In 1987 USA Computers sold three vertical market software and hardware combinations: Insurance Agency Management to A.L. Williams agent offices, Personal Agency Management to executive recruiters, and Fixed Based Operator (FBO) to the people who managed the general aviation flying, maintenance and fuel services at airports. My favorite market was the FBO's because I loved aviation and used the market as an excuse to fly and hang out at airports. The software we developed wasn't that great because the customer didn't have a great need to computerize, so sales were low. During this time we sold few of the Personal Agency Management software packages. Another company started selling a flashy alternative, so that market dried up. Without question our money maker was the A.L. Williams software.

Lance and I decided we didn't need an office, so saved that expense. Nor did we need employees. We did hire a commissioned salesman, but that didn't work out well. We were making sales, growing and busy, but we were doing it alone. We were spending a lot of money on sales and installations. I did all the sales and some of the installations. For the important customers Lance would usually fly out and do the installation even if I was already in the area. When this happened with a west coast customer we didn't make much money because of the travel expenses. This was my fault as I'd been short with a few customers during software training, so Lance handled the critical ones. Meaning the big A.L. Williams earners who had a down-line we could sell to.

Art Williams, the founder and President of A.L. Williams liked to make regular changes to the way his field offices did things. At first we saw this as a detriment because we constantly had to change the software to meet his new rules. It didn't take long before we saw this as an opportunity. We solved this problem by requiring our customers to pay a $50 monthly software maintenance fee. This fee gave them access to tech support and free updates to software we had to update anyway. They understood it because they knew their boss caused the changes and $50 a month to do those changes was a steal. It worked great for us because we had to make those changes anyway to sign on new customers, so updating existing customers via modem was simple. We had so many customers that the $50 monthly maintenance fee became a factor in our income. Because of the constant need for software updates and the need for customer technical support Lance and I split our responsibilities. He was by far the better programmer and had done the lion's share of the software itself, so it was clear he needed to do the monthly updates. But he was also much better at customer support. (Lance would later make a fortune with his own customer support business.) I on the other hand was terrible with customer support. I had no patience with stupidity and was quick to express this to our customers. So Lance was better in the shop. My strength was sales, but I also had the pilot's licenses, which made travel easier. This put me on the road.

It was my family who suffered in this deal because I traveled constantly. Mary was patient and tried to understand, but she also made it clear that we had to figure out something else soon. She wanted me home. I wanted to be home too, but I also wanted to fly and travel. I justified my travel because of our business needs, but the truth was that I liked it too. It was a serious conflict with me. I loved my wife and children, I always missed them when I was away, but I equally enjoyed the open sky from my Cessna or the open road from my car. Even now I hate to admit how much I enjoyed the travel, but it's a truth I am sure Mary knows from experience. My wife is seeing red as she reads this. Of that I am sure.

At that time we had a slight problem at home. Our rented house was deep in the woods. We've always liked isolated country living, but there is a downside. Others who prefer an isolated lifestyle can be a bit testy. The problem was over a pair of German Shepherd's who'd made it a weekly ritual to tear up our trash bags and spread trash across our yard. After the second time I started trying to catch the dogs. Somehow they managed to outsmart me so they kept getting away with it. One morning when I was working on a computer in the living room Mary whispered that the dogs were on the deck. The house had an elevated back deck, so we moved the trash cans there in hopes of dissuading the dogs. That they would attack our trash there was too much for me.

I stuck my WWII era Colt .45 in my waist band then loaded my twelve gauge pump shotgun. Moving as quietly as I could I slipped out the front door then around to the side of the house. Both dogs were up on the deck, trash cans were turned over with trash all over the deck. The deck was shoulder level to me on the ground, so when I aimed the shotgun it was an easy shot. The dogs hadn't seen me until I fired. One went over the opposite side of the deck with my shot and the other ran right at me. I was standing at the corner of the house, which had a concrete sidewalk along its length. I shot my second round as the dog cleared the steps, the third, fourth, fifth and sixth shot as he ran right at me. He turned the corner at my feet while I fired my last two shotgun rounds at him. The shotgun was empty so I dropped it and pulled my pistol. I fired all seven rounds in rapid fire.

