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From Just Surviving Life to a Life of Survival Preparedness, by Michael B.
From Just Surviving Life to a Life of Survival Preparedness, by Michael B.
I was born into the percentage of Americans,who statistically don’t make it to the American dream. I was Born 1980 in Modesto, California. The third child of a young mother and father hooked on Speed, KJ and any other number of drugs they could get their hands on. By 1983 we found ourselves 140 miles south in Visalia Ca. That year my father was shot point blank range in the lower abdominal area with a .22 Long Rifle hollow point. It was the neighbor in the next apartment who did the shooting and it was a fight over drugs. My older brother is the oldest of us three. He was standing next to our dad when he was shot. My dad drove himself to the hospital and passed out in the parking lot. My brother was seven years old at the time. He ran into the hospital and got their attention.
The bullet did what hollow points do: It broke into seven pieces. Without the energy to exit, the bullet pieces ricochet around like a pinball machine. One fragment managed to come out his upper back by his right shoulder blade. The seven fragments ripped his liver, pancreas, and spleen. They had to remove several feet of intestine. The shot damaged a kidney so badly that it was removed. My dad was transferred from Kaweah Delta Health hospital in Visalia to UCLA Medical Center. They saved his life but not before he went into cardiac arrest three times and was in the hospital for six months.
At that point in our lives, our mother took us back to Modesto and continued on the same path of,
Drug abuse, horrible mean men and Government assistance…
I remember CPS coming to our house and taking nude pictures of all the bruises on us kids. Their were four or five families in this house. They took pictures of the empty maggot infested fridge. Pictures of over flowing feces-filled toilets. By fourth grade for me and seventh grade for my sister, she’s the middle kid I’m the baby. Our older brother had run away from the madness to find our dad, to hopefully come to the rescue of us. We were too young to realize, he was living the same alcoholic drug life our mother was, only he was a little further south in canyon country.
Sometime during my fourth grade year my sister and I just stopped going to school. We roamed
all over Modesto. The school came by a few times but could never find our mom. My sister
and I eat at the church two or three times a week, sometimes we eat at the salvation army.
A lot of the time we stole food from the local market. Food to a couple kids amounted to
whatever candy you could get in your pocket. Some people might say I mentioned Government
assistance above. My mom and every mom in that neighbor-hood would make us kids take a
dollar food stamp at a time into the market and buy a 0.05 cent candy and bring them back the 95 cents change.
Source: http://www.survivalblog.com/2013/11/from-just-surviving-life-to-a-life-of-survival-preparedness-by-michael-b.html
