From Darkness to Light

by David L Dyer

Overview

David L. Dyer, brother to world-renowned motivational speaker Dr. Wayne Dyer, has his own inspirational story to share. It took David sixty-eight years and the life-altering diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease to truly grasp the signifi cance of his brother’s famous mantra, “Do not die with your music still in you.” Once he did, however,he was able to use his gift of language—a long-suppressed talent—to confront the demons that have haunted him for decades.

In his memoir, From Darkness to Light, David recalls stories of his life, from his earliest memories to his most recent years. He recounts childhood memories of playing with Wayne, two years his junior; going into foster care after his father abandoned his family; facing bullies and teasing; and struggling to learn to swim. As he grew older and drifted away from his close friendship with Wayne, David turned to partying and alcohol—and the latter would stay with him for years. He later joined the army and found himself serving in Vietnam, where he witnessed horrific events that would aff ect him for decades to come.

From Darkness to Light takes a cathartic journey through the events of one man’s life, following him up to the present. It celebrates the bond of brotherhood, and it embraces David as a boy, as a veteran, and as the man he is today.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781452548838
Publisher:	Balboa Press
Publication date:	04/26/2012
Pages:	170
Product dimensions:	5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.56(d)

Read an Excerpt

From Darkness to Light

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By DAVID L . DYER

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2012 David L. Dyer
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4525-4882-1

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Chapter One

My First Memories

My story begins with my earliest memories. It was winter of 1942/43. We lived on Piper Street on the east side of Detroit. Wayne was two years old; I was four. My brother Jim, who was six at the time, wasn't there. He must have been at my grandmother's house.

There was a lot of snow and ice on the ground. Wayne and I were sliding around on the ice on the sidewalk in front of our home. When Wayne fell, my mother hollered at me from the upstairs window and told me to stop pushing him. A few minutes later, he fell again, and she yelled at me once more. The third time he fell, even though he had fallen on his own, we both had to go inside.

I remember playing marbles with Wayne on the floor of the living room. A Murphy bed was in the room. It seemed that whenever we pulled the bed out of the wall, it was so large that it filled up the entire room.

Why have I given so much ink to those two memories? For some reason, those are my earliest and only memories of that time period. This may seem strange, but my memory stops at that point, and I don't recall anything until age seven. I have no memory of ages five or six.

While I don't remember it, something tragic occurred when we lived on Piper Street. Our father walked out of our lives and left our mother to raise three young children alone.

My father never returned, and we never heard from him again. While I have no memory of him—I was only four when he left us—I've never heard anyone say anything positive about him. I do know that when he left, our family was broken apart. With a limited income, Mother had absolutely nowhere to turn for help except to her parents. My grandparents were able take one of us in. Jim went to live with them.

Over the next six years, Wayne and I would be boarded out to several different foster homes. We'd see our mother, grandparents, and Jim infrequently. Fortunately, Wayne and I weren't separated. We had each other and unto each other we clung.

Chapter Two

Mt. Clemens Musings

Whenever someone mentions the city of Mt. Clemens, I immediately think of Wayne. I believe that Wayne, likewise, would immediately think of me. That's really amazing, considering that our time there was relatively short. In contrast, I spent almost twenty years of my adult life making the hundred-mile daily commute from my home southeast of Detroit to my job copying medical records at a Mt. Clemens hospital and back. Yet when I hear of Mt. Clemens, I don't think of the long drive or my former job. I think of Wayne, and the childhood memories come flooding back.

In September of 1946, Wayne and I were sent to live with Mr. and Mrs. Scarf and three or four other children at 231 Town Hall Road in Mt. Clemens, Michigan. Wayne and I were always together in those early days. We enjoyed doing kid-things, like listening to Joe Louis fights on the radio or cutting out pictures of baseball players and box scores from the newspaper and pasting them into scrapbooks. How I wish I had saved those scrapbooks!

Every Sunday, the Scarfs made us go to church. One of my fondest memories involves Wayne and me walking up Town Hall Road to the nearby Baptist church where we'd eagerly watch the newly saved get baptized. They were completely submerged in water, fully clothed and all.

Other vivid memories from Mt. Clemens include gathering eggs every morning and watching the chickens hatch. When the chickens grew into hens, they were fair game for dinner. Killing chickens became our job, so Wayne and I would scatter feed in the center of the coop. We'd grab a hen by the feet, take her to the chopping block, lop off her head, and watch as she flopped around for a couple minutes. Then we'd drop her into boiling water and pull off the feathers. Soon she became our Sunday dinner. This seemed to be an every– Sunday ritual. I can't imagine doing it today!

When Wayne and I arrived in Mt. Clemens, the first priority was enrolling us in school, which had already been in session for two weeks. Wayne, who was six, went into first grade. Since I would be eight in a month, I was placed in the third grade. Remember earlier when I mentioned that I had no recollection of ages five and six? To this day I have no memory of schooling prior to the third grade. I can recall, however, with great clarity the apprehension I felt when placed in a class of students who were older and had more schooling than me. The students were also physically much larger than me.

