In 1948, Cono Dennis boards a train to Temple, Texas. It is the same place he escaped at age 14, when yet another act of violence by his father finally pushed him over the edge. Now, Cono is no longer that skinny, tow-headed, battered kid. At eighteen years old, he is Master Sergeant at Lackland Army Air Force Base, a boxer, and the physical training instructor responsible for over 10,000 men. An invitation from his father to return to Temple and spar with him is too good to pass up. But once Cono throws his first punch, will he be able to stop?

Born during the Great Depression, Mike Mahan was in many ways a very lucky boy. His parents, a barber and a beautician, owned their own shop and home, always providing ample food, clothing, and warmth. No Hill Too High for a Stepper is not, then, the usual story of economic or family struggle, but rather a celebration of life in Montevallo, Alabama, during the thirties, forties, and fifties. It paints excellent portraits of unusually supportive parents as well as of other family members and townspeople, creating a detailed sense of small-town life during this period. At the heart of this book is an absorbing depiction of an irrepressible child and adolescent who approached all of life with a great sense of wonder and who meant to live it to the fullest. Throughout the memoir, the reader comes to see the richness of this life and the pride with which Mahan remembers it.

Will Brister's sons are at a loss as to what to do with the elderly widower who was once their vibrant, charismatic father. A chance newspaper ad and a pleasant voice on the phone lure the family to Remington Hills, a large assisted living facility on the northern edge of San Antonio. There, Will emerges from his grief to instill life and energy to what had become a peaceful, but monotonous environment. Remington Hills provides a memorable read about courage and triumph . . . family ties and compassion . . . heartache and tough decisions. It sheds light on contemporary issues relative to aging, while ultimately demonstrating what it is that makes seniors tick.

This is the story of one such NCO. He is equally versed in training and planning in leading and fighting. Raised from the poverty of the Great Depression, he enters into the service at sixteen. Like what a large number of young men did in WWII, he lies about his age in order to have the opportunity to do more than just survive. It has been argued that there was no such thing as a teenager until the 70s. When you left the house, you were considered an adult. You made decisions as an adult, you were treated as an adult, and you were respected as an adult. This soldier becomes that adult when his first experience in war comes at age seventeen in North Korea of 1950. From Incheon to Suwon, to the Chinese border of the Yalu and the Chosin Reservoir, he travels and fights for his country six thousand miles away from home. He is not old enough to drink or vote, but old enough to die. He grows up in the military under the tutelage of his commanders and leaders. He couldn’t read a compass before he was put in charge of a platoon of fighting men. All of whom are older than him, some by a decade or more. In a few short months, he goes from PFC to master sergeant.

Though Michael Smith cannot forget the pornographic atrocities he witnessed abroad during the Vietnam war, it is the pervasive brutality of civilian life that threatens to destroy him. American Blood is a timely and fiercely moral statement on violence and loss.

I recently discovered something very interesting. Everyone you chance to meet has a true "snake story". Some are good, some bad, some ugly; most are humerous; a rare few are incredible. I have gathered together a couple dozen of the best. Read the stories in any order; read them one at a time, over a period of time; but do yourself a big favor...READ them! Some stories may be a tad scary...most are funny. "Truth IS stranger than fiction and these stories are TRUE...they really happened!"