The Ferguson Incident


The Ferguson Incident

My words cannot mean too much, but I feel them so I write them…

A young man lost his life in Ferguson, Missouri some months ago. The young man was black, nearly three-hundred pounds, high with pot and on some sort of personal rampage. He stole some cigarillos in a convenience store, shown on his exit via video tape as he brazenly and roughly shoved aside presumably the proprietor. He then walked defiantly alongside a cohort down the middle of a street.

Another young man, a white policeman tending to a police matter in the neighborhood, received word of the robbery and, after completing his other call, ultimately clashed physically with the young black man, and killed him with bullets fired from his service gun. There was first the angry denial of the young black man at the prospect of being arrested, and a fight ensued at the police cruiser. The young white policeman sustained injuries to his eyes and face. After warning shots to stop the fleeing young black man, the latter charged the policeman and was killed.

It was essentially the grand jury’s decision, after months of interviews, witness versions, sworn statements, audio, video, and forensic analyses, that the young white policeman killed the young black man in self-defense, that he should not be tried in the case. All of the evidence investigated by the Grand Jury is available for the public to view. Of course, all along the painstaking road to a GJ decision there was a media blitz, stirring the cauldron of divisiveness…giving, some believe, the race-spinners time to foment their intended anger and hatred.

One question lingers in my mind: under the same Ferguson circumstances, do any of the sane among us believe for a moment that an angry ‘hopped up’ white thug would be handled differently?

The first acknowledgement should be that a young man is tragically dead. A father and mother grieve for the wayward son, but they plead with the community and all citizens not to interfere with the ongoing investigation, to allow our United States system of justice to play out. If there is disagreement with the final verdict, it is a right to peacefully protest and make the counter-views known, but blind mob behavior, destroying businesses and autos by fire and looting stores are behaviors that must be handled through the criminal justice system. These are after all criminal acts and should be prosecuted. Otherwise, we sanction anarchy and destroy our democracy.

The second acknowledgement should be that there are those who live among us who cannot accept the tenets of a democracy… Here is where my tirade begins…

The United States has a couple of documents which are sacrosanct and inviolable – the Declaration of Independence and the United States Constitution. The first mentioned document gave our country independence from British rule. The second document was meant to be a legal blueprint for a democratic way of life, a binder, if you will, that secures the rights of all individuals and the due process of law.

When someone immigrates to the United States it is expected that the immigrant will learn the precepts of the Constitution, learn our language, adopt the freedoms and liberties accorded by the document without the abandonment of their own previous culture. Because the immigrant supposedly comes to the United States because he/she sees the opportunity for self-growth and achievement, sees the freedom to worship in the religion of their choice, sees the security given the citizens by the rule of law, it is expected that no person or group will convene to betray these underlying principles that our founding fathers set forth and that so many of our brave men and women have fought to preserve.

Sacrosanct documents and reality do not always go together.

There was once slavery in the United States, an economic way of life, a right by landowners to hold slaves to work their fields and, in many ways, to become an integral part of the owner’s family…though it did not always work that way.

That act of slavery was abolished by a brave and wise president named Abraham Lincoln, but not without a great civil war that killed so many young men and ate away so much of the US communal soul.

That was then, back in the eighteen hundreds! So many cannot and will not let that racial divide go. Are some in the present Black population still answering to an aggrieved and self-aggrandized group, a group that consciously looks for any reason to whip up a minority into a band of rioting thugs? I’m talking about the self-righteous leaders of Black Caucuses and Black Politicians who make their handsome incomes by keeping their constituents in a state of bondage, their own selfish bondage.

There have been so many advancements over the years on the racial issue. Yet, there are still those who financially benefit by keeping ‘race’ a factor in so many ways. There are Black leaders who feel that there is ‘white privilege’ and no equality. They rail when the statistics bear out the awful facts that contradict their focused realignment of truth – the broken black home, the black children with one parent, or, no parents at all, the crime rate among blacks.

There are no doubt some justifications for peaceful protests against decisions made under the rule of law. But when common criminals and hoodlums use these peaceful protests for their acts of violence, it should be obvious that their motives are but for selfish gain, very likely whipped up by the aforementioned race-spinners and not out of any grievance for a parent’s dead son. As previously alluded, it is my heart-felt opinion that there are some of the Black leaders, the race-hustlers, who do not put forth the efforts to change these statistics.

Instead of foment, try the truth!

