eh, like everyone else, I have led an improbable life

I am a preacher's kid. More specifically a missionary's kid. Methodist. I grew up in two hemispheres, three countries, two US states.

When I was in 8th grade I picked up the newspaper and read a story about my father being kidnapped and tortured. A few days later I met my first torture advocate, my American Civics and Georgia history instructor, who told me to my face that those countries need to torture to fight communism. This was before I knew if I would ever see my father again. Whoever hired that loathsome little frack to work with children and teach them "civics" was criminally negligent.

But you don't frak with a family of preachers. Sermons were preached, and preached, and preached by all my family's preacher acquaintances and senators and Representatives who's name never appeared on any list but roll call began contacting the state department. Ours contacted us.

My dad came home because this. I learned the value of our passports. I learned the value of our citizenship.

I joined the army to defend this nation, which was better than that.


Was.

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