| My Tribute Page |
| On this page I would like to pay tribute to my adopted parents and to Greg Moore, a CART driver killed much too soon. Also to the children of Domestic Violence. |
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| This is the last professional photograph taken of my adopted parents. My father is now deceased, but my mother is still living and will be 90 in November, 2001. They were 46 years old when they decided to take on the responsibility of being parents to me (I was six). We did not have to deal with a generation gap - we had a two generation gap. We saw things much differently, but we still made it through. I am a reunited adoptee in that I know my birth family as my adoption was a direct one from my birth mother to my adopted parents. To those parents who have adopted children, I encourage you to not try and keep them from knowing their biological parents when they get older. There is a void inside an adoptee that wants to know who do I look like, what were my parents like, etc. This is not to say they do not love you nor appreciate that you raised them and cared for them. It is just a need. I thank you Mom and Dad for your commitment to be my parents. |
| GREG MOORE PLAYERS DRIVE #99 Greg was a driver for Players on the Cart circuit. Unfortunately at his last race as a driver for Players he was killed in a horrible accident. This young man had a great future ahead of him as a race car driver and it is a loss to the racing profession to have lost him. My son-in-law (the dark headed man in this photo with Greg) was a friend of Greg's as well as a member of his crew. Out of respect for Greg, his fans, his crew and his family I dedicate a part of this page to him. |
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| I also want to pay tribute to the children who have had to witness domestic violence in their life. Here is a poem written by a little boy who had witnessed such. It is part of a quilt made by victims of Domestic Violence that hangs in the offices of the Indiana Coalition Against Domestic Violence. The words haunted me when I saw them. Hope they haunt you too. |
| I fear him I fear his face I fear his eyes I fear him I fear his voice I fear his words I fear his hands I fear his fist I fear his body running toward me I fear his push I fear him Because I know someday He will come after me. |
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