A Piece of My History

Where to begin.. . . reflecting on my upbringing and the seires of events, choices, and people that have brought me to where I am today leads me to that question. There's the life everyone thinks they see, and the real life that occurs behind closed doors. When I was 8 years old our family - Mom, Dad, 3 girls and baby boy - moved from Palm Desert, CA to Hemet, CA. Not a big move. These two cities are an hour's drive apart, yet the cultures of these cities were vastly different. My dad was seeking somewhat of a new life, an escape if you will, from who he was in that desert tourist town. We had lived year-round in a place that most people only spent anywhere from a weekend to 4-5 months retreating from cold, hard weather. November through April it was ideal weatherwise, but the rest of the months were downright scorching and we spent most days from morning to dark in the pool. My dad was the golf pro at a swanky golf club/course called Del Safari. He was a gifted athlete, and golf was his sport of choice, followed closely by baseball. His life so far was a crazy, complicated one, and at the time of our move my mom was his third wife and we were his third set of kids, too. The community of Hemet embodied more of the family values I think he was seeking to embrace (or use as a cover?). There were also many horse ranches in this more agrarian place, and my dad in a effort to get back to some of his roots wanted to move in a vocational direction that invloved his love for horses - and eventually horseracing.

So, our family moved into a sprawling home, on an acre lot, in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town. We were considered "rich kids" from day one. My dad made as modest income as a golf-pro, but his real money came from his side profession of bookmaking. Part of the reason I think we left Palm Desert was he had been getting the message from the local authorities, "get out of town." So, my dad made his way into the horseracing business, yet kept the bookmaking going to support us until the ponies started paying off. However, our mormon neighbors (or anyone else for that matter) had no idea of the bookie business going on in the basement of our new home, known as 'dad's office'. My parents never really spoke openly of his bookmaking and by the time I was of the age that kids on the playground began sharing what their dad's did for a living, my answer of "he owns racehorses" always brought a interesting response - from other kids and teachers alike.

Ok - more to come later.