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| Tracy and Kone Bowman |
When I was six years old, I met Tracy Bowman. She wasn't Tracy Bowman at the time, she was Tracy, "Somebody else". She had a cousin named Detrich and they lived on Marshall. I lived in the Duplexes on East Boulevard. I don't know who remembers them, but they had an alley that ran behind them. We were known as the "Alley People". There were huge rats that lived there, too. I have friends on Facebook and in life that like me and my family transitioned there over time. We are all successful people, today! Those kinds of adversities breeds major accomplishments in those that live for success. We met there and were "Alley People", together. My father had left a year before, and my mother was trying to get it together and give us a life. She was failing, miserably, but like Nikki G. says, "I was always happy". Tracy and Detrich were comfortable, and dressed nice and had fancy bows that were put in their hair every morning, and I wanted to be like them and would walk home from school with them everyday. I guess, I wanted to pretend that I was like them, too.
Sometimes, I don't even think they wanted to walk with me. I was not comfortable and did not dress in the latest fashions. My hair was short and I didn't have bows or ribbons or any of those things. Today, I am almost 49 years old. I am not rich, but I have discovered that I am very smart and very good with people. I don't have a huge political career or anything like that. I have a good man in my life that supports me and I support him and we have accomplished a lot over the last 18 years that I'm beginning to think people envy. My life has been hard and lonely. I guess it's about to be over! I have no idea. I am a consumer at Community Network Service. I is supposed to be a premiere mental health program, but they are a bunch of pimps and abusers. I'm not insane by any means. I was forced to go to prison by a bunch of crooked cops. They want to backtrack these days, because although I have not seen my man in over three years, we work. I had never been to jail for more than two days when I was arrested for stalking him. Once for an incident with my brother and again for some more police mess. Girl Scout cookies and things of that sort. Back then, anything crooked in Pontiac was wrapped up in the Pontiac Police.
When I entered prison in December 2004, I had only did the 45-days it took to get me there in my entire life. My mother would always come and bail me out. The "Big Whigs" at the Pontiac Police were standing on my man's neck and he was hopeless, we were hopeless. I loved him and understood and took every lick. With tears and misery, but I took it all, even when I thought I would lose my mind. There has been times that we didn't see one another for years. Our commitment to one another was always there and always strong. I did not know that I could love someone so much in all my life. I love him, however, and am not ashamed of that one bit. In life "a little rain must fall," but I've had tornadoes and hurricanes. God is so good, and he is mighty in the lives of those that trust him. Kone Bowman is a preacher, but he knows nothing about the God I serve. I had to go live with the mentally ill prisoners, because that's where they put people like me who don't "get along" with the other prisoners. I stayed in segregation and in fights with my bunkies. They didn't know what else to do, because most people submit. I did not...
When I got home and Val Gross charged me with stalking him for trying to make a complaint, I went to jail. While in jail, I discovered that the deputies were prostituting the men and women in the jail's clinic. I'm not saying I'm gorgeous, but they pick from your mugshot. I guess I took a nice one. When I refused to sell myself, because I was innocent, they sent me to the State Forensic Center for an evaluation. Wouldn't you know it, I was insane and could adequately assist my attorney in my defense. None of the people I wrote could talk to me, or the news, nobody. I am fine with that, but lately, I've been talking to public officials and mingling in circles that a person from an alley shouldn't be mingled with. Kone is my first-cousins brother. His father was married to my aunt when we were very little children. In fact, when I was six and seven when I knew his wife. She used to pick him and my brother up and they would go play basketball. She died, and when my cousin messaged me on Facebook and asked me for the sake of our family to not write another word about Kone, as a favor to him for his brother. I agreed and have not written a word about his brother since then. Out of love for my family that I can't have anything to do with, because they would be targets of the police. Kone's father did a bid in prison, before passing away at an early age. So, I guess he felt he couldn't talk about that. My aunt, who ran away from him because of abuse, would swear he was crazy! She took my cousins and moved to Tennessee, until he was incarcerated in the early 80's. He abandoned Kone, and it was my aunt that welcomed him into her home and not his own father!
FedEx wanted to build a distribution center behind Stonegate, where Kone and Tracy live. He had come to a City Council Meeting and had some issues with the new construction. Coincidentally, I was in a "Operations Management" class at Walsh. I understood the placement of distribution centers, and the math that is used to determine there whereabouts. They came down to the City Council Meeting like FedEx was targeting Black folk and trying to do something to them on purpose. Making these high-falutin request of them. Kone being the loudest voice that felt they were only building their warehouse here, because we were Black and they thought they could get over on us. He tries to act like he is so intelligent and militant. I found out, today, he is nothing but a crook and a low-class one at that. During his tenure at Pontiac City Council, where he accomplished nothing special, he worked for this pyramid scam. I always wondered how he really made his money, because that company never really paid any real money.
We haven't heard much about FedEx. Kone is probably making them pave his driveway. I never thought that he was good friends with Kermit Williams, but I can imagine after today they are "good" friends. His wife works for CNS. She's a Transport Employee. She picks up and drops-off consumers. They sit at the desk and listen to their consumers sessions with their medical professionals. They think I don't know this. This B***H, Tracy Bowman, that has known of me forever, and felt that she was superior. Now thinks she would get "one up" on me and listen to my session with my healthcare professional. They think nobody knows. People sit in their face, do drugs and run right back and tell what they talk about. Dummy! She and Kone think they can try and act like my man and me. While I sat and played my word game, she talked about her 25-year old. I guess that's more than my 18 years. I don't compare in years, I compare hardship and sacrifice. I compare the love and trust, honesty and loyalty over the years. We may not have a dozen children, but we have one another and sometimes that's enough. Kone wants his woman to be like me. First, he has to be the man that my man is, and then he has to be willing to sacrifice every day for the woman he loves. That does not mean sending her to do the job of a real woman. Because when you come against a real woman, you are bound to lose.
I'm no longer that little girl with three pair of pants to my name and only one pair of shoes that she has to wear with everything. But Tracy knows that, because she attempted to treat me like I am. I'm at the point in my life that all I want to do is sleep, eat and go to bed. I can't, however, because God has given me too much to do. It does not include coming against people that are too far for me to reach. I hear my name is in rooms that I have never entered. I have sacrificed so much to live. I have been tortured, only to rise from the ashes like a Phoenix, to fight again. Sitting and listening to my life is not even going to get you across the street, Tracy. If you want to know something about me, Tracy, come ask me. My number is all over Facebook. Come and talk to me! Ask your husband to be still! His efforts, as poor as they are, will soon be rewarded. When this started, so many people thought I would never make it. Well, guess what, MF's? I don't deal with men, and I leave him to take car of that part. As a woman I surely know my place. "Trash Bag", you need to keep your wits about you, man. You're way out of your league if you want to come for me. Besides, I didn't even send for your corrupt, sorry a**!
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| I don't know what failed election this is! |
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| You will never be able to say that I don't care about anything! |