When I'd stop shooting Mary came out through the back door, walked across the back deck then down the sidewalk. She calmly asked if I'd got them. I hung my head and said, "No. Eight rounds of double 00 buck and seven rounds of .45 ACP and I don't think I touched them." Mary nodded back towards the deck. "You put two rounds across the deck and one into stairs." She pointed at several spots in the concrete sidewalk between the deck and where we stood. "Looks like we'll have to repair the sidewalk too." While pointing out the craters in the sidewalk she noticed a large hole in the side of the central air-conditioning unit. "Looks like you killed that too." She said it all calm and matter-a-factly. It wasn't that she was controlling her anger because she wasn't angry. My wife accepted what I had done because this was the kind of stupid stuff she expected from me. She took my guns back into the house and left me to clean up the mess.

The next morning was Sunday so we all piled into her van to go to church. Mary got my attention and said, "Looks like someone shot a hole in my windshield last night." I got out and looked at a perfect round hole in the windshield in front of the passenger's seat. Neither of us considered that I could have made the hole while shooting at dogs the night before because the van was pointed away from the house. From the angle it wouldn't have been possible to hit the windshield. Yet I couldn't imagine anyone coming down our long driveway and shooting our van. Looking at the size of the hole I figured it to be from a .45. This made me look closer at the hole and I noticed there wasn't any glass on the dashboard, which there should have been if the hole was made from the outside. Curious, I went to the back of the van looking for another hole. I found a matching hole through the rear tail-light. That still didn't make any sense until I looked inside the van. My bullet had entered through the rear tail light, through the three rear seats of the big Dodge Maxi Van, then through the passenger's seat and out through the window.

Mary was kind of partial to her van. She gave me an amused look, but didn't say anything. We had a rule with our kids on punishment. We only punished for disobedience. We did not punish accidents. It didn't matter how big the damage caused by the accident, an accident didn't rate punishment. I think I fell under this rule, so didn't get in trouble. It was a close call though.

That night there was a knock on the door. This was unusual because the house was well off the road and I'd have seen headlights had someone drove up our drive. Recently there had been a string of vicious home invasions around Atlanta, so I was immediately on guard for trouble. I answered the door with my pistol held slightly behind my back. A guy I didn't recognize stood on the porch. He was clearly upset about something, but what got my attention was that he held his right hand slightly behind his back. Exactly as I was doing. Since my family stood behind me, I brought my gun out so he could see it. Not pointed at him, but close enough to cause worry.

Turned out he owned the dogs from the previous day. Seems I did hit one of them after all. Southerners were generally particular about their dogs and this guy was no exception. He was upset that the vet had removed my buckshot from his dog. I told him I was pleased the dog was okay and I was. I also suggested he keep them out of my trash or my aim might improve. He didn't appreciate the fact that I'd shot his dog or my attitude and I didn't like him showing up at my house at night with a gun in hand. It had the potential for a dangerous conclusion. Georgia law being what it was, he'd have been in the wrong if it went to guns. He must have understood this because he kept his gun hidden. When our discussion ended he walked away more upset than when he arrived. I've been known to have that effect on strangers who challenge me. Nothing else came of this, but it left a bit of tension in the air that Mary didn't like. I wasn't too happy about it myself, so we decided to do something we'd been talking about earlier. We decided to take a vacation.

From my dad:
Reader, I must apologize because I got a few events between 1986 and 1988 our of sequence.  In interest of time and story flow we are not going to correct this error here as the events are all correct, just a few in the wrong sequence.  For those who plan to read the completed book this will all be corrected there.  Hopefully you will all read the completed book. :-)  One thing I must add now is a short section regarding the birth of my daughter Janie, which was February 3, 1988.  I don't know how, but I managed to omit this critical part of my life's story.  My only defense is the well established fact that I am an idiot.  Please forgive me Janie.

Mary loved horses.  Because of this she loved our home in Transfer.  She liked the house and property just fine, but she really loved the horses.  Mary has always been hyper-protective of her babies, which includes while they're in her womb.  Yet the horses were so gentle and easy to ride she rode them through much of the time she was pregnant with Janie.  We often went riding together, her horse saddled, mine bareback.  Had she not been pregnant she would have rode bareback too.  We both loved to ride.  One time when she was riding alone her horse was spooked by something, a snake or rabbit, I can't remember now.  Whatever it was, Mary fell off her horse when it bucked in fear.  Neither she nor the baby were hurt, but it scared her enough that she stopped ridding until after Janie was born.

Janie Marie was born February 3rd, 1988, in Warren, Ohio under the watchful eye of Mary's mother Ruth.  As the head OB nurse at Warren General Hospital Ruth took great care of her daughter and grandchildren.  Janie was the most beautiful baby ever.  A sweet baby girl for about fourteen months.