I was born into poverty in Appalachia too many years ago, too many emotions and memories ago, with a broken family, state-run institutions, mobility, ingredients that could have made me a different person than I am today. There were the ‘poor white trash’ comments, the ragged clothes, and the abuse. Oh, there were enough confusion, doubt, mistakes, regret and remorse to fill several farm silos. But, somehow, with a loving mother, some good friends, relatives, a lot of good luck, I made it to and through adulthood, certainly not without mistakes and regrets, had a life of some accomplishments…and still here not quite ready for the trash heap.

The point is, this ‘equality thing’ that is brandished so often? No society will ever put in place a form of government to make everyone equal…and, who wants an ‘Eloi’ anyway? Maybe there is equality at birth, but then the qualifiers come in to play: intelligence, ignorance, low IQ, high IQ, capacity to learn, not learn, willingness to work hard, not work, disabilities – so many factors.

The point is, we can only live with what we have, what we are! We are all human. We need to care for those people who simply cannot make it on their own. We cannot make ‘entitlement’ our rule. We can judiciously make it our exception. We let the cream rise to the top. We let the best and talented among us (the ‘doers’) create our financial growth and jobs…without a lot of phony ‘entitlement’ regulations. We help the poor learn whatever trade in which they can excel so they can become self-sufficient. We help our aged if they truly need the help…shame on us if we do not.

The point is, without apologizing for it, we need a strong government, one that is honestly transparent, trustworthy, and works for us, that protects our borders, keeps us strong with state of the art military, equipment, intelligence, and makes any country think twice before they attempt to test our might…no bully, just being a good ‘boy scout’.

The point is, our country is a democratic republic. If you don’t want to be here, leave! Do not attempt to corrupt our citizens with the hatred you brought with you. If the God you brought with you wants us dead, take him back where you found him. The Gods we serve in our country don’t preach hatred and terror… We are the greatest nation on earth. Like us, live by our laws, or leave us!

The final point is, thugs with bats beating against store windows and robbing small store owners in Ferguson, Missouri because they did not agree with a Grand Jury rendering (or, more likely, using it as an excuse for their criminal acts) just don’t hack it here! You and those who led you hopefully will be found and punished… 

Do not let ‘Color’ be a disease!

We are all ‘one’.

Billy Ray Chitwood – November 29, 2014

Check my links below. Thank you, and, if it’s all the same to you, let’s get to the other side of Winter as soon as possible. It’s the day after Thanksgiving, and my bones are cold! Feel free to leave a comment.

While you’re at it, read one (or all) of my books in the genres of mystery, suspense, thriller, romance, memoir, history…the links follow. (Bio & links) (Books – Bio – Reviews) (@brchitwood) – Follow me (Fan/Like Page) (Independent Author Network – IAN) – My bio and books.

Ghost Bird(s)


Ghost Bird(s)

It’s a lovely old house, built in 1871, remodeled and some new additions. Of course, Julie Anne, George the cat,  and I love it…

But, here’s the thing, there are ‘ghost birds’ flying around inside the house!

You think I’m kidding? Nope, not trying to put something over on you…

We’re in the new house for two months, going broke furnishing the beautiful monstrosity. It starts innocently enough. We hear a noise, and George the cat is chasing and sliding all over the wooden floors trying to catch up with this wren (we think it’s a wren! A ghost wren!?). Julie Anne manages finally to chase it down, grasp it softly in her hand, open the kitchen door, and the feathery cutie flies away.

Now, all of a sudden, Julie Anne and George are chasing down a bird each day – maybe two or three times a day…can’t tell you it’s the same bird or a different bird each time. Incidentally, I don’t join in the chasing (not that I’m too good to chase) because I don’t like interrupting my lounging.

Okay, Julie inspects the house. The first chance I get to break into my lounging (actually, writing!), I inspect the house, top and bottom – there’s almost 7,000 square feet in this colossus! The bird keeps coming two or three times a day – same bird or different birds, I can’t say. Look, we have checked every square inch of this humungous house, even stuffed the clothes dryer lint catcher in the laundry room – well, actually it’s George’s dining room and bathroom… We even had a varmint expert come out and double our checking! We cannot find where the bird is making its entry. Our multiple fireplaces? We have blocked them all… You know, I have always loved birds – I’m not so sure anymore!

So, Julie Anne gets me to believing, you know, old house and all, that we’re being haunted by a bird or birds. Now, I’m not one usually to believe in ‘conspiracy’ or ‘bird ghost’ theories, but I’m darned near to the point of believing.

You’re probably thinking, ‘Is the bird leaving any droppings?’ (I’m assuming you know what I mean by droppings?) The answer is, wait for it, YES! We do find a small white speck on the floor occasionally…it’s like the feathery phantom is leaving its calling card.

