Tag Archive: Knowledge


“My Name Is Legion: For We Are Many – A Judgment Is Coming!”



Gregory V. Boulware


“Will You Be My Angel?”

~ “The Origin of Evil and The Agency of Evil Spirits” ~

‘The fact that men have possessed with demons, is clearly stated in the New Testament. The persons thus afflicted were not merely suffering with disease from natural causes. The “Son of Man, Yahushawah/Christ/The Prophet had understanding of that with which he was dealing, and He recognized the direct presence and agency of evil spirits.”

Thus God’s people, exposed to the deceptive power and unsleeping malice of the prince of darkness, and in conflict with all the forces of evil, are assured of the unceasing guardianship of heavenly angels; nor is such assurance given without need. If God has granted to His children promise of grace and protection, it is because there are mighty agencies of evil to be met – agencies numerous, determined, and untiring, of whose malignity and power none can safely be ignorant of unheeding.

Evil spirits, in the beginning created sinless, were equal in nature, power, and glory with the Holy beings that are now God’s messengers. But fallen through sin, they are leagued together for the dishonor of Yahuwah/E-Lo-Heem/God/Allah/Jehovah (and whatever name you use to describe God) and the destruction of men. United with Satan in his rebellion, and with him cast out from ‘Heaven,’ they have, through all succeeding ages, co-operated with him in his warfare against the divine authority. We are told in Scripture of their confederacy and government, of their various orders, of their intelligence and subtlety, and of their malicious designs against the peace and happiness of men.

The hosts of darkness saw that they did not possess unlimited control, and they understood that if The “Son of Man, Yahushawah/Christ/The Prophet mission was successful; their rule was soon to end.

“The fact that men have been possessed with demons is clearly stated in the New Testament”

 None are in greater danger from the influence of evil spirits than those who, notwithstanding the direct and ample testimony of the Scriptures, deny the existence and agency of the devil and his angels. So long as we are ignorant of their wiles, they have almost inconceivable advantage; many give heed to their own wisdom. Satan is working his greatest power to deceive and destroy, he spreads everywhere the belief that he does not exist. It is his policy to conceal himself and his manner of working.

We carefully secure our houses with bolts and locks to protect our property and our lives from evil me; but we seldom think of the evil angel who are constantly seeking access to us, and against whose attacks we have, in our own strength, no method of defense. If permitted, they can distract our minds, disorder and torment our bodies, destroy our possessions and our lives. Their only delight is in misery and destruction.

Satan can most readily control the minds of those who are unconscious of his influence, that the word of Yahuwah/E-Lo-Heem/God/Allah/Jehovah (and whatever name you use to describe God) gives us so many examples of his malignant work, unveiling before us his secret forces, and thus placing us on guard against his assaults.

“The Wicked One Cannot Break Through The Guard Which God Has Stationed About His People!”

Pride in his own glory nourished the desire for supremacy. The high honors conferred upon Lucifer/Baal were not appreciated as the gift of God and called forth no gratitude to ‘The Creator.’ He gloried in his brightness and exaltation, and aspired to be equal with God. He was beloved and reverenced by the ‘Heavenly Host.’ Angels delighted to execute his commands, and he was clothed with wisdom and glory above them all. Yet ‘The Son of God’ was the acknowledged ‘Sovereign of Heaven,’ one in power and authority with ‘The Father.’ In all the councils of God, Christ was a participant, while Lucifer/Baal was not permitted thus to enter in to the divine purposes.

“With our world in such disarray, with so little time left (disregard for Human Life and the World Life around us), we don’t have time to bash religions or people of ideas – WE ONLY HAVE TIME TO DISCOVER THE TRUTH BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!

By now, many of you have already received this message within the pages of ‘The Wordly Gift From Remnant Publications – “The Great Controversy – Past, Present, Future!”

