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Just a Bite of Something Sweet
I made an egg custard pie for Christmas. There is only one slice left. I am the only one in my immediate household that eats egg custard pie. My sister, Gwen, loved egg custard pie. She passed away the Sunday before Thanksgiving at the age of 85. We had her funeral week before last and I had the privilege to deliver her eulogy.
This past Saturday our family held its annual Christmas party in memory of those who have passed on. I put together a video from 1992 and 1994 when we took my mother and father to Disney World. Gwen and Sue (my other sister) were with us. Gwen’s kids, grandkids, great grandkids, and I’m pretty sure great great grandchild watched in delight as their “Nana” enjoyed Disney World with our mother and daddy.
That is why I made an egg custard pie. Gwen loved it. But no one loved it better than my mother. Let’s take the way back machine to the 1960’s. The default number one best shopping center in Shreveport was Shreve City.
J. C. Penney, Dillards, Woolco Department Story, McCary’s Jewelers, Stan’s Record Shop, and my favorite, Big Chain Cafeteria. We lived in Blanchard and it was about a 30-40 minute drive to Shreve City. But Mother loved to shop there at J.C. Penney. And occasionally grab a quick bite at Walgreen’s Diner. But her favorite food was found at Big Chain Cafeteria.
We ate there at least once a week, usually on Saturday while shopping but sometimes on Sunday when my Daddy was the music director at Mildred Crowe Memorial Baptist Church on North Market (since we were closer to Shreve City than at home!)
Every time we went to Big Chain I dreamed of getting a piece of egg custard pie! As we passed down the line starting with salad (rabbit food!) I kept a wary eye on my mother’s tray. She picked up gelatin salad, a fresh baked roll, her meat and vegetables and I would pray she would get a piece of pie. But, being a large woman who watched her calorie intake, she would pass up the pie. I would grab the largest piece available. Let me explain. It was not because I wanted a lot of pie. No, I just wanted an entire piece of pie!
You see, when my mother finished any meal (except for maybe breakfast) she routinely would look about at all available options and pronounce, “I just need a little bite of something sweet.” You know what that meant? Yes, her hungry eyes would come to rest on MY piece of pie. No matter how hard I tried to arrange the plates and glasses on my tray, I could never hide the pie from Mother.
“Honey, I just want a little bite of something sweet.” And before I could protest, her fork would soar through the air and — whack! One third of the pie was gone. Not the edge with pie crust but the best part, the pointy end! She would pop the “small bite of something sweet” equal to a third of my pie in her mouth and that was the end of it. For I would wolf down the rest before she needed another bite of something sweet. And I didn’t even get to enjoy it! Time and time again I would ask her if she wanted an entire piece of pie and I would encourage her to get her own piece. It never happened. If you were to visit her grave sight, you would see an inscription on the tomb stone stating that when she saw her Saviour “all she would want was a little bite of something sweet.”
My mother and father were married in the midst of the Great Depression in 1935. My father tried to make a go of it as a farmer in the most difficult time of our nation’s history for farming. They starved for years until moving to Shreveport in 1941 and leaving the dust bowl of Saline, Louisiana behind. I guess that is why my mother loved food so much!
A few years back, I decided to tackle some of the encouraging stories of my mother and father particularly at Christmas time. Mother loved to cook and bake but especially at Christmas. I became her helper as we made divinity, pralines, date loaf, date balls, party mix, “Martha Washington” balls (coconut nugget dipped in chocolate), and prune cake (don’t knock ti until you’ve tried it). Lots of little “bites of something sweet.” I compiled years of blog posts and devotionals I wrote about this special time of the year in a book for my family. “Just a Bite of Something Sweet at Christmas” was my gift to a growing family of children, grand children, great grandchildren, great great grandchildren and even great great great grandchildren. I never thought the book would be read by anyone outside my family. But I have had many comments on the stories in the book by other readers.
I picked up my copy this week and started reading and realized what powerful stories of encouragement and courage came from my parents as part of the “Greatest Generation”. They were both born before 1920 and saw the coming of automobiles, radio, talkies, two World Wars, the Korean War, television, the Vietnam War, the space program, the turmoil of the sixties and seventies, computers and the Internet, and so forth. No other generation has ever experienced such tumultuous change!
