Peninsula Bridge

There is not a day that goes by where I do not thank the Lord for what I have, where I am in my life, and most importantly, who I am.  I was raised in East Palo Alto (the murder capital of the world in 1992).  The small city where hope to make it out dwindles like a leaf in the wind by the time you reach your adolescence.  Like most ghettos, racism, brutality, and playing sports are the undertow to how people operate.  Education is not at the top of the list.  My father was one of the exceptions.  He was my HERO.  I remember how proud I was of him when I saw him in the newspaper for getting promoted from a dishwasher to the executive chef.  My dad, Earl Virgil, has always been an inspiration in my life.  In East Palo Alto, it is safe to say that he was the peoples' champ.  He coached in the P.A.L., Police Activity league; he was the surrogate father to the drug dealers and or gangsters, and a surrogate husband to the mothers of these kids.  He nurtured them whenever possible.  For the most part, my dad was a single father raising my three brothers.   My best cousin Gregory Thornton was gunned down May 25, 2005 at the age of 19.  May he rest in peace.  My mother was and has been for the most part in and out of our lives.  She has been addicted to crack cocaine since up to 1 year ago.  Odds would say that I would be in Prison (like my brother), deceased like my cousin, selling drugs or something of that nature.  Well, I have never been to prison, I am obviously not dead, and I have never sold drugs.  On the contrary, my life has been quite the opposite for the last ten years.  Why you may ask?  It's because of Les Dewitt, the Peninsula Bridge Program, and Woodside Priory College Preparatory School.