We’re still looking, trying different things, but I can tell you this: there is not an opening big enough anywhere in this huge house for a bird to get inside. It’s rather maddening! (Of course, you’re clued in to that by reading this post!)

So, I’m seriously considering the bird ghost theory. There is one small catch! Can one pick up a bird ghost in one’s hand and carry it to the outside?

Hey, it’s been weeks now! If anyone has an idea, please let me know. One thing is sure, I will not be joining any birder groups anytime soon.

Billy Ray Chitwood – November 20, 2014

Now I’ll try to get your mind away from my ‘ghost bird’ story and try to interest you in some of my books – there are twelve of them. This week, I hope you’ll read The Reluctant Savage – it’s a book with a love triangle, murder, and some bad things going on. Give it a read! The book has received some 5-Star reviews…

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BUY SITE (Amazon Worldwide)

Also check my links below. Thank you, and, if it’s all the same to you, let’s get to the other side of Winter as soon as possible. Not even Thanksgiving, and my bones are cold! Feel free to leave a comment. (Bio & links) (Books – Bio – Reviews) (@brchitwood) – Follow me (Fan/Like Page) (Independent Author Network – IAN) – My bio and books.

Sorry to clutter the page but I’m proud of the following awards.

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A Dialogue


A Dialogue

Our chat had been friendly and neighborly for some time as we shared a libation. He had come to welcome me to the area, I thought. Or, was it to check me out, to delve more deeply into the kind of person I was?

“What kind of books do you write?” he ultimately asked, eyeing the few books I had in the den.

“Fiction, mostly, crime novels – some inspired by true cases, romance novels, memoirs, and one government rant and rave.”

“You seem pretty much removed from that kind of writing. I mean, you mentioned faith! Figure you to be writing about God and Religion.” He seemed almost smirking.

“Why people do what they do interests me…so I write about evil, love, romance, mayhem, murder, and level it all out with politics. I try to keep my language fairly clean.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do. You don’t write about your faith?”

“Sure, Faith is in everything I write.”

“Well, everybody has to be somewhere…as they say.”

We had talked about mundane matters for some time, and I noticed him glancing at his watch. We had discovered some rather astonishing facts about each other. He was about to leave my den and return to his own home, but I had to ask him a question.

“Why do you not believe in God?”

“Many reasons, infused in History, Science, Technology…in what I can see, hear, and feel.”

“What in history, science, and technology so dictate your disbelief?” I asked.

“Are you a man of History, Science, and Technology?” He asked back.

“I am just a man who has dabbled in these areas but not a master of either. Are you a master historian, scientist, and technologist?” I answered.

“No, of course, I am not, but I have studied long and meticulously in the areas, enough to formulate a viable thesis. Do you intend for me to dispel with argument each book of the bibles? Do you intend for me to argue at length about the evolution of man, the ‘Big Bang’ theory, and the scientific timeline accuracy of the historical record through the millennia?”

I weighed carefully my response and decided to thrust forward. There was no doubt we each were wearing on each other.

“My initial question was asked with the hope that you could simply give me a few thoughts which would erase for me the arrogance of your staunch atheist statement you made earlier, ‘There is no God’! Without my suggesting it, you know you have the right to any belief you wish to have. It just seems boldly noxious to me when someone can be so certain, so matter of fact, to counter the belief of billions of people in our world… Now, agnosticism presents a more humble position and one that many true believers of Christianity encounter at some point in their lives…myself included. Perhaps you could just dwell on what you see, hear, and feel to answer the question.”

He responded sharply. “I shall ignore your own arrogance and tell you this… I can see no God. I can hear no God. I can feel no God. I do not, nor have I ever gotten caught up in the emotionalism required to kneel and pray to a Deity, to ask for things that I can pretty well provide for myself. In the historical record, in the Science, and, in the technology, those theories presented to me hold much weight and I subscribe 100% to them. If that makes me arrogant, so be it!”

My turn. “You can see no God… Can you not see the sun rise in the sky, break through a cloudy day, to smile at you, to warm you and caress you? Can you not see the ocean waves break on the beautiful sand beaches, look far out to a distant horizon and wonder what lies beyond? Can you not see the deserts and the mountains in all their beauty, allow your mind to imagine beyond the various ages and how they came to be? Can you not see the wonder in a child’s eyes in discovering how to read, how to solve a math problem, how to bond with a friend? Can you not see the miracle of creation during those nine meticulous months of a woman’s pregnancy? Can you not see love in the hearts of people, in their charity, in their passion, in their relationships?

