Meeting

Matthew
Helping To Understand the
Essence of Humanity, While
Finding Your Inner Strength
To Survive All

Written By: Christopher J. Barnes, As
Told By Matthew H. Tartaglia

2


To my parents, who continue to provide
the gift of constant motivation.
Love, your son.

3


Forward
The book you are holding in your hands is an
adventure story. And like all great adventure
stories, it includes a battle with evil and the
discovery of true love. It is an uplifting story of
how one man beat the odds. But it is more than
that. It is the story of a man who decided to
change the (his) world. It is an opportunity to
change your own perceptions. It is a story of
incredible heroism. And, it is all true.
Let me tell you about meeting Matthew.
When I first met Matthew, he was confined to a
hospital bed in his home, due to a serious back
injury. The only break he had from this hermit-
like existence was the telephone, which he used
frequently to check in with me. At the time, I was
a young lawyer starting my career. On my end of
the phone line, too much was happening. It was
very difficult to take Matthews calls both
4


because of my time constraints and because, to be
blunt, it was extremely unpleasant to talk with
him. He was consumed by pain, obsessed with
lawsuits, injured, a victim. I was not interested
and I did not understand. Yet, Matthew kept
calling. He forged a connection with me,
although I did not want to be connected. I started
to talk with him when he called, I started to care.
And so, I have been along for much of
Matthews journey. I remember the day that he
got out of that bed and took back his life. For the
record, I thought he was crazy to do it, now I see
he would have been crazy not to. Some of
Matthews adventures were truly terrifying, even
from my safe seat on the sidelines. And most
of the time, I was convinced that Matthews latest
venture was a crazy idea that would never work.
Every time he proved me wrong. It took a while,
but now, I just take him at his word. If Matthew
5


says he is going to do something-no matter how
ridiculous or impossible it may seem-he is going
to do it, you can be absolutely certain of that.
Balancing the extraordinary challenges, there
have been wonderful surprises, my favorite of
which is Matthews wife, Ali. She is an amazing
and a lovely woman and, in my opinion, the
greatest miracle that ever happened to him.
Actually, when you read about this miracle, you
will see that it did not happen to Matthew so
much as Matthew created it. This is how he lives
his life: surviving tragedies and creating miracles;
Not your average person.
Or maybe he is your average person-maybe we
all just have to try a little harder.


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Maybe we can be heroes too.
Cynthia
September 23, 2008
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Prologue
This book is meant to open your eyes and mind to
the experiences and realities of a life that could
have crushed or strengthened the person this book
about, and will leave you forever changed.
This first hand protagonists recall of his life is of
a profoundly moving nature, it moves you
through his life as though your there and can
actually hear, feel and experience the challenges
Matthew faced. Such an experience would leave
many a person becoming a monster, instead of
the caring human being Matthew grew into, he
saw his opportunity to help by ensuring his
potentially crippling challenges were transformed
into victory after victory as he leapt from victim
to victor. There here for all who might wish to
read them.
As you read this amazing accounting, you will be
compelled to finish if just so you can see the
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consequences of the choices that Matthew calls
his life.
This work started out as an interview and molded
itself over the course of ten years into the book
you now hold.
What Matthew remembers, you will never
forget
9


Our Journey
The Fall
I Our Introduction
II So Young, So Old, Too Wise
III An Education of Life
IV What Lies Behind a Punks Eyes
V The Dirty Hands of a Priest
VI Everyone Needs to Visit the Brink of Death
VII A Magical Mystery Tour
VIII The Drugs Take Control
IX Finding Your Inner-Bobo
The Rise
X What Beauty Waits Inside the Mall
XI Chronic Pain Creates Chronic Headaches
XII From Scars to Stars
XIII A Pacifier of Ground Zero
XIV Being Continued