Right before I decided to write this book, I discovered my father had been interviewed by a high school student a few years before his death at age 98 in 2012. The transcript and recording were in his own words. When my mother passed away in 2004 at age 86 we discovered she had written her life story in a spiral bound notebook. I included their stories in their own words at the end of the book.
And so, this season, check out “Just a Bite of Something Sweet at Christmas” and be encouraged by the stories of my parents and my families. You will read stories of faith in the child born in the manger who would live and die and rise again for our salvation. And my hope is that you will find Jesus as your savior and one day walk the golden streets of heaven and find and eternal “bite of something sweet.”
Merry Christmas
The Homecoming Tree — 20 years!
My mother and father married on July 27,1935 in the middle of the Great Depression. Most Americans have no idea how bad times were in 1935. My father wanted to be a farmer and by the time 1940 rolled around their family was almost starving. My mother laid down the law and my parents along with my brother and sister moved from the tiny watermelon capital of Louisiana, Saline to the big city of Shreveport. My father was fortunate to get a job at the post office thanks to his brother in law. My mother went to work at Sears & Roebuck downtown.
They leased a house of Buckner Street with plenty of room for the family. Then, in 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. My father was thirty days away from being deployed to Europe when he was told as an employee of the U. S. Post Office, he would keep his job.
Soon after, my uncles from Saline left for Europe or the Pacific. Their families, one by one, moved in with my parents. My father converted a back porch into two bedrooms. The Hennigan “boarding” house was in business.
One of my aunts worked as a taxi driver in Shreveport during the war and the stories my parents told about her antics showed she was far ahead of her time! I loved to sit just off my uncle’s living room in Saline while my parents and their brothers, sisters, and in laws shelled peas and shucked corn and told about life during the Depression and World War II.
In 1999 I had converted all of my parents’ photographs from the past century into an old fashion slide show. My brother, born in 1937, joined them and I turned on the video camera while they told me their life story. Slide by slide we covered their lives from 1914 until to the early 1950’s. In particular, I was interested in life in Shreveport and Bossier City during the war.
In 1992, I became the drama director at Brookwood Baptist Church. By 2005, I had written and directed over 100 long and short dramas and I was ready to move on from drama to dedicate my time to writing books. For my last production, I decided to write a play based on my parents’ stories from World War II for our holiday production in 2005.
“The Homecoming Tree” told the story of a family living in Shreveport from their Thanksgiving meal up through Christmas Eve 1941. It was a huge production covering the entire stage area of our new church campus and featured over fifteen actors and actresses. We had a snow machine for outside scenes. We turned the baptistery into a radio studio. My mother had passed away in 2004 but my father recorded a 1940’s song and along with songs from 1941 it played during the scene changes. I had a three camera setup to record the entire production. (Unfortunately, one of the main actors routinely got off track in the third act and we had to flail around a bit to get everyone back on task.) However, it was one of the best received productions at Brookwood Baptist Church.
A few years passed and I was not happy with one of the characters I had created. I imagined a different framing for the story and rewrote the play featuring a modern day business man about to ruin his family by running off with his secretary. In order to teach him the importance of family, he is sent back in time to 1941 with amnesia and has to learn the lessons of the Greatest Generation. To be honest, many churches asked for the script but because of the scope of the production, they were unable to produce the play.
I decided to write a novelization of the play. “The Homecoming Tree” novel premiered in 2018. Great reviews followed. One reviewer said it reminded him of his favorite Christmas movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life” (which was totally intentional on my part) and that reviewer reads the book every Christmas to get into the spirit of the holidays.
This year marks the twentieth anniversary of “The Homecoming Tree” play and I want to encourage everyone to check out the book for this Christmas. Now, more than ever, we need to remember the sacrifices and devotion of the “Greatest Generation” as they fought and defeated evil throughout the world in order to bring about freedom and liberty.
You can find out more about the book at this link.
A Little GEEKD Will Do Ya
I have to admit I was a nerd before nerd was a word. It was only later in my life that the term “geek” could be applied to me. I have a class picture from my eighth grade year book listing showing me with hair plastered down with Brylcreem (a little dab a do ya) with black thick rimmed glasses (which are very chic now!) And a pocket protector.
Yes. A pocket protector. If you don’t know what that is, bless you! It served to carry my pens and my slide rule. In my defense, digital calculators came out when I was in the ninth grade.
