I came to life in the dirty South, my earliest memories are of cotton fields, outhouses, “NO COLORED” signs and hard work. In the late 1950’s I moved to the mid-west, like so many other Black folks, my parents went chasing the Amerikkkan dream.

Not finding what they sought my father came to California in 1960, and home for me during the turbulent 1960’s were the streets of Compton. There I grew to love basketball, running the streets getting high and ultimately devolved into a gangster, dope dealer, just another lost Black soul. Like so many others similarly situated , 1960 found me experiencing an wakening, the pride and power of who I was came upon me. Black Power had meaning, it was alive, in me!

At the turn of the decade with resistance movements being attacked and discredited by a criminal justice system bent on putting the Black Genie back in the bottle, I, like other angry young brothers across Amerikkka was ushered into the California Prison Warehouse System. But rather than die or lose myself in the maze of diseased prison culture I went to University. The idea that only one who dared to struggle could actually win found a place to roost in my mind, in my spirit and rather than surrender to the environment, I rediscovered dignity, reaffirmed my heritage as personified by those who’d overcome before me. I also rediscovered books. My novels/manuscripts are an effort to reach a dream and hopefully leave a message of hope. Only you, the reader can say if I’ve been successful. Enjoy the work!.....THE STRUGGLE CONTINUES!!!