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About the Author

I was born to Mr. & Mrs. Tyson on February 17, 1944 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Sometime after that, we as a family moved back to North Carolina to farm.

The first thing I remember about myself was the time I got my first beating with a rope. I was about three or four years old. I remember my sister and I playing around the screen door while my parents were working the field nearby. As she would stick her finger in the back of the door, I would close the door and try to catch her fingers. After 3 or 4 times of playing our game, her finger got caught in the door and she started crying, my step-father came running into the house and started beating me with a rope. I remember crawling under the bed to the farthest corner trying to get away. I also remember crying myself to sleep. It’s been a hard road for me but I have persevered and become a very successful man in spirit and in health.

The next thing I remember, we the family were going to see my sick grandmother. On the way, my stepfather stopped in to get a drink. We stayed in the car with the driver. My stepfather must have gotten into an argument with someone. As my stepfather was getting into the car, someone throw a bottle at him. My stepfather told the driver to drive on. A piece of glass got into my eye. I started crying and then my mom started crying. We went on to my grandmother’s house. I remember my mom squirting some milk from her breasts into my eye. There she got the glass out of my eye. Sometime later my grandmother died.


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