It wasn’t until the tenth grade I rebelled against the short hair and the heavy glasses. I grew my hair out as long as school rules permitted. There was an actual measurement of how close your hair could come to your collar and how low your sideburns could extend. I pushed the limit and got some gold rimmed glasses. I was now very groovy and hip! But I was still a nerd and still a prehistoric geek.
This past weekend I took my adult daughter to GEEKD con in Shreveport. The first time I took her to a comic-con or anima convention was in 2005, MECHACON in Lafayette. I was shell shocked at what I saw and experienced but since then have settled into the fun to be had at these events. It should be noted that Casey and I left Lafayette on Sunday morning in 2005 right ahead of hurricane Katrina!
Of course, in order to really enjoy such an event, one must cosplay. If you don’t know what that means, it’s basically dress up as your favorite character from comic, movies, television, etc.
In the past, I gave in to my daughter’s request and I have been Indiana Jones, a Jedi Knight, the 4th Doctor, and most recently, the War Doctor. Now that I am, ahem, mature in age, the War Doctor and the older Indiana Jones are right down my alley. Casey has pulled off almost every iteration of the newer Doctors from Doctor Who and a host of anime characters I have no experience with.
The event was HUGE! We went to the first convention in Bossier City ten years ago and it was quite modest compared to this weekend. I also remember the line to get in to that first convention was almost a quarter of a mile long!
My daughter wanted to meet some voice actors, once again from anime shows, and I had no idea who she was talking about. I wanted to meet Bret Iwan, the voice of Mickey Mouse as I am a huge Disney fan. Also, we wanted to meet John Barrowman, the actor who portrayed Malcolm in Arrow and Captain Jack Harkness in Doctor Who and Torchwood.
I want to say that meeting each of these celebrities was so shockingly pleasant. Their love for their fans was obvious. Barrowman came out from behind his table to meet and greet every person, sign autographs and pose for selfies. Bret Iwan was the most humble and down to earth person I met. Kat Cressida, a genuine surprise guest I did not realize I knew, played Kat in Babylon Five but also has voiced many Disney characters such as Jessie, and the bride in the attic in the Haunted Mansion (my daughter’s favorite ride) along with other Disney characters. We spent almost fifteen minutes just talking and visiting with her and she shared some of her audition stories with us. What a sweet person!
I attended Bret’s panel and loved hearing his stories about how he ended getting the job of voicing Mickey Mouse after Wayne Alwine, the voice of Mickey for decades, passed away. Such a sweet and inspiring story.
But then, oh my goodness, I attended John Barrowman’s panel. I have never heard such foul language and nasty jokes packed into one hour in my life. But I have to admit I laughed so hard my throat was soar. He was definitely not for the PG13 crowd. In fact at one point when answering a question he asked the guest how old he was. He replied, “14” and Jack just said, “I’m in trouble!” BTW, he was wearing a dress that looked like the TARDIS and white high heel shoes.
However, I did meet one special person. S. K. Davidson, a young woman, alone at her table, has written a science fiction novel, “An Unforeseen Genesis” and I am enjoying the book. I sensed upon meeting her that her spirit synced with mine and I believed she was a believer. After reading her book dedication, I was so pleased to read in her dedication that she is a Christian. Check out her website.
Also, my son Sean informed me of geekdevotions.com, another Christian site dedicated to celebrating geeks who just happen to be Christian and more. Check out their site and their Youtube channel.
So from the ridiculous (Barrowman) to the sublime (Bret and S. K. Davidson) it was a fulfilling and fun experience. Next year, I’ll be there probably as Indiana Jones, the old one who barely made it though Dial of Destiny. You can jeer at me then!
Grab a Girdle . . .
Okay, so this is totally off the beaten path. No medical angle. No talking about Dr. Jack Merchant. I have been watching “Leanne” on Netflix. If you haven’t discovered Leanne Morgan, go to Netflix or Youtube and watch some of her comedy specials BEFORE you watch the new series. And try, for now, to avoid the little baby girl overlays of her comedy. You’ll see what I mean. You must see Leanne’s facial expressions to get her comedy.
Then, go to Netflix and watch the new series. Bring a tissue. You’ll be crying with laughter. Leanne Morgan is from Tennessee and her southern accent is genuine and, for this southern boy, strangely comforting. It brings back many memories of growing up on a farm in Blanchard, Louisiana. She is my people!
