From the Author-

Sometimes a person’s path will lead them to a place where they feel a need to change its trajectory. That’s where I was in 2014, when an illness and other life events caught my conscious attention. I realized I wanted to start doing more on a personal level, something meaningful. I had done some writing and people said, “you should write a book.” I had no clue producing a novel that someone might actually want to read was a formidable task.  Then, I began experiencing a recurring, early-life memory of sitting on the front porch on a fall weekend morning with Claude, my grandfather. He was of Choctaw descent. We didn’t really talk much, but I treasured those times. When sitting next to him, I felt safe and significant. 

Claude was the manager of the Sunkist Citrus Packing Plant in Lindsay, California. Years before, he sold his cattle ranch and rode his horse from Texas to Enid, Oklahoma, to ask a young Cherokee-Irish schoolteacher named Nellie for her hand in marriage. They knew each other only by mail. She accepted his proposal, and they moved, with her widowed mother, to Lindsay, California, where he built their home and raised three daughters. Pauline, my mother, was the oldest. Now I was sitting on the porch with him, listening to the birds singing, waving at passers-by walking under the fall-colored trees. We heard the voice of my grandmother announcing that the breakfast of biscuits, eggs, and sausage was on the table. But uncharacteristically, Claude remained seated. Then, he looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Davey, there’s only one thing you can take with you when you leave this earth, and that’s how you’ve affected the lives of others.” With that, we stood up and walked silently to the breakfast table. It would take years for me to fully appreciate those words and the integrity that formed them. But finally, they led me to produce this first unusual and surprising story-first as a book and later as a screenplay. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed bringing it to life.