My name is Noel Allen. I am sixty-three. I was born in Jamaica, West Indies. I attended St. Aloysius Boy's School, St George's
College evening classes, studied privately, and was successful at G. C. E. "O" Level. I hold a certificate in Trade Unionism from the Trade Union Institute, University of the West Indies, at Mona; a certificate in Fire Fighting from the U.S. Navy Fire Department; a certificate in Supervision and Management from the U.S. Naval School at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba; a diploma in writing from the Institute of Children's Literature; a diploma in Economics from the Henry George School of Social Science; a Fire Safety Director's certificate from John Jay College of Criminal Justice; a B. Sc. in Industrial Relations from Greenwich University; a M. A. in Sociology from Harrington University.I am married. I have seven children.I am a Christian.Hobbies: gardening, and reading.The story is about struggle. It starts the day my mother abandoned me, when I was just an infant, in the ghettos of Kingston, Jamaica. It recounts the mental and physical abuse I suffered while living with my surrogate father and his common law wife; and the sexual abuse that was perpetrated on me, when I was eleven, by a Roman Catholic priest. It shows how I escaped the clutches of ghetto gangs and went on a remarkable journey: U.S. Naval Base at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, where I worked as a Fire Fighter; Nassau, Bahamas, where I got involved with drug dealers, eventually becoming a seaman. I eventually ended up back in Jamaica, where I became a cop, then a convict. After my release, I worked with Goodyear Tire Company as a driver, clerk, and manager. One day my older brother just walked into my life, inveigled me to leave the job and join him in Canada; I did, and suffered a big disappointment and financial debacle. I ended up in Jamaica, worked as a Technical Clerk, and car park manager. I got married, and became a Jehovah's Witness. I managed a sugar warehouse, farm, and gas station. I lost my job and resorted to farming. After years of riding out the waves of violence in Kingston, I left Jamaica and came to America. Within days of my arrival, my brother-in-law threw me on the streets of New York City. I slept in parks, abandoned buildings, and shelters. I eventually got a job in the White House hotel, where I worked as a janitor; later becoming a Fire Safety Director. I left the job and became a flea market vendor. I eventually bought a house. Within months I was involved in a motor vehicle accident, suffered years of pain; and developed psychiatric problems. The story ends with my becoming an American citizen. The book was featured in the June 27, 2007 edition of The New York Daily News. Email:duuulllie@yahoo.com