You can also find many video posts on Youtube with Leanne interviewed by famous people such as Oprah about her series. But the best is with Amy Poehler. During that interview, Leanne talks about her battle with Spanx and girdles and after I got myself up off the floor, a memory from my childhood surfaced.
That’s my mother on the far right at Grand Canyon when I was ten. I’m the kid looking away from the camera. The other two kids are my nephews and my older sister, Gwen, is their mother. The guy in the middle is my father, of course.
My mother was larger than life. Literally. Her entire life, she fought the battle of the bulge. Once, and only once, successfully losing a hundred pounds. She had TOPS to thank. What is TOPS? Take Off Pounds Sensibly! Maybe a Weight Watchers precursor? Guess what? It still exists.
I tell the story of the time I bit into a salad mother made from a TOPS recipe only to find plastic netting in my mouth. Green plastic netting! The recipe said to substitute it for real lettuce to cut down on the calories. And to put fiber in your diet! I think I pooped a flower arrangement!
Tab was the drink of choice back then filled with that mouse bladder cancer agent saccharin. I drank it just like my Mom because I was a hefty, chunky little boy who had to wear “Husky” jeans. A nice word for fat boy breeches. And don’t get me started on Metrical. Those little dry, flaky biscuits could have been used for door stops. And stop me up they did! Anyway, I digress.
But, the battle of bulge reached critical proportions every Sunday morning. My father was a bivocational music director and he served in various small churches my entire life. This meant we were at the church every time the doors were open. Now, my mother drove a school bus. And her preferred clothing was double knit polyester pants and flowered blouses. She made both, by the way, from that lovely, indestructible polyester cloth that will be wrapped around indestructible styrofoam in a landfill. A thousand years from now someone will find that blouse and pair of pants and wear them with a Styrofoam cooler for a hat.
For a short period of time, she made me shirts to wear to junior high school. I tried to burn them in the trash, but as I said, they were indestructible!
On Sunday mornings, when I was young, between about 6 and 10, my mother would call me into her bedroom as she was getting dressed for Sunday morning. She agreed to wear a dress on Sunday morning instead of her slacks because, after all, she was the music director’s wife. She won a battle once to allow her to wear her pants on Sunday evening, but that is a story for another day.
My mother would be standing by the bed with her girdle halfway up her legs. My job was to climb up on the bed and grab the top of her girdle and pull with all my might. My father couldn’t do the job. His hands were too big to fit between the girdle’s lip and my mother’s, uh, skin.
I would heave an ho and pull and tug and grunt and sweat until finally, the girdle would slide up into place and my mother, red faced and short of breath would declare victory. I never thought about this odd request. Didn’t all boys help their mothers with their girdles? Of course they did.
Until I heard Leanne Morgan talk about her girdle and her struggle to get it up over her stomach “the size of a small purse”.
I laugh about this today. I never shared that girdle gridiron touchdown story with anyone until I got married. My wife never wore a girdle. In fact, the word girdle has all but disappeared from our vocabulary replaced with more acceptable euphemisms.
My mother passed away in 2004. And I miss her. But I must admit, I don’t miss the great girdle hitch me up!
Check out Leanne on Netflix and laugh. Now, when she mentions her girdle, you’l see why I found myself on the floor in tears!
Of Magic, Merchants, and Mayhem
I want to thank everyone for reading the past few posts promoting my latest book, “Merchant of Justice”. Response to the story has been good especially from my medical colleagues! If you haven’t read “Shadow Merchant” I encourage you to check it out and our website, hopeagainbooks.com has links to buy the book.
Tomorrow I am traveling to the Daytona Beach area to visit with Mark and Donna Sutton. Mark is my former pastor, co-author, and brother in Christ. In 2001 Mark and I were privileged to release “Conquering Depression” published by B&H Publishing. Since that time, B&H asked us to update the book and in 2014, released “Hope Again: A 30 Day Plan for Conquering Depression.” In 2019, Mark and I released the third edition under our own publishing banner, “Hope Again: A Lifetime Plan for Conquering Depression.”
I cannot express how many lives this book has changed. I do not say this as a boast for I never planned on co-authoring a book about depression because I never planned on having a major life changing depressive episode. God had different plans and as I have said many times, “it was not my plan”. It seems most of the time, what I am involved in has never been MY plan. My simple awakening moment every day is to ask God what work I can be involved in today. His work. Not mine! And God has blessed this little book that kept on going.
