I was born in a small town in Northern California named Alturas, in June of 1968. My dad wasn't there to see my birth, he was in the Air-Force and was deployed in Vietnam. As the story goes though, when mom went into labor with me, dad woke up in his barracks room with terrible stomach pains about the same time.
I was the youngest of three boys, and also the smallest. I took after my dad, tall and skinny, but when it came to his muscles, I took after my mom.
My two older brothers were named James (Jim), and David (Dave). Jim was born eight years before Dave, and I came along two years after that. The eight year age gap wasn't intentional. Mom always wanted to have three children but she had a miscarriage during her second pregnancy, and it took her some time to get over that loss. In a lot of ways, my life existed only because of that miscarriage.
My mom was a stay at home wife. Her maiden name was Sharon Catherine Kormier. She had a beauticians license, but she gave it up to raise her boys.
My dad was a hick from the hills of Virginia. His name was Morris Wayne Blick. His family share cropped a peanut farm. He was the youngest sibling of 13 brothers and sisters, and he dropped out of high school at the age of 17 to join the Air-Force.
My parents were very religious. My dad was a high elder in his church, and we attended services every Sunday. Dad would preach, and then we'd go home and have moms roast beef that she had been slow cooking in the crock pot since 5am. When you entered the house, the smell was intoxicating.
I was blessed to have had two such wonderful parents. But even the most ideal upbringing can't fully prepare you for all of the obstacles that life is going to through your way.
