many to handle... so I stopped fighting back and just covered my face. I slipped on some juice and fell to the ground, and then I curled into a fetal position, still keeping my face tucked. I felt the pressures of punches and kicks but I think my adrenaline was so high, I didnt actually feel any pain. After a while, I felt someone pushing on me and telling me to get up. I looked... and it was a security guard! I was so relieved! I stood to my feet and saw the group who banked me exiting the side door. I said "Thank You" to the guard, thinking I was gonna go to the bathroom and check myself out/clean myself up and carry on at the party. But nope!... this BOZO security guard told me to leave, along with the guys who jumped me!!
I reminded the guard that he got me up off the floor bcuz all those guys were beating on me. The guard said that I was fighting too, and the venue had a NO TOLERANCE policy for fighting, so everybody involved needed to go outside. I was like... "Bruh, I was fighting in self-defense... I cant go outside where there are no security guards with the dudes who were still in the process of beating me when you intervened!" Again, he commanded me to exit through the side door, right behind the dudes. But I was able to convince him to allow me to call my Dad to come get me. The phones were on the other side of the venue, in the front office, so after making the call, I just stood by the entrance door... as it was no way those guys were coming back in.
I didnt even know how many guys there were until my Sister came to me while I waited for Dad. We stood outside next to the police car that was parked in front of the venue. **SIDEBAR: I have no idea where the police officer actually was. He/She wasnt in the car, and he/she certainly wasnt there to stop the fight. It must have been a just-for-show cop car.** Sis told me there were somewhere between 10 and 15 guys on me. That number was confirmed by a bunch of others who came outside to check on me and express their sympathies. *POSITIVE NOTE: I got soooo many squeeze-hugs from girls that witnessed the brawl... they made me so happy! Haha** My Sis was still crying... some of her friends who were there were crying. I was still mad at why the fight started, I was mad at the guard for trying to kick me with the dudes, I was mad I got beat in front of the flyest girl who was there and I didnt get to see her afterward.
When Dad got there and I checked myself out...
1) My lip was bleeding
2) I had a tiny knot behind my ear on my neck
3) Three scratches on the front/side of my neck
4. A small cut on my forehead
NO OTHER INJURIES! No concussions, no damage to any bones (back, rib cage, arm, leg, etc), no black eyes, no busted nose, no head trauma, no internal bleeding, no bruises. I put some ice on the small knot and used some Neosporin and a couple band-aids for the minor cuts. But I walked away in 'I-can-play-basketball-right-now' shape. One would think that the damage would have been more extensive... but I believe God had a different plan!