I didn't know it at the time, but I had been born with serious health issues. My mother had a difficult time carrying me during pregnancy, and I was born with a condition called anemia, a blood deficiency that may have resulted in my being unusually small for my age. It wasn't until my early teens that I would experience what's known as a growth spurt.

When my third–grade teacher introduced me to the class, I was no bigger than a first–grader. I can still hear the laughter today. Because of my size, I was ripe for bullying. It didn't take long for it to start.

Usually I waited for Wayne after school, and we walked home together. One day, I decided to walk home by myself. As I made my way home, I heard a bunch of kids behind me.

"Hey, there's a third-grader!" one of them shouted.

I started to walk faster.

"Let's get him!" they cried.

I started running. Before I knew it, I was on the ground. A first-grader was on top of me, swinging his arms and hitting me. I could do nothing but cry. When I finally freed myself, I ran home, locked myself in my bedroom, and cried for an hour.

I never told Wayne about that incident, which means I told no one. In those days, Wayne and I only had each other. We confided in each other about everything, but the bullying was just too humiliating—especially since I was a year and a half older than him and two grades ahead of him in school.

The bullying continued throughout the year, but it was never serious enough to do any physical harm. It did impact me emotionally and made me hate school. I spent more time dodging bullies than I did on schoolwork. That coupled with the fact that whatever was being taught always seemed to be over my head made for a truly miserable school experience.

The next year, when I turned nine and Wayne seven, he had pretty much caught up to me in size and strength. Wayne would never mention this or rub it in. In fact, he always looked at me as his "big" brother and would tell me and everyone else how strong I was. After we taught ourselves to play baseball, he always told everyone what a great ballplayer I was.

I never told Wayne about the bullying, and it never happened in his presence. I do think he heard about it, though, and suspected that something was wrong. One day after school, Wayne revealed to me that another kid was picking on him. Rather than keeping it to himself as I had done, Wayne told me. I admired his courage.

Wayne told this bully that he was going to get his big brother to beat him up. What was he thinking? I didn't know how to fight. How in the heck did he think I could beat anyone up? Besides, the boy was a third-grader and bigger than both Wayne and me.

Wayne calmly told me not to worry.

"You won't have to fight him; just scare him off."

What I'm about to write really happened. I believe this incident is a precursor to what Wayne's mission in life was destined to become. Remember, Wayne was only seven years old when he devised a plan for me to gain much-needed confidence by facing my fears and standing up to a bully. Wayne's plan at age seven already employed principles he talks about today, such as mind-over-matter and self-realization. Amazingly, his plan worked.

The next day Wayne and I approached the boy when he was alone. Although I was shaking in my boots and had no idea what I'd say or do, I walked up to him. The boy looked frightened as he stared back at me. I didn't have to do or say anything. It seems that Wayne's comments about my strength and age did the trick. The boy didn't stick around to find out if they were true. I'll never forget that bright, wide smile on Wayne's face when the boy ran off.

Word spread quickly about how tough Wayne's older brother was, and the bullying subsided for the rest of the time I was at that school, which was another full year. It was during this time that I realized there was something special in the future for Wayne. I could actually see or dream of Wayne walking into a room full of people, where his presence alone would light up that room.

I can't help but think that this early childhood incident also instilled in Wayne a sense of self-confidence and an early self-awareness of the power of projection, positive thinking, and self-actualization. He seemed to grasp these concepts naturally and practice them at a young age, although it would be years before he could fully understand or articulate them. Wayne had the uncanny knack, even back then, to see the strengths in me and others, even if we didn't see them, and then to make us believe in our abilities. This would become one of his strong traits that would lead him to where he is today.

Decades later, my wife Janet, my toddler son David–Scott, and I attended a local speaking engagement where Wayne was the featured speaker. We arrived early and mingled with the other guests. Excitement permeated the air as we all anticipated Wayne's arrival. Suddenly, it seemed as if the room appeared brighter. I turned slightly and there stood Wayne, smiling. For a moment I again saw that seven–year– old kid with his big, bright smile, who possessed a sense of self-awareness far beyond his years. I realized then that my vision or dream as a nine–year–old had come true too.

Not only did I stand up to a bully that year, but another exciting event occurred in fourth grade. Up to that point, I had hated school, and unfortunately, I was never able to move past this. That year, though, I experienced a brief moment of joy when I discovered that I possessed an aptitude for spelling.

One day the teacher told us to line up around the classroom. We were going to have a spelling bee. Every student was given a word to spell. If it was spelled incorrectly, they'd sit down. There I was, competing against classmates who had much more schooling than I did and who were up to a year older. Yet there wasn't a word given to anyone that I couldn't spell.

Yes, I won that contest and received a standing ovation. I beamed with pride and had never felt so happy. I went home and told Mrs. Scarf, but she didn't seem very interested. Of course, I told Wayne the good news. He was the only person with whom I could share what I call the greatest experience in my first ten years of life.

Chapter Three

Summers in Sombra

While living in Mt. Clemens, Wayne and I didn't get to see Mother or Jim very often—certainly not often enough. One reason was that Mother didn't drive and had no way of getting to us. The separation of our family tore at her heart.