Angel sightings have been reputed to come or appear in and around many world locations. In all shapes and sizes, an avalanche of sightings has been reported as “Spirits of Light, Fleet and Airy, or as Spirit Helpers in Flesh – Mysterious Strangers,” writes Michael H. Brown, in his book “The Trumpet of Gabriel.”

History has recorded visions, prophecies, predictions, and chastisements – received by men, women, and children. They have appeared with messages while arriving with swords, wings, and other weaponry. Many of them came as the early churches began to take form. The came when Rome was under siege. It’s been said Angel’s accompanied the “Black Death” in the social uprisings of Europe as well. Whether or not – if we do or do not heed their warnings or messages; major intervention and supernatural events have been recorded and witnessed while spiritual agitation and coming change is inevitable. Food for thought is the simple practice of spirituality in everyday life by everyday human beings. A tradeoff has occurred where spiritualistic disconcertion has swapped health and “Holy Spirituality” for materialism. Idolatry of money and selfishness come with a price.

The Great Controversy_8.29.15 TheSpiritoftheSoul_1.11.12





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~To Soar Upon Mighty Wings~

Soaring Eagle_2.10.15


Gregory V. Boulware


…He was running. He ran and ran until he thought his heart would explode along with his burning lungs. The air felt like it was on fire with every gasp for oxygen.

The dark dank and urine smelling streets offered no sanctuary. The footfalls of his pursuers were not far behind. They didn’t blow whistles but yelled back and forth to each other. Their clicking, clanking, jingling of metal, wood, and plastic made their distinctive noises as the chase unfolded. “Head him off down the back alley Roger! I’ll cut him at the other end!”

Running and running some more, he knew not where he was or where to run next. The darkened alley allowed for some cover and protection. A doorway guided an entrance to a rotted and broken stairway planks. They led upward. Up and farther up, he climbed. The chasing danger was far behind by now. They could not find him. He was standing atop the bombed-out building looking down upon them. Them who are adorned in blue and black attire with shiny and sparkling ornaments attached; some were silver and some were golden colored. The gold ones were attached to beltline of everyday clothing while the silver or tin was attached to the assigned blue colored pockets of the pursuer’s chests.

Gazing over the edge of the roof, he saw them angrily and frantically searching. They were searching but afraid to enter and climb the rotting moldy stairs of the dark and foreboding bombed-out building. His fear encouraged him to climb those stairs and step out onto the twelve story roof.

Over the edge, the ledge yielded a nest of yellowish-beige colored orbs. The rounded things were large in size yet smaller than a basketball. He handled the eggs with tender care, for they felt warm and inviting to touch. He felt the need to hold them close, to protect them. He didn’t know why.

Wrapping the three tenderly and carefully inside of his heavy winter coat, he started for the stairs downward; heading home. Something, someone placed an unwelcomed, unexpected hand upon his left shoulder. Startled, he attempted to sprint for the doorway leading to the down stairway. The hand morphed into a grip and then another.

The great and strong gripping kept him from leaving; from moving; from going home.

“Where are you going with them eggs boy?” said a strange and menacing voice. Without turning to see who was questioning him along with the powerful restraining, he replied, “I’m going home to take care of these babies!”

“Babies?” the voice queried. “Those are not babies! They is our breakfast!”

A power came over him. A power he did not recognize gave him the courage and the confidence to defy his would-be usurpers.

Before he had realized there were four assailants, the vision of them flying backward and being caught by the blacktop filled his every waking sight. They lay bleeding, bent, and broken. The fourth was flung from the roof and resting dead in the refuse dumpster down below. The ‘Green-Beret’ martial arts training seemed to work all on its own in fatal defense of him and his newly found babies.

The eagles grew over time. They had never flown nor had an inkling or desire to do so. The natural God given strength and beauty subliminally continually urged them to leave the sanctity of the backyard coup. They were beautiful and powerful young egrets. The sky beckoned – freedom beckoned; the wind called loudly.