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Our Introduction
That which does not kill us only makes us
stronger.
Friedrich Nietzsche
How can I compile a several stories to serve a
purpose? What is my point? All good questions
when beginning a book that will in fact, serve a
purpose. We met at a local restaurant to discuss,
very loosely, the blueprint for what is in your
hands. It was a bit distracting. That particular
Wednesday was karaoke night so it was also a bit
loud.
Initially, we just spoke about what was happening
in our lives. Some sports. Movies. Nothing big,
yet. And Ill be able to write a whole book on
this? Still, where is my angle? Our waitress kept
coming back to the table and seemed flustered
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that her boss was having the worst night ever.
Ever have one of those?
Before I would go any further I sort of challenged
Matthew with a so what is so great that I can
write about? his response was cryptic and yet a
counter challenging response just the same.
Explaining it is under selling itHow about a
live demonstration instead? He seemed to smile
through his response almost as if though to smirk.
Then he was off
Have your boss come over please, Matthew
told the waitress. Are you serious? she asked?
Yes, ask her to come over please, and thank
you.
Jeez I thought. Whats this all about? I am
trying to figure out an angle for an entire book
and this guy seems like he wants to have fun with
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some restaurant manager hes never even met.
She arrived in a minute.
Wow! As we were talking with our waitress, she
told us about the restaurant, incidentally a nice
place, about her job, and I asked if you would
take a moment with us, I do appreciate you
coming over. Thank you for your individualized
attention and naturally, for employing these
lovely young women, they certainly add to the
ambience. I understand you are responsible for
their training even your optimism is contagious
which definitely helps on a night like tonight!
Matthew paused, smiled, and continued, Wow!
The one thing thatd make this moment perfect! A
hug, yes, yes, a hug! I would like to give you
hug. I would definitely like one, myself, here let
me slide out from under this table. Everyone
needs a hug now and again, ok then!, he said to
her. For just a moment it was silent, like uh oh
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what is going to come of this? Then she laughed
one of those embarrassing laughs that you only
laugh when awkward situations come about, as
though you are not sure of exactly what to do, but
you know you really want to go for whatever it is
you just are not sure of what anyone else might
think. Alas, she hugged. Matthew simply wanted
to wish her a good night and genuinely wanted to
give her a hug. Matthew says that hugs are free
and few use them.
By the end of our dinner, our waitress had
thanked him, another waitress also thanked him
and said if we needed anything to just let them
know, and they invited us to come back.
One hundred percent, she said, he totally made
her feel one hundred percent better with just a
simple little hug, something I would have thought
to be a stupid little thing before tonight.
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Matthew looked at me, sipped his cola, and I
found my angle.
It is almost surreal to have him as an
acquaintance. The more you learn about him, the
more you learn from him. Through some sort of
unique osmosis, he can penetrate your mind, call
it home and never leave. It is not a bad thing -
trust me.
His story is unique. Never have I met anyone who
has enough reason to quit; enough reason to
throw in the towel, a thousand times over. But
simply put this is Meeting Matthew. An
interesting rite of passage in anyones life is
meeting; Reverend Dr. Matthew H. Tartaglia.
Matthew has many hats he wears, including being
certified as a Master Hypnotherapist a Certified
Hypno-Analyst/Counselor who instructs all levels
of hypnosis and theory at the local Community
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College, even as a retired Sergeant of United
States Search and Rescue Task Force. Retired by
his response to Sept 11, 2001 and circumstances
beyond his control. I am not retired just healing
and preparing to return to Search and Rescue
and Fire Fighting as fast as my health and other
circumstances warrant. A true warrior.
A Large man. Huge, actually. Easily dwarfs me.
Nevertheless, after a few moments, he is right
down to your level. As if, the physical no longer
matters.
There is a point in ones life when everything is
normal, everythings in order, and everything is
falling into place. Either good or bad - there is
that side of life. Cross over to the next level as we
go along. Climb to a higher rung on lifes ladder,
if you will. After you meet Matthew and talk to
the gentle-and-wise giant, if only for a few
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minutes, something inside feels different. Your
outlook feels altered. Your perception seems
tweaked. Your views feel changed and your drive
for life feels turbo-charged.
Confused? Why wouldnt you be? You just
havent read enough yet. Keep reading. Its hard
to explain right now. This may even sound like a
superhero, drama, action, with a sequel-ready-
ending mega-movie. In a way, it is. Plainly stated
- while Matthew is as real as they are built, hes
more than human. He is a state of mind. He is a
way of life that is inside everyone yes, even
you.
How can a man endure such strife and poverty,
such unbearable pain, breaking through too many
obstacles to count along the way, and still wake
up each morning ready to face whatever the day
offers? Simply put, again this is - Meeting
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Matthew.
During the days prior to my rite of passage, I
was just like you. Living my life, day-by-day,
encountering people and facing issues all the
while, growing older and hopefully wiser, but
still, simply following the routine of time. Those
obstacles, though, always shook me. Any type of
challenge in life, regardless of size or severity,
would release the butterflies and pose a possible
failure looming on the horizon. Some Id try and
conquer. Some Id try and fail. Some I wouldnt
even try at all. No inspiration. So whats my
point?
All of us seek inspiration - from parents, from
children, from strangers, preachers, the media,
ourselves, sometimes even finding it
subconsciously. We need this inner-drive to move
us - to drive and push us - to the next level and
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then beyond that. Then further.
All of us want motivation. Even the laziest,
slowest, careless, vegetable-of-the-year wants to
turn the television off, wipe away the cookie
crumbs and go make something of our time. We
may not admit it or even realize it - but it is there.
To find that motivation, however, can be the
biggest challenge of all. To find that voice inside
that says, Yes you can! Get up and get out
there!, Go for more!, or Why not? can be
easy for some people and for others, might take
some time heck, a lot of time.
Its discovery, however, can be the most
spontaneous thing in the world - digging it up
when you least expect it - literally. You can find
it falling off a truck at work, harshly severely
injuring your spine. You can find it picking up
and reading a new book. You can find it receiving
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a fax at work; its as simple as that.
November 2001 - Working as a newspaper
editor, a fax came into our office suggesting a
local regular Joe for the Community Spotlight
section. It was a feature article created for people
who have interesting hobbies, incredible war
stories, or just note-worthy aspects to an
otherwise unheard-of life.
The fax, sent by Matthews wife, read something
to the effect of this: As I read your papers
Community Spotlight section; I thought my
husband would be great person for your feature.
He was one of the 1
st
Responders on September
11, 2001 in New York City; he may even be there
over Christmas.
That and despite a severe back injury with
extreme nerve damage, causing him to live
experiencing more pain than anyone I have ever
20


