PROLOGUE
On Wednesday, June 18, 2003, my soul mate, my one true love, died in a nursing home at the age of 61, twenty-four years after I had last seen him. His sister Barb contacted me because it was his last wish that I know of his forthcoming demise. But I knew it already because I had been thinking of Stephen for the past several weeks, and on that Wednesday I had a strong feeling of unexplainable closeness to him. Today, June 27, 2003, they interred his ashes in a family plot in New Braunfels, Texas, with only 10 family members attending a small grave side memorial. Twenty-four years after I had last seen him, and eighteen years after our last contact, I learned that my precious Stephen Lombardo had orchestrated my "dumping" him when he was convicted of murdering an off-duty policeman. Stephen knew he would die inside the prison walls to which he was confined, and he did not want to put me through "that" again. Stephen knew just which buttons to push so I would willingly forego the heartbreaking visits to a prison over the ensuing years. I had done it before and had been instrumental in his becoming a free man.
You see, Stephen had been in prison once before and had a penchant for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Stephen was not a bad person. Stephen was not a criminal. Stephen was an unfortunate product of not being loved enough and becoming mixed up with drugs and alcohol, until ultimately fate dealt him the blow of all blows; the guy who was beating the crap out of him, the guy with the hair-trigger pistol, that guy was an off-duty cop who just had the habit of beating up people for the hell of it.
The first incarceration was not the fault of Stephen either, other than being in the company of someone with a sawed-off shotgun who happened to blow half a leg off a policeman who was busting them for drugs. It looks bad, really bad when you see it in black and white. It looks as if Stephen had it in for cops, but he did not. Stephen was the kindest, most gentle man I have ever known, and he always had a smile for his friends. He was just addicted to speed, meth, crank, whatever it was called, and that, and alcohol, in the long run, were his downfall.
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The 70s Were Rich With Excitement
The Seventies were a turbulent time for baby boomers. Seeking to find the meaning of life and exploring their world and relationships became an obsession for many. Even the generation of today looks back on the 70s as a time of discovery and fulfillment. Faces Against the Wind is set in those turbulent times. Now you can relive the experiences of Stephen and his Sweet Baby Kat in Faces Against the Wind, A Memoir. |
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