After surviving the stint in the psych ward--I gained a new perspective on life. I realized that at 15 years of age, I had no clue what life was really about and to my surprise--I didn't know it all. The relationship with my mother changed as well. My mother and I worked together to make a happy home for my younger siblings. I knew that I was a kid, but there was no way I could go back to being a kid--my mother needed me too much.

The only after school activities I continued my involvement in was FBLA (Future Business Leaders of America), Student Secretaries, Student Council, Biology Lab Assistant, Color Guard and Drama Club. I was always involved in many activities. I was on the school newspaper and I wrote for the school magazine--FREE SPIRIT. This magazine was the best of the school's writers, artists and poets collected into a published magazine. Writing has always been a passion of mine--I have kept a journal since age 11 and I still write in one to this day. I had planned on writing a fictional novel based loosely on my life, but now, I have decided to write an autobiography of my life--truth is always stranger than fiction.

I gave up most of my childhood antics except I still liked 'tormenting' my younger siblings. One thing I never gave up was being the family prankster and instigator. My poor brother, Donald, suffered the most from my antics, followed closely by my sister, Dana. I tortured those two all the time. My sister, Donna Jean, well she had enough problems and I tried to help her--see Donna had a severe learning disability and no one was allowed to torment her--my rule. I always felt that if you were the underdog, that wasn't level playing ground--so Donna was off limits to everyone.

As I digress, my mother and I spent a lot of time together and I knew her better than any of my siblings. My mother; however, was closer to my sister, Dana and my brother, Donald than she was to me. I never understood why she treated me a lot different than them--later in life I realized why. My mother viewed me as her support system and not as a child that wanted her acceptance and approval. Before my mother passed away, she told me that she loved me and respected me for giving up so much. She also let me know she was very proud of all my accomplishments in life. The one accomplishment she was most proud of was my going to college.

At age 15, I acquired a paper route from a classmate and neighbor. This was my first employment...LOL. I learned that I had a knack of cheering people up and a gift for gabbing--as an English teacher in 8th grade used to call me FlapJaw..funny name huh??? Anyway, I met a lot of wonderful people on that route and each and every one of them got to know me well and I used to get cookies, books and bonus money from all my customers. I really loved Christmas time for the two years I had my paper route--I got big time loot that I saved to help me finance my way through college. I knew my mother wouldn't be able to fullfill my father's wish to send all his children to college so I saved, borrowed and worked my way through college. I had worked some horrible jobs while I was in college. One job was working for the dean of my dormitory--typing all her syllabus', helping her grade papers, cleaning her on-campus apartment and watching her daughter when I wasn't in class--she paid well, but she was a perfectionist to a fault. I had another job working in the student lounge--this job was boring. I guess you get the idea.

School work was always a cinch for me except for math...I could never get the hang of algebra or trigonometry--although I took both classes. To show you how I hate failing at anything, two years ago, I took an algebra class at the local community college and surprise--I got an A!!! I guess I could have done better in math in high school if I had applied myself more.

College was a unique experience for me. I never had problems in my studies, but I had problems with my new found freedom. Being raised by bible toting, hellfire breathing pastors, the 'looseness' of college life was overwhelming to me. In college, every form of 'sin' imaginable was running rampant and I loved every minute of it--or so I convinced myself I did. For the first time in my life, I made my own decisions on what I wanted to do. Drugs were never a problem for me, but alcohol--mainly Schlitz Malt Liquor (The Red Bull) as we called it was my pathway to a new found destruction.

When I enrolled in college during my freshman year, the freshman dorms were filled so I was placed in an upperclassmen dorm--my next door neighbor was in the ROTC and she was a wild woman. Ursula was her name and she threw major parties. My mother made sure when I went away to school, I had a fridge, a hot plate and plenty food--she didn't trust the school cafeteria. Well, Ursula and I became well acquainted because of my fridge...hmm, it was never stocked with food--but I had plenty Red Bull. The deal was I kept the fridge stocked for Ursula's parties and I got to keep her television for the duration of the semester and all the beer I could drink. In addition to the beer, Ursula also provided gin, vodka, thunderbird, sloe gin and any other wild concotion she could come up with for her parties. Being young, dumb and naive, I became heavily involved in drinking. I found drinking numbed feelings and being numb, I didn't have to face nightmares from my past. Thus, began my one and only episode with heavy drinking. Drinking also led to my next series of problems. To this day, I hate beer and I especially hate malt liquor.

I was a Q'Essence during my freshman year--in short, all that means is a gopher for pledges of a fraternity. Each fraternity had their own gophers--Kappa Alpha Psi had the Kappa Sweethearts, Alpha Phi Alpha had the Alpha Angels and so on. This particular fraternity was Omega Psi Phi. What the Q'Essence girls did was cook for the pledges, wash their clothes and other things (sometimes the big brothers were less than honorable in their treatment of the Q'Essence girls).

I also pledged a sorority--Delta Sigma Theta. That was the time of my life. For once in my life, I felt like I belonged to something and had a purpose. My fellow sorors made me feel special.

College was a wonderful experience for me--I learned independence and also I matured in ways that enhanced my life. No longer was I the mischievous girl from Pittsburgh, now I was growing into a professional. It was at this time I decided my career path and although the path I chose did not work out I still gained knowledge, insight and self-confidence.

