Introduce Yourself: Introducing Guest Author William Ablan

 

What is your name and where are you from?

Thanks a lot for the opportunity to introduce myself, and I hope I do your space proud.  So here goes.

When I was a child, I asked one thing of God. I asked that I never live a boring life.  I just know the minute I made that prayer that God leaned back, smiled, and said: “Okay, buckle up Mr. Adventure!”I guess you really need to be careful what you ask for. You just might get it. My name is William Ablan (not my real name, of course).  I write under a pen name for one reason.  About seventy-five percent of what I write about happened, and doing so under a pen name gives me the chance to put some distance between me and it.  More on that later.

Okay Mr. Adventure, what was your childhood dream?

I was raised a cowboy, and I can do all the cowboy stuff to include riding, roping, branding, and so on. I’m the son of a rancher but realized at an early age that wasn’t the life I wanted.  My eyes were fixed on the stars, and I wanted to ride a rocket into space (still might someday). I took my degree in the second most useless thing in the world and then couldn’t find a job.

Aww. That sucks. What then?

Two months later they called, and I spent the next twenty years being a police officer.  As I said, I wanted adventure, and I got it.  I worked not only the streets but undercover narcotics, plainclothes investigations, protected VIPs, been an Undersheriff and a Chief of Police.  I can’t say I regretted my time working in Law Enforcement.  During that time I’ve been assaulted several times, stabbed twice, and shot at a few times.  It opened my eyes to the dark side of the human race.

It also showed me that there’s good in everyone.  Sometimes, you have to dig to find it, but it’s there.  Sometimes the last person on Earth you’d think would be at your side are the ones trying desperately to save the life of a stranger, or going into a dangerous situation and doing something heroic.  Or something as simple as being vulnerable to try to talk to someone.  The good is there, and when people let it out, it’s dazzling.

With, you being a former law enforcement officer, I have to ask. What do you think of police brutality in the black community? How would you solve this problem?

Any brutality isn’t good. I think I’m ill-equipped to answer that question.  The towns and counties I was a police officer in had no black community.  That said, it still happened, maybe not to blacks, but certainly other races.  I knew Hispanic cops that got themselves in a bind being racist against whites, and the reverse is also true.  But I also knew Hispanic cops who brutalized their own and the same concerning whites. The first time I was around a lot of blacks was when I was in the military.  I never had any problems and count a huge number of blacks among my best friends.

What’s the answer?  I wish I knew.  Part of me says better training and better screening of potential police officers.  I suspect the truth is simply being a better human being.  I only know one way to get that, and that involves God.

William, what are your thoughts on race in general?

The genealogy stuff factors in with my views on race.  I don’t get it.  From what I’ve been able to learn, my ancestors got ran out of almost every decent country around, got here, and ran into more of my ancestors who did their best to scalp them.  Somehow they managed to get along long enough to produce me.  I’ve got blood connections to almost every people who have ever walked the Earth with the possible exceptions of China, Japan, and India (and it wouldn’t surprise me too much to find out it’s folded in there someplace).

Now an admission I wish I didn’t have to make.  My parents were rather racist, especially against whites (and here I am, half white)  I found their views disgusting.  They openly expressed hate, and I thought that’s not logical.  By their thinking, I’m having to hate part of me.  I guess I’ve extended that thinking to all people since I have a pretty good idea of what became me.

Available now on Amazon

Let’s talk about writing a bit. Why did you start writing?

I started writing because I’m into genealogy.  I always heard stories about some of my ancestors, and with very few exceptions, none of them left more than the barest records of what they’d done and who they were.  In some cases, the stories I heard weren’t true.

I can understand that for sure…

An example is my great, great grandfather.  The story I heard was he was in the Confederate army, had been captured, and spent the war in the Union POW camp in Allentown.  Now, granted, the POW system back then was a mess, but if you spent four years someplace, you would think your name would turn up.  I could never find anything from the Confederate Army reference him either.  Then one day, I got an unexpected break.  Turns out he was never in the Confederacy, but in the Union Army.  And he was an officer to boot.  Where did the other story come from?  Near as I can figure that since he was from North Carolina, they made it up so he wouldn’t get beat up!  Later, he and his family came out west with the Mormon’s, and he was a General in their militia.  I’d love to have known his stories and heard what he had to say.

