Albert S Stanley JacksonBorn to a single Sicilian mother in Germany, my family moved to America when I was eleven years old.The first of many states I will come to live in is Georgia. This is when I am introduced to the "southern" dialect. Taught British English, I learned uickly that I did not speak "American." These impressionable years are when my love of writing is born. I am grateful to have experienced the colorful and homespun stories and phrases shared by the older women who sat shelling butter beans on front porches while whimsically retelling epic tales told to them by their grammies. I admired the tobacco-spitting grandpas who sat in their rocking chairs whittling as they spoke lovingly, tenderly and respectfully of the wife they had lost five years prior.The comforting smells, sights, and sounds you can only experience in the country give credence to the safe and secure feeling of living amongst the hardworking people who always find time to thank God for the bounty they enjoy daily. This is a world I never dreamed existed, yet here it is for me to bask in and learn lessons no book can teach, no television will ever replicate, nor google search, explain.I cannot imagine the man I would be today had I not been given the privilege and honor of growing up among such values lovingly taught and displayed by neighbors and friends.I feel the desire and need to write for all these reasons and many more. I believe, much like the stories told on the creaky old wooden porches, mine too are meant to be shared and enjoyed; the price of admission? A heartfelt smile. If by the end of the story, my readers have shared the beautiful experiences life has so fortunately bestowed upon me, then I have done my job. Read More Read Less