The other fowl of chicken, parrot, finch, pigeon, and tweety, wondered who and what kind of bird the three were. They did not know what they were. All they knew was the love, caring, and respect shared and reciprocated herein. They were brothers and sisters. They took care of one another. They protected one another. The small ones could get in and out of small crevices in retrieval of food and unreachable desires for the larger ones who could not. The dog, wolf, fox, and any other threat, enemy, or predator dared not venture into their peaceful and loving domicile, least while their three larger than life brothers stood about. “They kept us all safe – everything and everyone remained apprehensive or aloof if only for their opulent stature.”

The three eagles did pretty much what the other did around the house. But something told them they were destined for something more.

A large shadow crossed their brow while out in the daytime. They looked up and saw a magnificent sight. “What a sight to behold?” shouted one of the three eagle brothers. “What is it?” asked the others. “It looks like us!”

“How can you tell?” asked one of the family members. “It’s so high up and far away, I can hardly see it!” exclaimed the chicken.

“We can see it plainly, as if it was standing right next to us!” said one of the sharp eyed eagle brothers. The man said, “He is of your kind, my children. He like you, is majestic…he is an Eagle!” he said with pride and a broad smile on his face. “You are destined to soar as he does. He, like you, is the ‘King of The Sky – The King of Birds! I’ve raised you here to protect you and keep you safe from harm – today is the day that you must ride the clouds and answer the call.”

The man began to undo the sky-screen keeping them enclosed in the yard area with the other fowl of the yard. The three brothers began to stretch and flap their eight-foot long wings. They began to emulate the king bird above.

“Oh This Feels Great – It Feels Magnificent – Oh What Power We Feel – It’s Simply Glorious! Brother, We knew We Were More Than Yard-birds! We Knew There Was Something More To Us Than Meets The Eye – We Knew That We Were Not Chicken, Parrot, Finch, Pigeon, or Tweety – We Knew We Were/Are Eagles; Kings Of The Sky!”

A loud explosion sounded as the fence next to the wall of the house shattered into toothpicks. The cages and coups all fell over, allowing the sick and wounded fowl to wince, cry, yelp, scream, and squawk in pain, agony, and panic. The wardens and troopers charged, crashed, and stomped all over and through – in the name of search, seizure, rescue, arrest, and destroy.

“We know you’ve got a pot-farm in here! You’re a dope dealing slime! We know you robbed the neighborhood Micky D’s, gas station, donut shack, supermarket, and ‘Driving While Black!’ You’ve killed a man and assaulted his friends! You’re under arrest!”

They punched, kicked, and pushed the man who attempted to turn the other cheek. He could not.

The eagles were quick to the defense. The Game Wardens and Troopers were severely startled by the ‘larger-than-life’ avenging fowl. The first eagle flapped his massive wings and created a wind funnel with the power of an “F-3” tornado. Blowing several of the marauders, flinging them backward and out onto the street. The second eagle grabbed two intruders, one in each claw; and with little to no effort, flapped its mighty wings and flew high above the surrounding buildings and houses. The captive prey screamed to the top of their lungs as if being flipped and frightened by the highest and most powerful monster rollercoaster on the planet. Soaring high and fast, the mighty bird took a nose dive and like a bombardier, dropped the two full grown men into the city’s rain water reservoir which was four and a half miles away, over on 33rd Street. The third eagle stood with his eight and a half foot wingspan outstretched. The augmented stance greatly intimidated the remaining marauders. They reached for Nets, Tasers, Guns, Batons, and other available weapons of assault.

The eagle flashed his large bright and keenly sharp eyes. The fear of God overcame them. Two of them, noticeably, soiled the fronts of their pants while frozen with fright. The others in their fear and hatred continued the attempted rampage.

The man leaped into action. Three marauders where drop-kicked backwards out into the street,  while another with a gun in hand, was flipped over the right shoulder of the man and body-slammed on the cement ground. The sound of broken pottery and human bones filled the immediate air. The other happy and healthy yard-birds joined in on the mêlée in defense of their precious and beloved abode. They all managed to drive the intruders back and out into the street near their vehicles.