After returning home after the end of the 1985 semester, my husband proposed at Thanksgiving and we got married in December. It all happened so fast. To this day, I don't know what happened. All I know is I met and fell in love with one of Pittsburgh's finest and most refined catches of the day. A lot of hearts were broken the day I married Ernie. I never dreamed in a million years that I would have the opportunity to marry a person quite like him. My husband has natural muscle--he never lifted weights, but has the body of a professional body builder, he has hazel eyes and a smile that lights up the darkest days. He also is very caring and can make you laugh even when you want to knock his lights out...LOL. Hubby and I have been together for 13 years and in those 13 years, we have suffered through many, many heartaches--but we suffered and overcame them together. We are not perfect--and we still get on each other's last nerve at times, but we are here, we are together and most importantly we respect and listen to each other. A very difficult feat for two of the world's most stubborn and obstinate people..ROTFLMAO.

Okay now, you know a little more about who CG really is and hopefully this little insight will help you get to know me a little better in the future. I am a very open and honest person and truly believe that my shortcomings and failures in life can help someone see that one can overcome even the biggest obstacle set in their path.

In a lifetime, many people come through our lives. Sometimes these people impact our lives in such a way that they leave an impression long after they have gone. Many times, the person never knows how they touched your life and the difference they made.

To all of you who have touched my life--I say thank you. Not only have you brightened my life in some way--but you have also brought your wisdom and knowledge from personal experience to share with me in my many times of need. God bless each and everyone of you as you continue your journey down life's highway.

Life teaches us many lessons. Some lessons are to test our patience, some lessons are to boost our spirits and lift our morale and some lessons shattered our lives into many tiny fragments. These are the lessons that either make us stronger or make us fail to succeed.

In my life, I have been through many tragic lessons that life enrolled me in. No one asked me if I wanted to participate in the lesson plan nor did they ask was I willing to stay in the class. My first real experience with tragedy was as described in the Getting to Know CG section.

My next lesson in tragedy was when my father, Charles Edward McClure, died when I was 13 years old. My dad was the most gentle and caring man I had and ever have known. He was not arrogant or self-effacing nor did he bolster or brag about his many accomplishments. Anyone who met my father would have never imagined all the great things he had achieved in his lifetime. I didn't get to know my dad very well and only after his death did I really grasp the magnitude of his many wonderful accomplishments and achievements.

I knew my dad played three different instruments--but I never knew until much later in my life that my dad played in many of the late greats' bands and orchestras while he attended college, majoring in math. My dad was a very accomplished french horn, trumpet and piano player. I remember as a small child listening to my dad blow his trumpet in the basement den--playing anything from ragtime to gospel. When my dad played, he did it in solitude--never allowing anyone to enter his private sanctuary where he escaped into his music. After hearing him play his trumpet for a while, he would move onto his french horn and then to the piano where he played his own arrangements or old time favorites. My love of music was born because of my dad. For many hours I would sit and listen to him play at the top of the stairs leading to his basement hideaway. On a few occasions, my dad would allow me and my three siblings to sit in and watch him play. We were his audience as he reminisced about the days he played trumpet for Count Bassie or tell us about Billie Holliday. He played in her band for the majority of her troubled career. Yes, my dad was very special. All who knew him affectionately referred to him as "Uncle Charlie", but to me he was just "dad."

My dad had other major accomplishments in his life. He graduated college summa cum laude -- not bad for a man coming from a mixed background in the deep, dark south of his era. My dad's mother was an African/American Indian and his dad was an Irish/ American Indian who passed through life as a white man. My dad never talked about his parents or childhood much and as I've matured feel that his music was his escape from the traumas he suffered in his life.

Growing up with my dad, I always had a sense that something had deeply hurt him in his life. Something that was so painful that he buried it deep in his subconscious and never let it come to the surface. When I would look into my dad's eyes, I saw compassion. But along with the compassion I saw there, I also saw pain and sadness. My dad's eyes danced when he was happy--they had a sparkle that was indescribable, but when he was in deep thought--there was a deep sadness that took hold of him and it showed in his eyes. I have always wished that my dad had lived longer and that I had had the opportunity to get to know him better.

My dad's other accomplishments in life superceded anything you could ever learn sitting in a classroom. My dad was a great husband to my mother and a devoted father to his children. I can honestly say I had never seen my dad disrespect or raise his voice to my mother--and there were times when he would have been justified if he had. My mother wasn't a difficult woman, but she was very persistent when it came to what she wanted, when she wanted them and how she wanted them. My dad never seemed to mind though, he would have tried to give us the moon if that's what she/we wanted. He may not have known how he was going to do it, but he would die trying.

My dad was provided everything as he never believed that a woman should have to work for the things she wanted in life. My mother, from the day she married my father, never had to do a day's work. My dad managed to provide mother with all her heart ever desired and more. He couldn't say no to her. There was one time he said no and this was the only time I saw my father cry--he cried because my mother threw him out the bedroom. Suffice it to say, mother got what she wanted and dad never said no again.

People often wonder where I get my patience from. I know where I got it from--DAD. My dad never seemed to stress over anything and was the most patient person you could ever meet. No, my dad wasn't a saint--and yes, I had seen my dad get extremely angry but he never brought that home nor did he ever yell or get angry with us. He would lecture the hell out of you, but he never got angry. Or if he was angry, he hid it very well...LOL Mother always said my dad had the patience of Job.

I have wonderful memories of my father and cherised all the time we had together, but life interfered and my died passed away peaceful in his sleep one night. As with his life, my dad made no fuss, he burdened no one--he just slept into his next life. The autopsy showed that my dad suffered from arteriosclerosis (hardening of the arteries) and that he suffered a massive heart attack in his sleep. They say he didn't feel a thing--and I have always prayed that they were right. To my dad, for the lesson in humility, compassion and for my great love of music. I hope he has found the peace he deserved in his new life.