Now, I am faced with the reality that my section of the book based on medical data and apologetic and cultural issues is sadly out of date. It needs to be updated.
But, the book is now, in one form or the other, almost 24 years old. Perhaps it is time to let it fade away. Yesterday, while visiting Barnes and Noble I saw many books written by Christian authors dealing with anxiety, depression, and cultural influences. Maybe our book isn’t needed anymore. At the time we wrote the first book, there were hardly any books written at an easily understandable level for helping Christians develop a plan to conquer depression. While it did not become a best seller, it filled a niche and has changed and touched lives all over the world. LOGOS, the Bible study software, lists our book as part of their library.
I am asking for prayer and direction about our book. I will be sitting down with Mark to discuss the future. Mark’s health no longer allows him to write books but his knowledge of the Bible and how to apply it to everyday life is large and in charge!
We talk more about our book at conqueringdepression.com and I apologize that site is not as active as I desire. If you want to check out our book, I suggest you order it from hopeagainbooks.com not the conquering depression website.
On another note, I am actively involved in finishing the final book in the “Chronicles of Jonathan Steel”. I wrote the rough draft for the first book way back in 2000. It has been a long journey writing about all thirteen demons! And I want the last book to bring together all of the story lines. When I decided to write a book series, the first thing I did was sit down and write the last chapter of the last book so I would know where I would be going over the series. I know where I have been headed with every book and I want to true to the stories I’ve told up until now. In a future post I will tell the story again of how a total stranger had a vision about my books and told me I had three guardian angels watching over me to make sure Satan did not keep me from writing these books. Those of my readers who follow Jonathan Steel please be patient. It will be worth the wait!
If you interested in the Jonathan Steel series, I suggest you go to Amazon or Apple Books and download my Volume 1 of the Jonathan Steel Chronicles. There is not a printed version because it would be over 1200 pages long! This is the latest updated versions of the first three books restored to their original form after heavy editing by my traditional publisher. These books are the “author’s” cut, so to speak!
Also, I am working on putting together an audiobook series of the books. Lots going on!
And, I haven’t forgot about Dr. Jack Merchant. I’m working on the third book as I am working on the Chronicles of Jonathan Steel.
And, I am so excited about a book I discovered just yesterday, “On Magic & Miracles” by Mirian Jacobs. She is a Christian author who has addressed the “wizard” in the room regarding how Christian authors can write stories including magic! My spin off series from Jonathan Steel, “The Node of God” has been in limbo because I have wrestled with how to write a Christian story that includes magic. Now I feel liberated and I am about to start work on finishing that first book, “The Node of God: The Harbinger of the Redeemer”.
One last note, tonight at Brookwood Baptist Church our monthly Brookwood Apologetics meeting will feature a Question and Answer Forum where our “scholars” will be open to any question about Christian and science, culture, and so forth. We may not have all the answers but we will have some and we can point anyone in the right direction for answers.
Merchant of Justice — Have you been on a Jury?
Every person I have met has the same reaction when the dreaded jury summons letter arrives. Emotions border on hatred and homicidal urges. No one wants to serve on a jury! Cooped up in a room with thirteen other strangers (twelve jury members and two alternates) for possibly days and getting paid a pittance! And to top it off, we have no choice! It is the law! Unless, we can come up with a good reason not to be on a jury. Strategies abound on how to dodge jury duty.
However, recently, my efforts fell on deaf ears and I showed up for jury duty. Within hours of sitting in the dull, oppressive courtroom, I was called in the first twelve potential members of the jury. The next morning after hours of lectures on the process of a jury and a trial and the definitions of murder, I was seated on the jury.
I will never forget the first time I sat in the jury box and studied the “perp” or rather, the accused at the far end of a long table. The prosecution sat at the end of the table closest to the jury. The accused and his attorneys sat at the far end.
Clad in a flannel shirt and wearing black rimmed glasses, the man seemed like an ordinary person I might meet at Starbucks or find sitting behind me in a pew at church. He certainly didn’t look like a murderer. Looks can be deceiving. Skin cannot hide what dwells within the heart of man. See what I did there? I’m a writer!
The trial unfolded swiftly after we were seated. Heartbreaking testimony from the victim’s friends and family. Body camera footage from the police arriving just moments after the shooting. On day two, grim and disturbing photographs of the victim’s body from a pathologist with monotonal delivery. He was far too calm for the carnage exposed on the photographs. I’m a doctor and I found the photos very disturbing, nauseating, dehumanizing. I couldn’t begin to imagine what the other jurors were feeling.