Mother worked at Chrysler, earning the typical female wage for whatever job she was doing. In those days, men made almost double the wages paid to females for the same job. My mother's greatest wish was to somehow reunite her family again. With this in mind, she finally decided to marry Bill Drury, a fellow she'd been dating for a couple of years.

There was, of course, a major stumbling block. Bill was Catholic. Since my mother had been previously married, they couldn't get married in a Catholic church. Mother told Bill that he'd have to give up his religion if he wanted to marry her. Finally he agreed, and they were married in my grandparent's Hurlbut Street home sometime in 1948.

Bill's mother Cora owned a cottage in Sombra, Ontario. I remember all of us going there in the summer of 1948. For Wayne and me, it was as if we were visiting some kind of Fantasy Island. We'd swim, fish, play baseball, listen to ballgames on the radio, and even learn to play pinochle.

Jim and Wayne seemed able to swim right away, but it didn't come easy for me. Although I enjoyed just being in the water, swimming wasn't one of my favorite sports or pastimes.

It did bother me that my little brother Wayne, who was a year and a half younger than me, could swim circles around me. He, of course, would never brag or say anything to make me feel bad.

A half a mile down the road from the cottage was the lake access where we swam. If we dove off the dock, the water was deep and over our heads. If we swam straight out about fifty feet, we'd reach the sand bar where the water was only waist high. Jim and Wayne would dive in, and within seconds, they'd be standing on the sand bar. There was no way I could swim fifty feet, so I'd dive in and get out right away. So much for swimming!

Other summer memories include watching the magnificent fireworks display on the Fourth of July, cutting the grass with a push mower, and playing baseball. Wayne and I played catch whenever we could. We'd even watch the local Sombra baseball team practice and run the bases for them. Jim met a girl named Ethyl that summer, so he was always preoccupied with her. Wayne and I were inseparable.

One afternoon, Wayne and I discovered a nearby gas station run by a guy named Bill. Whenever the Tigers games aired on the radio, we'd head over to the gas station and listen to the game.

We pretty much had free reign that summer. Mother, Bill, Cora, and Bill's cousin Margaret seemed to play pinochle at the cottage day and night.

When the first of September rolled in, we closed up the cottage for the year. Wayne and I returned to Mt. Clemens and the start of another school year. I was now in fifth grade and Wayne in third. As usual, I hated school and always seemed to be floundering. Perhaps if I'd been put in the first grade with Wayne when we'd first enrolled in school, things may have been different. I don't know why I kept getting passed to the next grade in spite of never doing anything in class and receiving failing marks in every subject except spelling.

One day Wayne came home from school, wanting to know what a "scurvy elephant" was. His teacher had called him that. Turns out that she had called him a "disturbing element," not a scurvy elephant.

When Christmas vacation came around that year, Wayne and I received wonderful news. We would not be returning to Mt. Clemens. Instead, Wayne and I were to go live with my Aunt Audrey and Uncle Stuart who lived on the same street as my grandmother. We'd finally be near our brother Jim. For the first time—and the only time, except for one year in high school—all three of us would attend the same school.

During Christmas vacation, Wayne and I took swimming lessons at the local YMCA. The four-day course culminated in a ceremony where all the students who swam the entire length of the pool were presented with certificates of achievement. This was a big event, and our cousins from Canada even came over to watch.

Wayne dove in and swam the entire length of the pool with no problem. It was my turn. I dove in but couldn't make it all the way to the other end of the pool. Halfway through, I had to get out of the pool and dive in again in order to finish the lap. I finally made it to the end, but I wasn't awarded a certificate. I was devastated.

That summer, on our first day at the cottage, I wanted to prove to Wayne that I could swim as well as he could. There was no doubt in my mind that I could now swim the fifty feet to the sand bar.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from From Darkness to Light by DAVID L . DYER Copyright © 2012 by David L. Dyer . Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Contents

Preface....................xix
Introduction....................xxiii
Chapter 1. My First Memories....................3
Chapter 2. Mt. Clemens Musings....................9
Chapter 3. Summers in Sombra....................15
Chapter 4. Memories on Moross....................21
Chapter 5. Baseball and Bravado....................27
Chapter 6. Growing Up and Apart....................33
Chapter 7. The Furthest Point: Vietnam and Faces of Fear....................37
Chapter 8. My friend Lynda....................47
Chapter 9. Forgiveness and Its Rewards....................59
Chapter 10. A New Beginning....................61
Chapter 11. My Brother Helps Marry Me Off....................75
Chapter 12. The Power of Giving....................79
Chapter 13. Relinquishing the Music....................85
Chapter 14. Connection or Chance Encounter....................89
Chapter 15. Forgiveness Sets You Free....................93
Chapter 16. Nostalgic Ride Evokes Special Gift....................97
Chapter 17. Munificent Means Wayne....................101
Chapter 18. The Unbroken Bonds of Brotherhood....................103
Living with Parkinson's....................109
A Revelation Or Something Happened This Past Christmas Eve....................113
Play On Words....................125
A Valentine to my Wife....................129
Happy Birthday Connie....................131
Nineteen Eighty-Six....................133
To the Love of my Life....................139
Spring....................141
The Night before Christmas in South Vietnam, 1970....................143