Carl and the rest of the story…


Originally uploaded by jayfherron.

I’ve spent the last few days pondering the request to quit teasing and get down to it and tell the rest of the story!
How is it there is an end?
I am a man who life and past cannot be put down in words that will bring it to an end-or give the rest of the story….as much as I would like it to.
I was’nt much older than the kid in this photograph when I first saw a human remains in a casket-it was my sister,she was 11.
I was’nt even eleven when my playmate and I saw our neighbor blow his brains out in his cellar.
I was sixteen and getting ready to go out on a date when while standing by my bedroom window I saw the little boy in this picture get run over by a car. He was my little brother Carl.
I’ve written about all these things earlier…but yet there is always more to tell about all of these things….like the night my baby brother was killed I snuck a fifth of whisky out of my dads liqour cabinet and got right drunk-and later puked all over one of our neighbors brand new shag carpet before I passed out . The following morning the woman told me she was sorry about my brother but that I was never welcome in her house again.
This photograph was taken the day before Carl was killed-my mother was a teachers aid at our other brothers school and they allowed Carl to sit in during the class photos-he was a cool little guy and red was his favorite color.They buried him in a red jacket.
We lived outside of Washington DC in the suburbs when this happened. We had lived there about a year-it was’nt a great year beside my brothers death. My story talks about how things n another school in another state were really bad-I had run away from home to escape the things that happened there…and later became close to being like a school shooter because I caused a automobile accident by throwing things off of a school bus at cars-to try to get kicked out of school… worked,but with consequences.
But-we moved a year later and in the new high school was a girl from the school in the other state and when I saw her I decided that things were’nt going to go on like they did before so I began skipping school.
It was a cool era and a cool place to be able to skip school-only a city bus ride to the District of Columbia where I could escape into the museums day after day.
I got caught a lot of times and was always in trouble with my family and when my brother Carl was killed we buried him in Pottstown Pa.,and followed the hearse with his little coffin in plain view for 200 miles…all the way there my mother kept saying it should have been me-after all,I was such a bad boy.
I had an opportunity to join the Navy at an earlier age of 17…I had to wait until I was 18 to do active duty,so this was some kind of reserves. Viet Nam was going full blast-and it was an insane time to join the service….but I wanted to do something to prove my worth to my family-my father!
Navy was the best until I got stationed with my oldest brother Frank. Things went to the worse and for NO REASON AT ALL this young sailor was sent to a detention barracks-and there I was attacked and beaten up and raped.
My life was F-blank blank blanked up from there on.
I cannot compress the days and months and years of everything into one or two of these blogs entries….I have seen and done things that many folks only maybe get to hear about. Drugs-selling drugs….getting sick on drugs and trucking,and drugs….and crazy crazy days and nights until I nearly died and saw a light. I got caught up in America’s Most Wanted and was’nt even trying for the spot! Shoot me please! I wish it was over today….but,that ain’t my choice and that means theres more to come.
Stay Tuned.

One Response to “Carl and the rest of the story…”

  1. truckerswife Says:

    That was very deep. You have gone through a lot of things, and we always have a story to tell. You also give good details that I felt it in my heart!

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