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I did not become a serious writer until later in life. I simply could not find my way in the business worlds; so, writing and the visual arts arose from the ashes of despair.
John Kouzmanoff, a retired elementary school teacher helped me through the doldrums of my disparate existence. Over time, he talked about his life and the fears that held him back. Suddenly, I eased up on myself and those dreaded anxieties became less noticeable.
John, however, passed away from kidney failure while vacationing in Salt Lake City.
This man of 65 who once marched every single time Martin Luther King, Jr. came to Chicago, softly touches my heart whenever nothing seems to go right. Humility and love are all I ever need or to reach out (desire) for that matter.
Rest in Peace John.