Just looked over some old class mates from High School and beyond. My 6th cousin runs the 1st plank of "The Communist Manifesto" in the town where I grew up (code enforcement). Nicest guy you ever met. But I almost killed one of his employees a few years ago in my front yard. He was harassing my neighbor for having a flat tire on his minivan in his own driveway. I grabbed the sun glasses off the pricks face, my right hand wrapped around my pocket knife still in my pants pocket. It was all I could do not to follow my oath from Ft. Dix not to kill him in the street right there. The police, who came out, consisted of another guy I went to school with.
I guess I read too many books and sat in too many class rooms to go home.
Gene K. Chapman
