The book traces true episodes in the life of the author; beginning with the three years (ages 2½ to 5½) endured in an orphanage under the hateful eye of a sadistic cottage mother. It then records several humorous accounts of his days in what he likes to call "another man's army!" This is followed by reflections, some not so intellectually inspired, on his college days. A brief detour to the present allows reminiscences of his recent doctoral experiences from the head down (or vice versa). A retired teacher, the author then resurrects some incidents, both humorous and poignant, witnessed during his thirty-year career. The book ends with a compilation of all the non-secular songs the author has composed over the last two years. So the book begins with "HER" and ends with "Hymn!"

The author was born in the small hamlet of Badin, North Carolina, in 1932. He spent from September 1934, to May 1937, in an orphanage; his particular cottage managed by an unbalanced matron. That this early experience greatly influenced the rest of his life should be evident to the reader early on. From childhood, he dreamed of becoming either an entertainer (singer) or a teacher. He received more encouragement in the latter pursuit. He received his Master's Degree in Education from UNC - Chapel Hill. He taught in the Asheboro City School System (Asheboro, North Carolina) for thirty years; the last twenty years teaching the academically talented language arts - social studies program in the South Asheboro (Junior) Middle School. He also served as Director of Secondary Social Studies in the system for a period of time.

Upon his retirement, he began researching his family's genealogy. What disappointed him the most in this pursuit was the lack of writings attributed to the names of those researched. He hoped somewhat to rectify that by leaving a personal history behind that some future family researcher might find rewarding. The innovative First Books program has given him the opportunity to share this labor of love with a wider audience; not only with his autobiographical sketches; but also with his non-secular compositions, the lyrics of which are contained in the latter part of the book. A large percentage of any profits from this book will go toward various charities founded by the author; in particular, The Richard Thomas Howell Personal Achievement Award presented annually to individual students at the two middle schools of the Asheboro City School System.

"At the far end of this dorm there was a small bathroom with two toilets, a sink (I only remember there being one sink.) and a bathtub. (Note: A child was not permitted to use a bathroom, for any reason, except in the 'group' concept; that is to say, all children were to go - lined up to await their turn - at specified times only. Individual needs or urges were not tolerated; so there were sometimes 'accidents,' which brought about savage punishments. These were usually in the form of a severe switching, preceded by being thrown about in a tub of cold water. As a result, I developed remarkable 'holding' capabilities, which have stood me in good stead to this day. But 'damp' clothes or the slightest sign of 'leakage' was a peril to be avoided as much as possible because of the punishment that could result. I always regarded the room with the tub as a sort of 'chamber of horrors;' for its sole function seemed to be for the purpose of punishing any child unfortunate enough to have wet the bed during the night, or to have wet on him/herself during the day. I do not recall the tub's being used for any other purpose besides dousing a child in cold water (no matter the season) - nearly to the point of drowning him/her (It seemed at the time.) - while all the other children were commanded to form a circle around the tub as Old Lady Bannister dumped cold water on the wretched child, accompanied by vicious slaps to the face and head. The children were instructed to wag their forefingers derisively at the culprit and chant the ditty, 'Wet Baby! Wet Baby!' until Bannister tired of her sport, or the child was turning blue with cold, or she deemed he/she had 'learned his/her lesson': not to pee on himself/herself or wet the bed. Upon being dragged out of the tub by Bannister, the poor unfortunate was not finished being punished: oh, there was more. Naked and dripping, the child was then forced to enter the large 'playroom/assembly room' that opened from the 'chamber-of-horrors.' There, we other children were to sit in the little half-circle of chairs that we had been specifically assigned; there to witness the second phase of the punishment; still pointing our fingers and chanting the 'Wet Baby' chant. All This, while Old Lady Bannister whipped the child from head to toe with a switch. When she had satisfied herself that her point had been made and fully understood by recipient as well as 'audience,' she ceased the switching and motioned the teenage girl to take the forlorn creature away to be dressed and returned to the group. Believe me, I never wet the bed; and, as I've said, I developed remarkable kidney/bladder 'holding' powers. I remember distinctly several children who were daily put through this hell; one little boy in particular, who obviously suffered from the condition called enuresis; for this child endured this cold-water/switching routine the entire time I knew him."