What a story.

So, that’s why I started writing.  I’ve not only been in places where history was being made but in some cases, helped shape it.  I didn’t want my great, great grandchildren trying to figure out who I was.  I’d leave a record for them.

But writing it down involved taking a step away from myself.  Some of the events were still pretty raw and I had to report the best I could.  I invented a character and inflicted my adventures on him.  And a really funny thing began to happen.  I discovered writing was healing.

I take it you are religious William…

Yes.  I’m a Christian.  Now why I’m a Christian involves what I could know I’m capable of being.  In the Bible, we read the story of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector.  The Pharisee stood in the temple telling God how cool he was, and that he did this and that.  Basically, he was telling God that God was lucky to have him on his side.  The Tax Collector didn’t do that.  The Bible tells us he stood there, admitting again and again that he a sinner.  The Bible tells us it was the Tax collector who went away justified before God because he was being honest with God.

Well, I was the Pharisee.  As a Police Officer, I saw it my duty to protect the world, and while I never abused anyone, took bribes, or such, I was viewing myself as the perfect person.  It’s easy to do.  What I didn’t realize is there was a monster in me.

I see…

One day, I ran into it.  We were in Saudi Arabia, a few short days from invading Iraq.  We had a Platoon Sgt who was horrible at best, incompetent at worse.  He thought you pushed combat troops the same way you push recruits (you don’t, in case you’re wondering). He went down with us saying he wanted to get the purple heart.  By day two, we were all willing to help him.

So, we’re breaking down and getting ready to move up to the border when he comes up and starts screaming at me about something.  To this day I can’t tell you what he said.  All I know what something in me said, “Screw him!”  as he turned and started walking away, I suddenly felt a hand on top of mine.  A friend of mine was whispering in my ear, “Will, he’s not worth it.”  My pistol was halfway out of its holster.  My friend had stopped me from doing something incredibly stupid.  Had he not been there, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.

You got some stories in you William!

I got a glimpse of the monster in us, and it terrified me.  I realized I was no better than some of the people I’d sent to prison for murder.  It was a very humbling encounter.  That night, I prayed, maybe for the first time in ages.  I asked God that if he got me out of this intact, and my mind sane, I’d serve him.  And I thanked him for putting someone in my life for stopping me from killing that man.

It was six months before I started trying to keep that promise.  Today, I can’t imagine ever having been the guy who almost killed a man.

Enough heavy stuff.

Okay. Let’s switch it up a bit. Tell us more about you, what foods do you like? Music? That stuff.

I’m a huge fan of hamburgers.

Lol! Yes to hamburgers!

While I love County-Western music, and Rock, I spend most of my time listening to Classical music, especially when I’m writing. I’m into some of the newer stuff that has a classical sound to it (think the soundtrack to Tron by Daft Punk).

Umm.. no idea who that is but carry on.

And if there was a single artist I could shadow, it would be the country artist Charles Russell.  I’d enjoyed spending an afternoon with him riding across the open plains.  He wrote about and painted the land he loved.  I guess it’s his passion I’d want to tap into.

What genre do you write in?

I write what can best be called Police Adventure. I published my first book last year.  It’s called the Cross and the Badge, and to a large degree is about learning to live with the pains of the past. My next book is a direct sequel called “Dead Friends.” I’m aiming for a release date of 1 Sep.

Congratulations on the new release! I don’t think we discussed what you are doing now.

My wife and I live in a not so little town anymore called Greeley, Colorado. Some of my fondest memories is time spent with her. Like when we’d be coming back late at night from a gig she’d played (she played in a Country-Western band), stop under a star-filled sky, and talk until dawn.

