There’s something about childhood that sticks with you, especially when it involves a smushed frog.
I was just a curious, barefoot boy on the grounds of the historic Northampton Plantation, unaware that one small amphibian would mark a turning point in my understanding of life, death, and mischief. The “Smushed Frog Incident,” as my siblings and I would come to call it, was one of many misadventures that defined my early years. It wasn’t just the frog—it was the chaos that followed, the spanking I earned, and the lesson I tucked away quietly in my young mind.
Growing up as the firstborn boy in a family of fourteen, with ten females around me, meant life was always loud, always instructive. My mother ruled the household with grace and grit, while my father, before his passing, instilled in me early lessons on respect, resilience, and protecting those who couldn’t defend themselves. These childhood memories—equal parts humor and hardship—are more than just stories; they are blueprints of my values.
In A Lot of People Slept Here, I recount not just the Smushed Frog, but a life formed through laughter, struggle, and hard-earned wisdom. These tales—often funny, sometimes painful—reflect a journey from poverty to purpose, guided by character, compassion, and common sense.
We all have our “smushed frog” moments. They may seem small at the time, but they echo through the years, shaping who we become. Mine just happened to involve a frog—and a furious mother.