"A Look Back In Time: Memoir of a Military Kid in the Fifties" is a fascinating, insightful, inspiring, and sometimes hilarious chronicle of life while growing up in a military family - Colonel Arnold R. Goodson, United States Army (Retired). If you knew your light was dimming, But had memories left to share, Would you take the time to write them, Or wonder who would care? When I was a child, we were always moving from one place to another. Making friends was something I looked forward to with an uneasy anticipation. If you moved frequently, you were different. Different was new, odd, curious, set apart, suspect, shunned, whispered about, left out, ignored, picked on, talked about, overlooked, not from here, alone - you know, different My dad was in the military. We moved, like clockwork, every three years until I was more than twenty-years-old. The things I saw and the places I lived are now a part of history.

They form the canvass for "A Look Back In Time: Memoir of a Military Kid in the Fifties." There's Humor: On the farm, the rooster crows before the sun rises and wakes long before a dreaming boy wants to open his eyes. That is another reason why I hated roosters. They don't work like your alarm clock. You can't punch them and then go back to sleep. They start crowing early and they don't stop until the racket has worn you out. They dash your dreams onto the rocks of realty, turn off the snooze switch, and then blister your eardrums. There's Intrigue: Dad sat in the chair next to the doorway.

I plopped down into one right next to him. Although we were sitting just a few inches apart, I felt like I was marooned on Mars. My dad was silent and removed. Once again, I felt abandoned. I had been summoned without any reason given. I was about to enter a room of strangers with a hidden agenda waiting for me to answer questions honestly about who knows what. I began to survey the area. My chair was in the middle of the room.

A single light dangled over my head, but it must have been broken, because it was off. Overhead, florescent lights shone brightly. There's Drama: Earl Jr.'s cry was primeval. It came from deep inside the depths of his soul. It rose unashamedly, unabated, and without any pretentiousness to cover its origins. It caught a draft of the hot and humid night air and then permeated every room soaking us all in a wave of pity. It was a cry for forgiveness.

It was a plea for redemption. Yet, there in a corner of the kitchen floor, lay another soul gasping for air, worn and battered but not broken. His cry, though louder, fell silent. It rose from the depths of his heart. It sobbed woefully, tearfully, and with every fiber of its being surrendered totally. Earl's father was crying for thankfulness. There's Conflict: Jimmy looked perturbed as some of the fellows backing his side chimed in. The scene was getting ugly again.

I stood slowly and backed up to clear some space, but the crowd had formed a solid circle around me. The red-haired kid called me a cheater. His face was beet red and his eyes had narrowed. Then, the big kid pushed Jimmy into the circle with me. There's Suspense: As I entered the cobblestone roadway, there was a bright light shining in my eyes. Then, I heard the horn blow and wheels screech. I looked right into the jaws of death. I was headed straight for a military personnel carrier three sizes bigger than a Ford F150.

I hit the brakes, braced myself, and waited for the truck to wipe me out. There's Romance: I could still smell the aroma of her perfume long after I could no longer see the greyhound on the back of the bus. There's Something for Young and Old: I invite you to go along so that you can experience what it was like for a young man of color to grow up in the U.S.A. during the fifties. I am excited about the chance to share these memories with you. I hope you will find significant reflections of your own childhood among them.