From the streets, to college, to the military, author Reginald L. Bullock, raised by a single mother, survived many challenges and life-altering experiences. In Father to Son, he shares his story of how growing up without a father left a void in his life. Targeted toward young men who are not being raised with their fathers, those who need male guidance in their life, and for those who cannot find the right path to manhood, Father to Son addresses the issues and problems faced by today’s young men. From a father-to-son perspective, Bullock gives guidance and direction on topics such as guns, gangs, drugs, law violations, homosexuality, communication, friendship, religion, mothers, health and fitness, education, and sex. Father to Son helps young men find balance in their lives through the important tenets of integrity, courtesy, respect, ethics, and others. Based on his personal experiences, Bullock gives helpful information and offers advice on how to cope with and get through the difficult years of adolescence without falling into the trap of negativity and bad decision making.

Father To Son

A Guide To Growing Up In A Difficult WorldBy Reginald L. Bullock

Writers Club Press

Copyright © 2002 Reginald L. Bullock
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-595-21673-4

Contents

PREFACE..............................................xiINTRODUCTION.........................................1Chapter 1 Guns.......................................7Chapter 2 Gangs......................................17Chapter 3 Drugs......................................27• Alcohol.......................................27• Cigarettes....................................30• Illegal Drugs.................................33• Selling Drugs.................................34• History.......................................36Chapter 4 Law Violations.............................39Chapter 5 Homosexuality..............................45Chapter 6 Communication..............................51Chapter 7 Problems and Struggles.....................63Chapter 8 Friendship.................................71Chapter 9 Religion...................................79Chapter 10 Mothers...................................93Chapter 11 Health and Fitness........................103Chapter 12 Hygiene...................................113Chapter 13 Sex.......................................123Chapter 14 The Game..................................129• PREAMBLE......................................130Chapter 15 Tenets....................................141Chapter 16 Education.................................147• READING.......................................151• THE EDUCATIONAL SYSTEM........................153• TEACH YOURSELF................................155• PAY NOW—PLAY LATER......................157• FINAL WORDS...................................158Chapter 17 Ethnic Origin.............................159Chapter 18 Life and Death............................167Chapter 19 Words To Live By..........................173Chapter 20 For Your Information......................177• FYI–1...................................177• FYI–2...................................177• FYI–3...................................178• FYI–4...................................179• FYI–5...................................180• FYI–6...................................181• FYI–7...................................182• FYI–8...................................183• FYI–9...................................184• FYI–10..................................185Conclusion...........................................187ABOUT THE AUTHOR.....................................189Bibliography.........................................193

Chapter One

Guns

Son, on this day I am writing this sentence, you are now four years old and happy. You take one day at a time and seem to live as if the world is a playground. When I was four, I lived in the projects—the Richard Allen Projects in North Philly. My mother made sure I knew my address in case of an emergency. I still remember it to this day, it was 703 A Jessup Place, off of Brown street. Our unit was on the first floor, which allowed us to get robbed every now and then, and my mother could do nothing about it. Although my mother seldom allowed us to see her crying or her feelings hurt, in reflecting on the past, I am sure she cried often. At least once a week, the gang, Wallace Street, and the one whose turf I lived on, 1–2–P (Twelfth and Poplar), would fight over something or another. Sometimes I could hear the bullets bouncing off of the trash dumpster. My mother would come and get us when that happened. One time (I think 1967) I got a toy machine gun for Christmas called a Defender Dan that shot real plastic bullets. I must have been either naive or crazy, but I mounted it on its tripod stand, put my helmet on along with a camouflage jump suit that I also received for Christmas, loaded the belt of plastic ammo, and began shooting in the direction of the oncoming real bullets. Needless to say, my mother snatched me up and brought me into the house.

Son, never play in the midst of oncoming bullets. In retrospect, I could have been killed on several occasions right in front of my own home. I guess it was my destiny to grow up and have children of my own.

All guns have many purposes, but the number one purpose that seems to out weigh them all is that guns are designed to kill. The bottom line is, if you shoot and hit something alive with a gun, there is a good chance it will not be alive for long. Although I have never shot anyone with a gun, I have and do carry a gun from time to time for protection. I purchased my first gun (Smith & Wesson 44 Magnum) in 1985 while residing in Hampton Virginia due to a burglary. Someone broke into our house and stole several expensive items, as well as all of our jewelry. That same day, I purchased my gun and a home security system, just in case they returned for what they did not get. The next night they did return. Fortunately for them, the alarm system got them, instead of me.

As a child in the Projects, I could do nothing but feel bad for my mother because there was no man in the house to protect us. As an adult, I was going to defend my family and property against any intruder. Son, you have the right, as a man, to protect yourself and family against any aggression. Whether you are four years old or seventy–four, I want you to always carry a sense of honor and dignity, knowing that you are responsible for your family. As a father, I charge you with that responsibility.

Years later at the age of 11, I became a Boy Scout and learned how to handle and shoot a gun and rifle safely. We learned all the parts of the gun, and most importantly, we learned respect for the gun. Target shooting became fun and challenging as a sport. In May of 1982 I joined the Air Force and learned not only how to sight in and shoot an M–16 rifle, but how to take it apart, clean it, and put it back together. This added a new dimension to my knowledge and respect for the gun. A gun is a tool, and like any tool its intended use is in the hand of the user. If the user chooses to shoot paper targets, game food, or humans it is all in their hands and mind.

In 1983 I joined the Rod and Gun club at Sembach Air Base, Germany, where I learned about shot guns. I also learned how to shoot the games of skeet and trap. While I did fairly well shooting skeet, I was terrible at trap. My favorite gun to shoot with for skeet was the Remington 1100 automatic. Although shooting skeet was fun, for an Airmen First Class it was expensive, so I could not shoot consistently twice a week to become very proficient. I was only 21 at the time, so most of the older guys looked out for me. Some even gave me free ammo and clay pigeons because they knew I did not have much money. Later on in the book I will devote some time to the subject of racism; however, I would like to point out to you that I was the only black person in the club. Yes, the club had a lot of so–called Red Necks, but they treated me with respect, and looked out for me.

Around October 1987, my wife purchased me a 30–06 Remington 7600 pump rifle for hunting purposes. I was really proud of that gun. I cleaned it all the time just so I could hold it. Every once in a while I would take it to the Shinnecock Indian Reservation for target practice and sighting in the scope. My brother–in–law and father–in–law, the late Ferdinand Lee, would also go with...