The news media discovered, reported, and filmed the warrantless assault on the man and his friends. All of the accusations were proven to be without merit and the charges were unfounded. The unreasonable attack and accusation was plotted and hatched by a corrupted evil member of the force who was reported for abusive tactics and harassment on multiple occasions for his indiscretions and blatant disregard for policing protocols in his personal vendetta and terroristic practices against those whom he regarded and believed to be undesirable and beneath him. His truncated reports have caused an undue rift between the responsible authoritative community and the community at large. The surreptitious deed was put to right with the resistance to injustice and bitter rancour.

The Eagles, who were raised with Chickens, soared on Mighty Wings of Truth and Justice with Glorious Pride alongside their fellow Sky-King – The Man was Free and Ran Away No More.

Til Next Time…




As Inspired By:

“Chicken and the Eagle(s)” – Spiritual Story / Parable by Unknown:

brought to life by

~ Dr. Molefi Asante~

“The Chicken Saw An Eagle”

~Gary Barnes~

~Haliaeetus leucocephalus~

The Eagle and the Chickens – A Story About Being Who You Are Meant to Be…


“I want to encourage you today that you are an eagle.

You may have been brought up in a situation that limited your understanding of your potential, but it’s time now for the past to lose its hold on you.

Don’t die thinking you’re a chicken.

Soar high, just as you were meant to.

Be all that you are meant to be!”


The Eagle in the Chicken Yard


~Amanda Bradshaw~

“When the eagle flapped his wings and realized he could fly, nothing could stop him. He knew he had the power and the means to go to the next level. I am sure the chickens looked at one another and thought, if he can do it so can I. Feel free to imagine what they looked like trying to fly from the barnyard.

You are an eagle in the chicken yard.  You know people will want to hold you back, but they will not. You know you are better than your circumstances. You know your path is not the same as others. When you know you are an eagle your breakthrough is only the beginning of all God has in store of you.  But don’t look down at the chickens!

God is able to do much more than we ask or think through His power working in us.”

(Ephesians 3:20)









~“Article Posting Sites”~


http://www.blogger.com/profile/10910946197037982583   http://www.BoulwareEnterprises.wordpress.com  













~The Connect Platform~



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Someone in a school class room asked, “Why do we have to have African Studies or a Black History Month? Why can’t we have an Asian, Italian, French, Jewish, Irish, Russian, Armenian, German, or Chinese history month?”
The answer that was given is… “Africans were enslaved and brought here to America in Chains! They’ve had their culture, Language, and lives ripped from them when they were snatched from their homes – they are the only group of people who were forced to come here…they did not come voluntarily to America. It was built on Free Slave Labor!”

“Across The Way”
Gregory V. Boulware

The preparations were under way…

The repast was hot, delicious, and plentiful. They had all eaten to their hearts content. Their gullets were stuffed full of revelry, joy, and family. Many could not participate in such fine raiment, delicacy, or domicile – for they had none.
Many jumped up and ran for the door. Some took naps and rested from their great ordeal with the plate, spoon, and fork. They, some, prepared for the morrow’s day of work and service, while many gathered their currency, plastics, and smart phones in readiness of the day called black. Some gave thanks while others did not. Because the lived across the way.

The day celebrating the great birth was festive. Many were concerned with those who had not while many simply walked over and away – stepped over obliviously, ignored and cast away. Albeit, much of it due to invisibility and wanton chosen-selective ignorance. Unemployment rested upon pins and needles too. The session of debate, decision, and a rush for the door was their only hope. Hopes were shattered, spat on, and trashed with the traversing footfalls of the end of session escape into oblivion. Their far away domiciles were kept hidden from the masses and the media – the eye of truth, justice, and liberty for all, especially for those on this side, across the way.