You can hear no God… Can you not hear Him in a bird’s tweet and frolic? In the lonesome wail of a distant train whistle? In the mellifluous sounds of a mountain brook? In the caressing whisper of the wind as it gently passes through the trees? In a child’s uncontrollable laughter while at play? In the words of love songs, crying out in need of extension to our normal living? In the sweet happy moans of a pet in greeting as you walk through the door? In the sated sounds of a loved one during embrace? In the sobs of distress at an emotional moment of a good book or movie? In the dying words of loved ones, knowing at last in those final moments their ultimate destination, smiling with a warm glowing face and a secret only they can know?

You can feel no God… Can you not feel the tender kiss of a sweetheart or wife? Can you not feel love’s most wondrous orgasmic releases? Can you not feel the excitement of friendships? The therapy of a warm bath or shower, the wonder of water? The regret of mistakes made, of taking a wrong road in your life’s journey? The pain of an injury and the joy of its relief? The awe of a new experience which mysteriously felt somehow familiar, as though you knew those moments? The child with a terminal illness, still smiling through the sadness at his world, kept alive with hope and love of family and friends? The emotions in the still of night when remembering a loved one who passed? The soft hand that touched you but was gone when you turned to look?

“Instead of you telling me why you do not believe in God, I have given my reasons for belief, hopefully not in an arrogant way. My faith is fragile but it is there within me, through those years of sinful living and agnosticism. There is very little in life that is more important to me than my faith. Yes, I stray from it, make other things sometimes seemingly more important, but my faith is found in the tears I shed for others, in the sorrow of my bad yesterdays, in the inherent good I know is within me…”

His turn. “Your words seem to convince you of your Deity. You need not hear my words of negation to your God. I fear my algorithm would be too difficult for you to understand. It is time for me to go…”

He stood and walked to the door, my parting words trailing after him.

“Let my voice be but mumbling to you, but go with God! AND, one last thing: get over yourself!”

Billy Ray Chitwood (@brchitwood) – Follow me. (IAN – Independent Author Network) – Bio and my Books


Feel free to respond and thanks for indulging the blog awards that follow… I’m proud of them.

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NEW BOOK INTRODUCTION! “Chaos is Come Again”

Chaos is Come Again

by John Dolan and Fiona Quinn



Amazon US –

Amazon UK –

Following momentarily is my 5-Star Review of Chaos is Come Again which appears on Amazon. The book is an extraordinary collaboration of two top-level writers who give us their dramatic moments and their wonderful bounty of wit, all playing out with a cast of memorable disparate characters. Other than to say that these two talented authors, having never personally met and separated by the ‘pond’ we call the Atlantic Ocean, have pulled off the difficult task of writing one hilariously irreverent and colossal book, my review says it all.

5.0 out of 5 stars 
Fabulous Writing Duo
November 1, 2014
This review is from: Chaos Is Come Again (Kindle Edition)

The duet novel put together by the extraordinarily talented John Dolan and Fiona Quinn is called “Chaos is Come Again” – Shakespeare devotees will recognize the title from Othello. Even the most lofty of the elite Shakespeare ‘club members’ should regale this offering from Dolan and Quinn as one of the best fictional novels of the year. In my humble opinion, here is what makes it so…

Dolan and Quinn give us characters that live with us long after we turn the last page… Avery, a literary agent who spends much of her time as many of us do – working, worrying, finding warm spots of happiness and love… Jerry, a boss we all love to hate… Travis, a truly tortured artist… Sean, who finds it difficult to expel from his life the naughty Teagen… Teagen, a woman we virulent males all wish to meet, well, at least once in our lives… Other great characters are here, some loony, some adorably crass and lovely, and there is some ugly business to sort out. But the truly amazing gift of this book is the writing itself, the purity of the words and phrases that pull the reader easily into the story, the literary wit that amuses us, the wonderful author craft that is constantly on display. It is an absorbing page-turner book no reader will want to put down.

Congratulations to John Dolan and Fiona Quinn, a fabulous writing duo… Were I allowed more stars, they would be given.

My review cannot end without this lovely nugget from “Chaos is Come Again:”

There are hours

There are nights

There are days

That cover us in shadow

There are times

In our lives

We feel lost

And alone and afraid

When the mantel clock

Ticks flat and slow

And branches scratch

At the window panes

When the dark things come

But not all is lost

For this is but

A transient dream…

The review ends and the BUY SITES are available for Chaos is Come Again, so buy this marvelous book and enjoy the uniquely disparate characters, their chaos, clutter, and hope – through the excellent writing of two powerful authors, John Dolan and Fiona Quinn.

You can follow these authors at – @JohnDolanAuthor and @FionaQuinnBooks. 