I’ve children and grandchildren and could acquire great grandchildren here real soon.  I’ve threatened my grand kids with death if they do that to me anytime soon.  I’m too young to be a Great Grandfather.

And I like to introduce myself as a Writer who moonlights as a Systems Administrator.  I’ve been working in Information Technology for over twenty years now.  People consider me an expert (definition of an Expert – Someone who knows nothing about everything…)

Ha!

…in Virtualization, Information Security, and Disaster Recovery.  I must know something about it.  I also teach it.

If you had a superpower that could chance the world, what would it be?

It’s odd that one of your questions would be about having a superpower and using it to change the world.  I think I discovered I had a superpower while I was a police officer.  It was the ability to change lives, often times for the good.  Granted, there are people I sent to prison.  I thank God we have prisons to put some of those people in (some of them were a lot dangerous or crazy or whatever.  Suffice it to say, they killed people and enjoyed it).  But often times I was able to intervene in things and get people the help they needed to get them off the path that led to those places.  I guess if the superpower had a name it would be called “caring.”  I found myself being a mentor, a counselor, and an encourager.  As I see it, I’d been placed in a unique position, and I’d be a fool not to try to help people out.

While I hung up my guns over twenty years ago, I still find myself helping people.  As part of my church, I find myself working closely with veterans, gang members, and people life has beat up.  And I suppose in some crazy way, that answers one of your questions about what love is.  I know there’s the love I have for my wife, children, and grandchildren, but this is the kind of love Jesus has I suppose.  The kind of love that tells someone that they’re important and not something to be feared or cast aside.  I always remember that one of the miracles he performed was with a leper.  A leper was someone who should never be touched.  Before Jesus healed him, he touched him.  He acknowledged that person as important.  To me, that was a true miracle.

So, you don’t need to be able to fly, or have knives come out of your wrist to change the world.  Sometimes you just need to stand up and try.

Thank you William for spending this time with us. We enjoyed you!


Copyright©2019 William Ablan

Bio.

William R. Ablan is a graduate of Adams State University in Alamosa, Colorado where he majored in Astronomy and Physics.  Because of the tough job market, he spent the next twenty years in Law Enforcement where he’s worked as a Police Officer and Deputy Sheriff.  He’s also held several important positions to include Undersheriff, Chief of Police, and Regional Emergency Manager for the San Luis Valley.  He’s also an eight-year U.S. Army combat veteran where he served as a Military Policeman where he worked undercover narcotics and investigations.  He’s been decorated several times for heroism and performance in both Law Enforcement and the Military.

He’s currently the author of “The Cross and the Badge.” His second book, “Dead Friends” will be released September 1, 2019.  It’s what he calls, Autobiographical fiction in that the majority of the cases happened, but he’s taken some literary license with the facts to turn them into a work of fiction.

Will hung up his guns in the 90s, and has work in the Information Technology field since.  He’s considered an expert in Network Security, Cloud Technologies, and Virtualization.

He resides in Greeley, Colorado with his wife Julie and works with veterans through his local church.  He has children and grandchildren, and currently lives in dread of possibly becoming a great grandfather.

Be Sure to Follow this Author Online!

https://williamablan.wordpress.com/


Are you an author? Looking for more exposure? Learn more about my Introduce Yourself Feature HERE. (Now scheduling for June. Slots fill up fast. Email me today.)

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The Reading Room

Do you have a reading room? I do!

Mr. Couch. EC’s Reading Room

Introducing Mr. Couch. This baby is more comfortable than any other piece of furniture in the house. No lie. More than my bed, more than the sofa’s up front. Everything. This baby grabs your buttocks and pulls you into the cushions. Your butt will never experience anything comfier. It then takes the rest of your body and molds itself to your shape so that you fall in. Careful or you’ll find yourself sleeping on the couch from pure bliss.

Books, Kindle, Notepad, Pen

Of course, a reading room is not a reading room without books. All you need is books, a Kindle (or e-reader of your choice), a notepad and pen. On occasion you can bring your mobile to quickly look stuff up BUT I warn you, the internet will distract you! To get the most out of your reading room, leave your mobile device in the other rooms!