Lights of brilliance and babbles squinted and stretched wide the eyes of the pious and the marveled. They ran across the way to see what sparkled next, what was less or more expensive, the best, the biggest, and brightest or the most. After the acquiring of trinkets and loot were brought back to residences of glitter and preference, brought in through doorways, windows, and chimneys, all of which is not required or afforded across the way. In a word, they ran away and denounced such things as ludicrous – the words scribed in a pretty Good Book:
“This,” saith the Lord, “learn not the way of the heathen; for the heathen are dismayed at them, for the customs of the people are vain; for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of hands of the workman, with the axe. They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not. But, they are altogether brutish and foolish: the stock is a doctrine of vanities.”
~Jeremiah, Chp. 10~

Can you not see, o’ ye across the way?

The ball dropped and fell down the pole. They ran across the way to see… The newly entered year was seized with revel and joyous behavior. Will it be short lived? I think yes… The old and the weak stayed away from the celebration for fear of being trampled by the maddened crowd, in their attempt to get the best spot – across the way.

The people, who knew not what they do, boasted the image of Him with looks of falsehood. His head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were as a flame of fire. Trojan lands were under siege.
“I know thy works, and tribulations, and poverty, but thou art rich and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are the Jews, and are not, but are the Synagogue of Satan” – although Enoch walked with God across the way.

Cain dwelt in the land of Nod, east of Eden; the earthen giants were children of angels and the human female. The daughters of man were indeed fair.

Multitudes of the unemployed held hope by the throat in strained attempts to believe the elected would, sooner or later, do the right thing – for those across the way. They were running to get across the way – in pursuit, in a foolish attempt of evading the Most High, to escape from the avenging archangel in the night, or Satan himself – to catch the naked Black Man before he could reach the safety of freedom across the way.

The ones on the other side of the aisle stretched with strained limbs, reached out with portentous contention, endeavoring to show them the light of the righteous.
“Do not leave the session now – do not leave when we are needed the most – your homes are intact and well endowed. Is it not our duty, our responsibility to see to it that all are just as secure? Is it not our charge to provide so that they can make it over there, across the way? We beseech thee, to the last just and sober soul, come back inside and live up to the honor that has been bestowed upon thee; for the people, by the people, and for the people. Even if one creed does not support the other, the colloquial destiny is one.

Cherries and fantasy enfold the living belief of life inside the liquid crystal display. Several survivors of the dinner hour sit seated eagerly awaiting their turn to contribute his or her day’s experience. Parental loving pride casts a mighty beacon throughout the land of freedom town. The totality of the union, (for the moment), superlatively overwhelms the surrounding host of despair. The lack of oneness is the ultimate sacrifice mankind has submitted – given in to Satan. His power resides in the destruction of mankind. Many are duped into the following and faith of individuality, contempt, separation, and isolation of the masses. For as long as we are not capable of understanding and communication, how can there be total cohesion, peace, and equality amongst us? In believing that one is mightier than the other, better than your God – the curse bestowed upon those who built the ‘Tower of Babel,’ falls and spreads throughout the lands of the world, across the way; allowing Satan’s victorious smile.

Gladiators of the grid iron, hoop, and diamonds of dirt, ring of passion and rope, or Olympian trials are bestowed with greatness from admiring eyes. Richness and wealth has befallen them. Who is now the master and who is to be the servant? Cold cereal, shaving razors, soda pop, and beer is presented with scantily clad light and white complected females, boasting their breasts and bottoms with pride, supported by rich green dollars of slobbering alcohol drenched, back slapping neophytes and Neanderthals. Waitresses are pinched, kissed, and slapped in the name of jest, subtlety, and lust. Giant screen television with lifelike dramatizations and alienations saturate the horde of rampaging elbow-benders galore. The reach across the way was caught by the studious husband of a flirtatious wife, even though he had completed his condemned covenant breaking rendezvous, returning from across the way.