Have you ever served on a jury? If so, have you been part of a murder tria? I had trouble sleeping for about a week after it was all said and done. It is one thing to read about such atrocities. It is another to see it laid out in real time before you while looking the murderer in the eyes!
When the guilty verdict was finally delivered and the courtroom was cleared of everyone but the jury and the judge, my first thought was what if the murderer’s family, friends, or cohorts came after us for this verdict? Were we safe? The patina of apparent safety had been stripped away like pain thinner on the bubbled surface of old wood! No one was safe if this seemingly calm, ordinary man had been capable of the macabre and gruesome murder. I can never look around me now without studying every individual, every movement, every possible intention. Safety is an illusion!
The judge assured us that in the thirty years he had presided over criminal cases, no jury member had every suffered from retribution.
I walked away from that experience a changed man. Here are my thoughts.
First, if I was ever accused of a crime, I would want a jury of reasonable, thinking, willing individuals to objectively assess the evidence against me. I wouldn’t want angry, anxious to be done, uncaring people. I know jury duty is a drag. But it is a necessary duty to keep our society from devolving into chaos.
Second, if I were asked to serve on a jury again, I would do it. Did it waste my time? Yes. Did I get reasonable recompense for my time? No! Was I inconvenienced? Yes. But considering that the victim lost her life and was deprived of a future with her grandchildren and friends, four days in a jury box is nothing! When we are chosen to be on a jury, we become the instruments of justice. Even unwillingly, it is a duty we should, albeit reluctantly, embrace.
Third, the experience taught me a lot about law and what really happens in a courtroom. What we see on television and the movie screen during a tense courtroom drama is NOTHING like experiencing it in real time. This man’s life was in OUR hand! We could with a cavalier attitude put the man away for life! Or we could release a monster out on the streets. At the same time, justice could only be served if we did our job objectively and willingly. The harsh reality of the choices we were called to make puts any fictional drama in its shadow.
Fourth, the experience provided me an opportunity to share with my readers. My second book about Jack Merchant was not intended to feature jury duty. I had another pathway chosen for Dr. Merchant. But circumstances in my practice group and events concerning members of my practice came dangerously close in real life to what I had intended in fiction. I had to back off and come up with another story. For now. My experience on a jury during a murder trail became the central story of “Merchant of Justice”.
So join Dr. Jack Merchant as he reluctantly becomes the “13th juror”.
Merchant of Justice – Is it all real?
Where did you get your setting, your characters, and your story elements? Are you talking about real patients and doctors?
I’ve been rewatching the early seasons of NCIS. Fascinating character creations. In one episode, the geek, Tim McGee, has written a best selling novel based on his NCIS experiences. However, McGee makes the mistake of barely changing the names of the characters from their real life inspirations. And the characters are almost carbon copies of their namesakes.
The inspiration for “Shadow Merchant” and it’s follow up “Merchant of Justice” came many years ago. In the field of medicine, there are many interesting and unique “characters”. There are some challenges in writing a story about the place you work and about the people you work with, no matter how fascinating.
First, all doctors are bound by patient doctor confidentiality to never share their patients’ situation. Every day when I came home from work, my wife would ask me about any interesting cases from that day. I carefully avoided answering her questions directly. I would only talk about a “case” in a more general sense if I felt like I needed her understanding, and sometimes solace, over a “case” that troubled me. In planning these books, I made it a rule to NEVER divulge information about real patients.
Second, because of this restriction, I would use only “interesting” cases as a basis for my fictional patients. The field of medicine is filled with “interesting” cases. At one time, I kept a running list of such cases primarily to follow up their course. In radiology, we see the imaging studies and most of the time never meet the patient behind the images. The only way we can find out what happened with the patients (and, subsequently, if our diagnosis was correct) is to keep track of them to see if they have follow up imaging studies with clinical information. This is not to pry or to snoop, but to have a real sense of closure and to learn from our involvement with the patient. Thus, there are many such “interesting” cases that have very similar outcomes and presentations. In my stories, the fictional patients are always a composite of such “interesting” findings and never based on a real patient.