Ahh, yes. The window. No reading room is complete without a window. Not just any window, but one that lets in plenty of sunlight. I always sit right here on the end closer to the window. This is where you can find me reading  your books! Book Reviews are born right here in the reading room. This is my place of solitude where some serious thinking goes on.

War on the Reading Room!

The reading room is empty. There’s nothing here but the big comfy couch, window, books, and an old desk. But, the reading room is under attack people. It appears Mr. Ysrayl is trying to turn it into a man cave!

Exhibit A

Suddenly, military plaques appear on the walls. Now, I’m not the smartest person in the world but Mr. Ysrayl does happen to be a veteran. You may say “EC, you’re reaching a bit, come on!” That is when I will point you to Exhibit B.

Exhibit B

Again, I’m not the smartest person in the world but…… ???? WHO does these items belong to? Look at the carpet people, the reading room can’t handle this kind of equipment!

Ysrayl could not be reached for a picture. His lawyers said he has no comment. I wonder WHY???

Brothers and sisters. I think we have enough to convict Mr. Ysrayl with conspiracy to transform the reading room into a man cave. I don’t know what we’re going to do. Unless we add another book shelf to the reading room AND something pink to reestablish our domain. Man cave, you’re going down!

To be continued.

Guest Feature: Waiting for Someone – Lamar Jorden

“Somewhere
In the Northwest region of Seattle Washington
There’s a homeless man, armed with a beer can
Trying to drink away war memories
Waiting for someone
Self-less enough to lend him an ear
He sits on the side of a Pizzeria on the corner of Queen Ann and Mercer
In a chair, they probably kick him out of after business hours
His skin
Has grown all too fond of the concrete beds that he rest his shell-shocked head on
His braggadocios body
rocks back and forth showing off to the world the only gifts war veterans ever receive
He addresses me, “Ey lil Bra, you got a dollar?”
Without even checkin my pockets I tell him, “I aint got it”.
Having anticipated this appointment he responds with,
“That’s fine, cause I really wanted a 20.”
Amazed, not that he still knows what humor is,

but that is one of the few possessions that the war actually let him keep, I laugh
Before digging into my coat pocket filled with a ton of change I’ll probably never use
He lets me know that more than a 20, what he really wanted was a conversation
And takes my 75 cent donation as an invitation to start one
Without offering much space for me to converse,

he lets me know how in this country,
war veterans are rarely anything more
Than patriotic flies on a wall
And that for all these people to ignore his request
Is just as second nature as swatting at a pest
I guess
None of them realize that here lie their tax dollars at work
His body jerks
To the percussion of his bones
Dancing to the song of post-traumatic stress syndrome
How wrong
Is it of humans to lack humanity
Demanding he keep his lips locked but
Possess the audacity to ask where he got his army cap on
To think it’s a trigger you can purchase at a gift shop he tells me
That they’ve labeled him as crazy and they say

he has to take medicine called percadine but the one time he took it
It made him high so why would he continue when it makes his mind worse with time
It seems like the perfect crime
Having people fight for a country that won’t fight for them
The goal
Was for one of those countries to take his life from him
And the opposing country failed when he
Returned to civilization but
The home country would succeed by stripping him of his home
How long
Will this be the standard in this country?
Where if war doesn’t kill you
They distill you
Sending you back home just to rot and mildew
the phrase
“War is good for absolutely nothing”, is still true
Before he lets me go,
he tells me
that he wants to die.
And I see the tear-shaped white flag surrender from his eye
I give him a pound
Before digging back into my coat pockets surrendering

the rest of the change I found.
I tell him I have to go
Cause there’s a white man, screaming at me through traffic
Waiting for me to end this conversation
There’s a young lady at a bar and grill across the street
Waiting for me to join her for dinner
And there’s a poem
Scratching at the insides of my soul
Waiting for me
To tell this story.”

Copyright Lamar Jorden