Griping and groaning, because the snow won’t stop falling when they wanted it to. Did the snow fall purposely to mess up their day, to ruin their plans? What are the benefits of snow while you work the shovel and throw the stuff over there – across the way? Have you been sick? Had a cold? What do you think happens to the spittle found all over the sidewalks when the old dirty snow is melted, shoveled, scooped, and piled over there – across the way?
Cars, buses, trucks, trains and planes have succumbed to the wrath of the winter’s inclement onslaught. Its highways and byways smothered in white fluff and icy-cold. The trees, many of them elderly, reluctant to bearing the weight of stuff falling on them from the sky. They’ve decided and were forced to bend and break and utilize suburban houses and support poles as buffers on their way downward to restful sidewalks and grounds, there across the way.

The humans, many of highly secured and “well-to-do” means, were suddenly and abruptly denied their basic needs. Never mind the ones who’ve lived their lives continually, without the things they take for granted.
The cold winds howled and blew. It huffed and puffed and blew everything down. Water pipes froze and burst. Many wiped their dry mouths lusting with thirst, for want of a glass of water. After several days, the agony began to drive them mad – to the brink of murder. The lights were off. The TV didn’t work. The Kindle would not fire due to the dead and dying batteries. Nowhere was any convenient every day, ordinary power of any kind. Transportation was no longer an optional package of consideration for them over there, across the way.

The car started up fine, but it was of no use, no good. There were no longer available amenities for the cute little cul-de-sacs that were now pools of plight and despair, brewing a pending inevitable platform for starvation. Hot, live electric wires and power lines were untouchable, unapproachable. No more matches, paper, or firewood was available for lighting warmth in the fireplace. The gas grill was empty of propane. The charcoal grill killed a few families who didn’t wish to freeze to death in the safety of their broken, busted, and exposed homes.
One guy wondered, “What did the Indians do? Are we going to die like the pilgrim settlers, leaving the safety of the sea going vessels that carried them here to the Americas? I remember that wagon train in the western time mountains – they got stuck in hundreds of feet of snow and began to eat each other for survival. What did they use for a cook fire? Where are the Indians when you need them? They could help us survive! Please, won’t somebody tell us what to do?”
Some of the residents were fortunate enough to make the shelter circuit. Two weeks in, the repair crews were indefatigable in their dedication of restoring power to the various out of town communities.

The heavy-set Black Man, a power company supervisor, addressed the derelict destitute and depraved semi-homeless vagrants. He paid them a cordial visit, simply to reassure them, and report the power teams’ daily progress. He wanted to let them know how soon they could begin to return to their homes. But that was not to be. Savage and unjustly attacked was he. They hit him with verbal assaults from any and every direction. They wanted satisfaction now – right now.

“You are telling a damned lie! We are tired of waiting for you slow moving useless and worthless jabber jaws!”

He tried in vain to calm the people, none of which who looked like him. When he could not bring peace and control to the raucous group, he reached for his belongings that had been taken from him. They stole his lunch box, books and papers he’d brought to the meeting, and grabbed for his outer clothing. They were confiscated as well. He bolted from the room screaming into his cell phone and radio for help that would never come. Losing the radio as he made his life saving escape, the rampaging entities of the helpless suburbanites with the appearance of chalk-faced zombies, turned on and began attacking each other. They could not see eye-to-eye, they could not reason with any inkling of sanity. They came from over there, across the way.

The wind, rain, snow, and ice stopped falling – then after six hours had past, began again for twenty-four more hours. It all stopped and subsided, then left completely. It was clear that someone, something was watching them. It, Them, She, or He was watching to see how the tables had turned – how the tide has fared… The One who is The Most High, the One who sat and watched them of means – when it is all gone. He saw what they did, how they did…from over there – across the way.

Til Next Time…

“Arc of the Prophet”


“Black Robbers”

“The Colour of the Old West”

“Black American Freedom Fighters” – “What Is A Man Who Does Not Make The World Better?”