Third, I had to write about my colleagues. One of the reasons I waited so long to write these stories was to give time for some of my colleagues (both within the field of radiology and out of the field) to retire. It’s very difficult to create a character that does not bear at least some resemblance to real doctors, nurses, and other health care personnel. One of the nurses in our department told me just last week she is reading “Merchant of Justice” and could see the stress I faced everyday in my practice. Did I base Dr. Jack Merchant on myself? Absolutely not! Jack and I are totally different people. I chose Jack’s personality based on a composite of differing personality traits. I would never base a character on myself or a colleague without asking permission. As I stated in earlier blogs, I asked one of my partners to give me permission to base a character almost completely on him. He agreed to and loved the character in the first book. Every other character is purely fictional. Any resemblance is only in the mind of my reader!
Fourth, the setting of my story could not be the place where I currently work. I created a fictional city and hospital system. My readers who live in north Louisiana would recognize bits and pieces of “Talako” and “Bayou City”. The setting just as easily be Shreveport/Bossier City or Monroe/West Monroe or Alexandria/Pineville. Squish them all together and place them close to Ruston and you have the location of my fictional cities. Astute readers will recognize certain landmarks such as colleges, restaurants, and so forth. In my first novel, “The 13th Demon” I mentioned the “Women’s Hospital” based on a local campus of the system I work in. At the time the novel came out, I had to give a deposition regarding my interpretation of imaging studies. During some down time when we were not “on the record” my attorney asked about my book and specifically asked about the location of that campus. The attorney representing the hospital system went ballistic! She was horrified I had mentioned our hospital in a fictional setting! She couldn’t give a good reason but I assured her I would never share hospital based “secrets”!
“Write about what you know.” A suggestion from many successful writers. I am hoping my stories are successful in bringing pleasure to my readers. No hidden agendas. No gossip or secrets revealed. All is fiction. But sometimes, “truth is stranger than fiction”. I wondered about where that saying came from and my every reliable AI search revealed: The quote “Truth is stranger than fiction” is widely attributed to Mark Twain. He is often cited as saying it in the context of his novel Pudd’nhead Wilson, where the character says, “Truth is stranger than fiction, because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn’t.”.
Having stated all of these restrictions I have placed on my writing, I want the reader to understand how Dr. Jack Merchant and his partners, patients, and colleagues came to be. They exist in a fictional city in North Louisiana in a fictional medical center which gives me great latitude in my story telling. Dr. Jack Merchant is a unique creation with no relationship to a real person. He’s just an “interesting case”!
Merchant of Justice — Background
Someone asked me the question, “Why did you choose a forensic radiologist as your main character?”
I can’t remember exactly where I saw the lecture by Dr. Brogdon. I was an eager learner in medical school and had never heard of the field of radiology. Dr. Brogdon spoke eloquently about the field of forensic radiology — radiology imaging used to help solve crimes. He showed a number of cases and I remember my gut wrenching reaction to seeing these X-rays and CAT scans of murder victims.
One case in particular is forever burned into my memory. A patient reported to the emergency room with blood and water leaking from his nose from the beating he received from his assailant. No matter how hard the physicians tried, they could not stop his nose bleed. He soon died. Post mortem X-rays revealed an astonishing finding. Turns out he did not die from the beating. Rather, he died because of the knife blade in his brain.
Years before, in a similar fight for this “wanna be” gladiator in the Saturday night knife and gun club, he had been stabbed in the top of his head. He escaped from his assailant with only a cut on the top of his head. Or so he thought. The knife blade actually broke away from the hilt and lodged itself right between the frontal lobes of his brain, miraculously inserting itself between brain tissue. Over the years, the blade caused him headaches and unending pain which no doubt contributed to his drug use. Over time, the knife blade migrated downward under the pull of gravity until its tip pierced the roof of his nasal cavity. He had a runny nose for months but the latest fight had dislodged the knife blade causing it to pierce completely into the nasal cavity. He died of a nose bleed!
Years later, when I decided to become a radiologist, I felt the tug and pull of the mystery provided by a set of images. Each patient became a puzzle to be solved. I did not want to miss something as dangerous as a knife blade in the brain! In many cases, the radiologist is the knot at the end of the rope in a physician’s attempt to finding a diagnosis. I recall many such strange cases such as the child who was helping her father with remodeling the house. She pulled a nail from the wall with a claw hammer and somehow, the hammer bounced backwards and downwards and imbedded the nail through her sternum almost into her heart!