John Dolan’s blog site: under the unlikely name of Galericulate.

Fiona Quinn’s website: and her blog: There are many writing tips from which the beginning and/or seasoned writer can benefit.


Of course, I can be found on my website and other sites: (My bio and books) (My blog) (Short bio with links to facebook, goodreads, linkedin, et al)
My nine blog awards not listed in this post for brevity…

The Facade

Bill Chitwood-250

The Façade

Like a beautiful house or big city skyscraper each of us has a façade.

In the house or skyscraper the façade can hide many defects – substandard or faulty electrical components, bad insulation, watered down or weakened concrete, and the like. I’m reminded of Hollywood’s major movie production, The Towering Inferno, about an exquisite Los Angeles high rise office and condo tower where the developers utilized materials which were not up to contracting codes. The movie made tons of money for the stars, the executives in charge, and it likely drew the attention of reputable building firms. An exciting movie, it pointed out the greed and dishonesty of some among us.

The movie got me to thinking about my façade, my outer skin and the DNA materials used in building me. Through the years I’ve found that I’m quite a complex piece of wiring and my outer façade can show multiple personalities. Having said that, there is really only one of me…it takes a lot of self-appraisal and honesty to take this further, but, what the ‘hey’, there’s nothing to fear but fear itself.

My façade presents a favorable impression, for the most part…fairly good-looking guy, happy go lucky personality, booze-induced jokester, non-slob, and, in my youth, quite the lady chaser and man about town. My façade gave me a number of opportunities for fame and glory…I was lucky enough to do some acting – TV commercials, some film work, stage play, and modeling. While proud of the work in front of cameras it never went to my head, as they say. I had a fun-go at life, married, divorced, had despair and loneliness touch me, and was an otherwise decent guy. Much in my life will sound familiar to many readers. It is a tale often told.

The question, what is under the façade?

The quick answer: a kid who never grew up! I hate the word, maturity, likely because I never reached it. It is a rather sad commentary, I know, but just trying for honesty here. My childhood was mobile absurdity! Family disconnect! State-run institutions! AND, finally, a wonderful hard-working mother who brought a brother and sister back from the shadows to the extent that she could.

Beneath the façade are so many admissions… There is shyness, yet the façade shows a push-forward would-be comic. There is enough insecurity to wire several bodies, enough emotional debris to fill some ultra-large dumpsters, and just enough God-given gift of talent to line up words in a rational way…maybe with a few careless and proofreading goofs, not so much masterpieces but still darned good writing – and, I do say so myself. Twelve books written, working on the thirteenth, and approaching two hundred blog posts, I have had a lot to say, and perhaps a lot to hide. It is my belief that all of me is there on and between the lines of everything I have written.

Of course, there is also self-delusion in the facade! You know, thinking I am better than I really am. I am no ‘writing genius’, no John Grisham or Nelson DeMille, but my books are darn good, non-convoluted, and generally well-written – if you give me a pass on those aforementioned careless and proof goofs. Hey, my books are likely a lot better than even I believe them to be… So, mix some hope with the self-delusion in that façade.

One last point to make about my façade, I don’t like to sell – back to the shyness thing – but I’ve been in my life a top sales person and a great schmoozer. Following up on this point, I’m more an introvert than an extrovert – which will likely shock a lot of folks. I am a ‘let’s stay home’ kind of guy, watch TV, read a book, or write one.

One thing I do like to sell is freedom and liberty, so I voted yesterday, favor very much the results of the mid-term election and truly hope our country can get back on the right track – you know, better economy, more jobs, more prosperity, aid for those who truly it, more serious and speedy attention to our borders, more education options, a drug policy that has a chance at working, more state of the art security, a sound foreign policy with experts running it, and, with more urgency, kill the people who are trying to kill us. That is something else you will also find beneath my façade…there is no patience within me for mindless and ruthless thugs who vow to kill us and cut off heads in the name of their Deity.

My books of fiction and non-fiction are on Amazon – mystery, suspense, romance, memoir, politics. If you are interested in more information on my façade and the wiring underneath, check out this fictional memoir of me – ninety per cent of it is true (just changed my paternal- side names and wrote it with a two-track narrative)… There is inside the book some historical tidbits. Hope you read it and enjoy it.

Billy Ray Chitwood – November 5, 2014

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BUY SITES FOR The Cracked Mirror – Reflections…

Amazon US : http://www.

Amazon UK: http://www. (@brchitwood) – Follow me. (IAN – Independent Author Network) – Bio and my Books

Feel free to respond and thanks for indulging the blog awards that follow… I’m rather proud of them.

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