The Writers Corner

Oil by my father...inspiration for my novel.

Still working on my first novel ; )

Detective Hart was the LAPD detective on duty when the call came in from the swanky hotel. It was just 4 days from Thanksgiving and Hart had just hung up the phone from talking with his wife. Personal calls, while frowned upon, were hard to stop when it came to Betty Hart. Being giddy with excitement, she called twice within a thirty minute span just to go over the holiday menu. The dectective tried to sound enthusiastic for his wife's sake but he still felt deeply saddened from the previous years holiday. As she recited the menu to him, her words drifted off into an abyss while his mind kept replaying the horrific scene that occurred just 11 months earlier. The scene seemed to cycle over and over again in his mind. It was just this past New Years Eve when the Chief gathered Hart and several other officers together. The Chief made it clear that, if they wanted any promotions, the streets needed to be “cleaned up”. “We're going to start 1968 out right”, Chief Grear declared. Following his bold command, Grear scheduled a raid on the Black Cat Tavern. “The place is crawling with law breakers, so let's arrest these queers”! I didn't see any harm in it and, Lord knows, Los Angeles needed some good publicity for a change! We were directed to meet at the precinct dressed in our plain clothes. This raid was to be a surprise so that violence would be minimal. I remembered how hard the rain was coming down and how odd it felt to be working a raid on a night when everyone else was preparing to clink glasses and welcome in the New Year. But, being long over due for a promotion, I was sure this would really seal it for me.

Just before midnight, we parked behind the Tavern and casually entered while keeping in mind to quickly take our positions inside the club. The count down to midnight was just starting and Officer Campbell gave a nod directing our attention to a couple of the patrons who were kissing passionately. “Five, four, three, two, one, Happy New Year!” This was our cue to go into action. Swiftly, we moved in and began arresting several men. It seemed like just a matter of seconds before the whole scene began moving in slow motion. From a side glance, I saw the Chief and a few other officers reach for their batons and start to beat several scared patrons. As I heard the sound of a baton cracking against a man's skull, the beaten man yelled my name. I quickly je**ed my head around and, as I turned, I saw the blood streaming down the face of my best friend from high school, Tommy. Tommy was a guy I always admired. In high school, he knew how to play the guitar and all the girls flocked to him. Then, when he went away to college, I remember hearing him on the radio as he disc jockeyed for his weekly show. Tommy was always the guy with all the talent that everyone looked at with awe. I remember when he accepted the job of being my best man in my wedding. I felt like I just got the nod of approval from a celebrity. For Christ sake, me and my wife had him over for dinner every few weeks and I never knew. What was he doing in here? What else didn't I know? Then I saw another man rush to his side. He tried to shield Tommy but was beaten as well. The cruelty and hatred that was in the club that night drained all the happiness out of the New Year. Hell, it drained the happiness out of me for a lifetime. Every time I shut my eyes, I could still see the face of my best friend.

Finding inspiration in Paris!

Visit to Germany is giving me time for introspection...

Discovering yourself is a journey that does not depend on your present as much as it is about acknowleding and coming to terms with your past. It is your past that leads you to an awareness of who you have been and who you will become. For me, this journey of discovery has been a much more treacherous and mysterious than I had ever anticipated but it has finally brought me to who I am now. This story is about that journey.

Oh how true!