In today’s world of forensic medicine, forensic radiology is a growing tool for determining cause of death. Post mortem CAT scans are almost as reliable as an autopsy. Post mortem X-rays have been done for years and now, with the addition of CAT scans and even MRIs, the cause of death can be more reliably determined.
One day while working at one of our hospitals, the ER physician came over from his post in the emergency room to go over CAT scan results on one of his patients. I keep the lights low in the office to remove reflections from the high resolution screens. He stepped into my darkened office and laughed.
“Ah, the shadow merchant at work. Plying the shadows and seeking out truth in the darkness.” He said.
My perplexed look of confusion clued him to the fact I had no idea what he was talking about.
“When I was in the military, we called radiologists shadow merchants.” He said gleefully.
And now you know why my first book was named “Shadow Merchant”. I am intrigued by forensic radiology and like my main character, Dr. Jack Merchant, I want to learn more about the discipline of forensic radiology. I decided to write his story about his journey or discovery. And now, you too can join Dr. Jack Merchant as he plies the shadows and darkness for truth in the first book, “Shadow Merchant” and the follow up newest book, “Merchant of Justice”. Go to www.hopeagainbooks.com for more information.
Merchant of Justice!
Today, the second book in the Jack Merchant Medical Mystery series is avaiable on all platforms in paperback and ebook format.
Much to my dismay, I held in my hands a jury summons. I was surrounded by the destruction of my home at the time. A day before, I had arrived back at my house after a trip to discover a pipe had burst in my ceiling and flooded the entire first floor of my home. There was no way I could show up the next day for jury summons! I sent an urgent message to the jury selection manager and my summons was delayed by six months. I put that date on my calendar, hoping against hope I would not be summoned. That hope was shattered and I appeared for my jury summons on a hot July morning.
Along with the 50 other odd people I sat in an aging courtroom hoping my name would not be called. I was in the first twelve called to the jury box. The experience of being asked personal questions and being told to “always tell the truth” almost threw me into a panic mode. I looked at the witness stand. Over a half a dozen times, I had sat in that very witness stand being grilled in an adversarial fashion by an attorney. Each time, the setting was a malpractice suit in which I was only a witness. But, one time, it became painfully obvious I was being set up to be added to a law suit. That story prompted the opening chapters of “Merchant of Justice”.
Of course I was selected for the jury. I was pulled into a horrific story of unrequited love, greed, and subsequent murder. That experience became the foundation for Dr. Jack Merchant’s next story. In “Shadow Merchant” Dr. Merchant, a local radiologist, is accused of murdering his wife and the story unfolds as he tries to clear his name. In the process he becomes a consultant to the local medical examiner.
In “Merchant of Justice” he has settled into this role rather uncomfortably. His practice partners are not so happy about the prior year when he was recovering from losing his wife. And now, he becomes “the 13th juror” on a murder trial. Reluctantly and not by choice, he fills his roll as an alternate and soon becomes a voting member of the jury. As the trial unfolds, his travails and hardship take second place to a growing realization he may know the perpetrator! Dr. Jack Merchant once again finds his life in danger as he seeks true justice for victims of wrong doing!
“The 2nd Demon: Tales of the Grimvox”
I received an email recently asking if “The 4th Demon” was the last book in “The Chronicles of Jonathan Steel”. It is NOT. The fact is, 2024 has not been a friendly year for my writing. Back in January, 2024 we went to Walt Disney World for the International Art Festival at EPCOT. The week were gone proved to be another “snowmageddon” in our deep south location here in northwest Louisiana. The temperature plummeted to 9 degrees that Tuesday night.
Three years before, a similar event took place and we had a pipe freeze in the attic above our garage. The ensuing flood took out the garage ceiling. We were at the house when it happened and found it promptly. Now, digging through frozen clay, ice, and snow to find the water turnoff valve was a chore but we managed. I had a cut off valve put in the attic to cut off water to that pipe which supplied only one faucet outside.
Well on that night in January, the cut off valve froze! Wednesday about 6 PM I checked out doorbell camera from our room in Disney World to see if we had lost power. Plenty of power but I saw water running across our front porch into the yard! A friend up the street was kind enough to check and we were able to let him into the house. The pipe had burst AGAIN and had taken out the ceiling over my study! Lots of computer equipment and memorabilia, etc. were taken out by the flood. Our entire first floor was flooded.
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Bruce Hennigan 
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