For most of you that know the story about my father killing my mother, I never told you what happened to my father. When I was a young teenager, 13 or 14, I wanted to do to him what he did to my mother. As I got older, people talked me out of it. I had a lot of questions and most of my family was dead. So I went back to the courts and found some old records that led to newspaper clippings. The papers said he was supposed to get no more than 25 years and no less than 20 years. He was out in about 13. I had the chance to witness to him (tell him about Jesus) and he didn’t want to hear it. So I just left him some tracks and told him to read them in his spare time. He moved up to Portland, Maine (from NJ) wanting to start his life over. His record dated back to being a juvenile. One night he was flashing around 1500 dollars to a co-worker who was also a drug addict, and the addict asked my dad if he could borrow some money. My dad said no because he already owed him money as it was. The addict pulls out a knife and cuts my dad’s juggler vein, throws a pillow over his head, then stabs him two times in the heart. This happened just before that 25 years would have been up. So where man failed God took care of it and saw that justice was done.