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 Category:  Biographical Non-Fiction
  Posted: July 1, 2017      Views: 117
Chapters:
Prologue 1 2 3 4... 

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 ABOUT
BILL SCHOTT 

Retired Marine; retired high school teacher; married 33 years; father of three; five grandchildren; one rescue granddog.

He is a top ranked author at the #25 position.

He is an accomplished novelist and is currently at the #30 spot on the rankings.

He is an accomplished script writer and is currently at the #5 spot on the rankings.

He is an accomplished poet and is currently at the #60 spot on this years rankings.

He is also an active reviewer and is holding the #26 spot on the top ranked reviewer list.

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Prologue of the book Memoir
a true story
"A Dad" by Bill Schott


My father was a frightening man to his family. When he came home from work my siblings and I would run out the back door and try to disappear. If we didn't make it in time we knew that we would get yelled at for something. Dad never attended a function of mine at school, encouraged me in my interests, or took me places for fun.

I don't recall him ever telling me he loved me. It doesn't mean he didn't; he just wasn't one to say it. I find that in total, my most frequent memories of my dad are of his yelling at one of us.

And yet, I always wanted to please him. It was partially out of respect, but mostly because I feared him. He was a man who hollered a lot. As a result, I developed a great respect for authority.

I remember he would always rise at dawn. If he wasn't on his way to work at Buick, he was resuming a project at home. I recall one morning, a Saturday, he was mowing the lawn. I heard the mower, but was too tired to get up. My father finally came into my room and yelled coldly, "Don't you have a conscience?" I jumped out of bed and took over the mowing. As a result of this incident and others, I have always tried to be a good, dependable worker.

He was known as a good friend and a good neighbor. I found that he was helpful and generous to everyone. I don't think I'd get an argument from any of my brothers or sisters if I were to say that he treated other people, even total strangers, better than he treated his own family.

When I was grown and on my own I realized that he had taught me many things which I carry with me today. He taught me the value of hard work, and being friendly and helpful to others. He taught me to shoulder responsibility for my life and my family. I learned not to lie or blame others or circumstances, if I fall short some times.

After our mom died, whom my dad thought would survive him, we discovered that he had saved up a hundred thousand dollars to have her cared for in a rest home. He gave that money to his children, over the course of the next year. That enabled us to buy the home we live in now.

In the end, my dad was still the same. He would work hard as long as he could, snap at people frequently, and give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.

 

True Story contest entry

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