Showing results by author "David Boyer" in All Categories

I know what a true travesty of justice is - from personal experience. In March of 2003, while still struggling with an alcohol addiction, I was arrested for a DUI - and my life was turned completely upside down for the next two and half years. You'd have thought I'd committed murder. Before I continue, please allow me to let the listener of this story know that yes, I fully understand the possible consequences of operating a motor vehicle while intoxicated. But in my case, nobody was hurt. Except me, that is.

Like the previous volumes, I'm sure there will be something in here for everybody. Whether it be a pleasant memory from your childhood or a sad memory that taught you a valuable lesson, or something funny to brighten up your gloomy day; I am pretty confident you will find it here. And as always, I had a real blast sitting back and creating some memories for you.

One thing rings true about all substance abusers - whether it be alcohol or drugs or both - at one point in time, they will tell you two things: I don't have a problem. I can quit anytime I want to. Which, of course, is far from the truth. Once that demon is on your back, weighing you down day after day and week after week and month after month and year after year, the option you once had to stop on your own is long gone now.

Whether it is sex, religion, politics, gay rights, BLM, COVID-19, or anything else you might find to be "uncomfortable" subjects to be discussing in social media, I pull no punches. If you are the type of person who enjoys and appreciates hearing the truth about important subject matters, then listen to this audiobook.

The neck is one of the most vulnerable parts of the human body. It can be slashed, twisted, snapped, or held in a vise until the owner either passes out or asphyxiates. Darren Deon Vann learned a lot about anatomy while surfing the internet. He wasn’t all that smart, but he wasn’t the dullest quill on the porcupine, either.

As one nation - under God - we can defeat this and bounce back. But only if we keep the faith and never, ever, allow anyone or anything to make us lose sight on what's important again: our freedoms of human contact. A hug or warm embrace. A tender kiss. The touch of a hand. A shoulder to cry on. Hearing our loved one's voices again - in person. Social gatherings instead of social media. Gathering in our places of worship to thank the one and only almighty God in Heaven for what we have because of his love and grace for us no matter how bad our sins may have been in our past.

In the late 1970s, at the height of the disco club scene's popularity, little did anyone know it, but a silent, invisible killer known as HIV would soon cause not only a nationwide panic, but an increase in sexual freedom, believe it or not. With such a deadly and wide spread killer on the loose - transmitted primarily by sexual contact - then why the increase in sexual promiscuity?

I think almost everyone has had a first true love or a bad case of puppy love - or a case of “infatuation” as my mother would have called it - but regardless of the extent of these feelings, it still leaves you pretty messed up for a while. I have had several “infatuations” in my day, one of them being a beautiful young woman named Terri, whom I still think about from time to time. As a matter of fact, more often than not, I think about her at least 30 seconds of each day.

I have assembled a vast collection of my favorite stories from my Growing Up in Vincennes series of books, volumes one through five, for this audiobook, dedicated to my mother, who always encouraged me to become a writer.

All of the stories in this audiobook are important to me. All of them stem from my own personal memories and life experiences growing up here in Vincennes. Whether good or bad memories it doesn't matter; they were all a big part part of my life growing up here, and none of them are any less important than the next one. What I've found to be really interesting - and even a bit flattering at times, too - was the fact that I've always managed to spark a happy memory for my listeners within my first three volumes.

These days - in the age of the internet and so called “social networking” - the seemingly bold actions of my own generation seem very mild in comparison. Now days, two kids that think they're in love send each other sexually explicit text messages - known as “sexting” - complete with nude photos taken with their cell phone cameras.

Abby Williams and Libby German. Their voices have been silenced forever now, except for home videos or memories. Abby and Libby need a voice again, so now it is up to their families - and the rest if us who want justice for these girls - to create a new voice for them, to tell their story, and never stop our voices from speaking up until the man responsible is behind bars forever.

Kids and teens who bully need our support and compassion just as much - if not more at times - than the victims of bullying. If we want bullying to stop, or at least slow down, we need to begin helping them to grow up learning how to interrelate with others without any harassment or manipulation on their part, to fit into society, not doling out meaningless, so called "punishments" that will most likely make their overall attitude even worse.

July, 1975. Vincennes, Indiana. It was the summer of '75. A time of killer sharks at the movies - Alice Cooper's Nightmare and Star Trek: A Technical Manual - none of which really appealed to me, but then, I wasn't part of the pop culture "in" crowd. Fortunately, I wasn't alone.

On December 24, 2019, after almost six years of being an in home caregiver for my mother, it suddenly all came to an abrupt ending when my mother had to be admitted to the hospital - and then a nursing home - for her own good. One would think a man in my position would have felt at least a certain amount of relief, knowing in his heart that she was better off in the hands of trained employees who could give her 24-hour care, which I myself could not provide. What happened to me over the next few weeks all came crashing down on me at the same time.

This volume - just like the second volume - is somewhat different in theme than the first one. Whereas the first volume featured a variety of subjects, some of them even having to do with world events, this volume tends to lean in a totally different direction, some of the stories focusing on subjects more personal to us all, the stories more humble or grounded in the reality of life no matter how hard it may to deal with at times.

I always enjoy looking back on my memories of growing up in Vincennes, Indiana. No matter how many things change as the years fly by, I will always look back fondly upon my time here in V-Town, and I hope this series of stories will spark a happy memory for you, too. Regardless of how these stories may affect you, I am sure that everyone in my hometown will find something in these sections to make you smile.

When Aileen and her brother were little kids, they thought their grandparents were their real parents. Truth was, their father was a satanist and child molester who hung himself in prison. Their mother was a whore who abandoned them when they were barely out of diapers. But that was nothing compared to what awaited her out in the real world.

Dolores Oliver, fondly nicknamed "Lert" by her friends as a term of endearment, was out an outgoing and friendly woman who was well liked by all who knew her. Yet, on September 7, 1974, while on a visit to a local bar to chat with friends, she simply vanished without a trace. Foul play was immediately suspected by her family, who knew in their hearts that they could think of absolutely no one who would want to do her any harm. Yet her lifeless body was found at the end of October in a bean field by a farmer in Illinois.

As of 2015, it is believed that there are at least 200 serial killers active in the United States at any given time - 33 of them were from Indiana. Nobody in their own home town would have wanted to imagine a fledgling serial killer lurking about, searching for his next victim. Or imagine one being their next door neighbor or the relative of a friend or even attending the local college. Yet, since the early 1970s, Vincennes, Indiana, Knox County, and Indiana in general has had it's share of cold blooded murder.