“As The Clock Turns”

“The Black Book” – Pinterest


“Arc of the Prophet”

“Seeker of Wisdom, Truth, and Justice: BEREAN”

The Ghost Writer Interviews:
Hello and welcome to this candid and informal interview of up and coming writer/author, of titles like, “The Spirit of The Soul and The Death of Morals,” “Hallow” and “Anthology of An Essayist, Vols. 1 & 2” Gregory Vernon Boulware. Mr. Boulware has published several books and a plethora of online articles that embrace a host of genres. Join us in this three-part entertaining and enlightening visit with this awe inspiring author.

Thank you,

Your Online GhostWriter

Pt. 1
“A Visit with Mr. Gregory V. Boulware, Author”:

Hello and good morning to you Sir.

And to you Sir…as well.

Allow me to introduce to you all, Mr. Gregory V. Boulware, An Independent Self Published Author of Philadelphia, PA. Mr. Boulware has been published since 2007 while working for a Blue Bell, PA insurance company, when he decided to submit an article to a reputable online magazine.

Tell us about that experience Mr. Boulware.

Please call me ‘Greg.’ Since we’re going to be chatting for awhile, let’s not be so formal.

Certainly sir, we’d like nothing more than a simplistic comfort zone for the both of us.

Well, I was working as a ‘Database Insurance Analyst’ for an insurance company in Blue Bell, in a contractor capacity, when I wondered what would happen if someone hadn’t shown me how this all worked, you know, computers. The job that I was performing was basically updating and correcting data and information that was found to be in error. I was also diving for missing and lost data as well, hence the title, ‘Data-Miner.’ The performing duties where a multitask office position. You definitely had to know what you were doing in order to function in that type of job. What I mean is you needed a basic understanding of how informational systems worked. Many of the employees in this particular field have backgrounds as ‘key-punch operators’ or some type of cashier or office clerk training. But, the schools that I’ve attended taught a plethora of skills that limited or eliminated that ‘one-duty office task syndrome.’ I was taught nearly everything you needed to know in order to be proficient in an informational management environment.

So that all meant exactly what, Greg.

It meant that I was highly prepared to “hit the ground running” when I walked in the door! My formal education came to me a bit late in life. I was in my fifties when I discovered the information technology and management field. I was a (career) transportation professional for more than twenty-five years…and did make plans to stay in the industry. It was there that I decided to enhance my physical skills with that of some brain power. The only way to go and get it done was college. You see, back in the day, all you had to do to succeed was to know someone, work your way up from the bottom, and/or a formal education. If you had a baccalaureate degree, you were doing great…with an associate’s degree you did well there too. In fact, many folks only sought the associate degree because that was all you needed to get your foot in the door of management.

Is that what you were after, a management position?

Yes… Albeit, not at first. In the beginning of my transportation career, I was content with just being a driver. Oh yes, I was one the best damn drivers to ever bless a fleet. We had a lot of fun in those days. The job not only brought recognition, it brought respect to the playing field. The job was considered a highly skilled position. The driver licensing classification alone brought you to an elite status. You were considered the professional operator if your drivers license reflected a higher class than the average driver. I held a class-A license…and still do to this day. It’s an ego thing. It took many years of blood, sweat, and tears to acquire and maintain it without as much as a blemish for all these years. For me, it is an honor.

Anywho, upon my exit from the world of transportation, while attending collegiate classes, the world of information technology seemed to explode into view. I could see nothing more than a career in information management and technology. The enchantment with the rise and fall of transportation withered into smoke behind me as I got older and the supervisional doors became thicker, heavier, and harder to open. My driving days were over.

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Thank you for tuning in with the ‘Ghost Writer’ and this interestingly informative interview.

Take Care and May God Bless
GW, Online
Next, Part 2…

Still Water Lakes_1995

“Mountain Life”