'Memoirs of a Runaway' is a true story about a young man that overcame the odds, and by sharing his journey hopes to reach out to others. Click here to read what others are saying!

I used to tell people my story until I realized I was only glorifying my life to make myself look better. When I saw the face of a broken hearted father whose 13 year old daughter had run away, I knew it was time to tell my story... the truth.

In March 2008, I authored a book called 'Memoirs of a Runaway: A Story of Hope'. Here's more about me and the story...

My father died when I was 10, mom remarried a man that was mentally and physically abusive. By age 12, I was running away. By age 17, I had hitchhiked across country several times and driven over 250,000 in a semi alone before I even had a drivers license. I continued a life of separation from friends and family, isolation, countless codependant relationships, wondering how many times can I escape death, and did I even care? Hung out at pool halls, bars, and drug dens; whenever I did get caught, I would just run away again. Did every type of drug and drank just to make friends and feel accepted. Dealt drugs, drag raced cars, would suffer physical and sexual abuse, suicide attempts, jail and total separation from God.
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'Memoirs of a Runaway' is a story about relationships and reconnecting. Today, I own a successful trucking company I run with my wife, Sue. By sharing and relating my story, provide statistics, information, resources and hope to runaways and the parents of... along with a story many can relate with one way or another, it is my sincere hope to fill the void in my life and others.

In the beginning

   Thought maybe I should be getting back on the road again, but for different reasons this time. For the first time, I am no longer running or hiding, but just wanting to get some fresh air and take a little break from work. Or rather change where I do what I do and make it mean so much more. There’s a lot that keeps me here now, but that wasn’t always the case.
​   At 45, my memory isn’t what it once was; brain cells left at too many clubs and with too many nights of indulgence, but remnants of the feelings still remain. I can’t fathom how I survived and know that someone was looking after me. I find myself on the verge of my 46th birthday, wanting to document. Wanting to put the pieces together to help myself and to maybe help someone else. Surely, I could not have lived through what I did without a concrete reason for it happening. And even with things being as good as they are, I still screw up.

Somewhere in the middle...
   By the time I got to Nebraska, I was exhausted and stressed. I had been hitching for twelve days, and the only thing I had in my system was coffee and a ham sandwich that someone bought me. I thought about staying somewhere for a short time to get food stamps, but when you don’t have a place to live and, thus, don’t have an address, you aren’t eligible, and so I continued on my way home.
A man named Joe picked me up and asked me if I wanted to get high. I told him yes but thought to myself that it would surely kill me. He pulled out what he described as
“really good sensimilla.” We stopped and smoked together and everything in my life seemed to become clearer. I knew that I had nowhere to go; I doubted I was wanted at home, and I had no future. This was it. -- To read just the rest of the story purchase the book here or you can download free versions. 

Click here for a 'Memoirs' Photo Album 

​It’s all about the journey—how to accept it and the choices we make.