known, still he maintains a positive attitude, and
volunteers much of his time to Search and
Rescue, and doing outreach school assemblies.
He also teaches all walks of life to survive getting
lost in the wild.
Okay, sounds like a simple interview and maybe
an opportunity for some good quotes and a heroic
picture, whatever.
I pulled into his driveway and met the man of
impressive size with a strong handshake and from
what his wife says a lot of optimism and
enthusiasm. He spoke humbly but with
confidence. However, as I said before, it doesnt
take long.
For the next two hours, we spoke about life - his
life, which was filled with things not
recommended for the average person. I was the
average person. Still am. Most likely, you are too.
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Please read on.
One man, talking about pain, more pain than I
could comprehend, quitting school at age 12 to
help support his family of 7 brothers and sisters.
Shooting himself in the hand at 16. Having had
half of his ribs broken in third grade, having
possessed 30-plus jobs, more pain, dealing with
divorce and the loss of the everyday joy of his
sons presence, with the constant accompaniment
of pain continuing the whole time. Even when we
spoke, it was obvious that a battle raged inside
the man seated across from me. Still, he
continued on, shifting in what seemed futile to
find a more comfortable position. A few years
previous, he wanted to end it all. He hated where
he was, who he knew, what he did, how he was
there and had less than zero of anything to
anticipate improving.
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January 03, 1990 - While working as a
construction site insulator, Matthew hurt and
helped himself at the same time by doing what
hes done since adolescence - purposely not
following directions. He was advised to take
someone along, but it was pay by the workload
not the hour load, you get a lot done quickly and
you make good money and enjoy more of your
day. Naturally if you worked slow, constantly
taking breaks or leaving the job site it seems you
work a whole lot of time and made near zero
money, maybe even you ended up paying to work!
Me, I went it alone, determined to learn all about
insulating on my own and doing more than any
other two guys did, by myself of course. I was the
working mans anathema you see, when I come to
work I work otherwise I dont show up for work.
Perhaps it sounds cocky and pompous however I
feel that focusing on the not showing up part is
narrow minded-it is my job after all of course I
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am coming to work. I dont like people who slack
off on the job either.
{The italicized type and quotes throughout this
book are Matthews own words.}
I was using the trucks body hook to secure the
tailgate as a platform. I had been on other trucks
as the third man on the tuck and watched several
crews use the truck and the tailgate this way, and
only this way. So when it broke, it was much to
my surprise. I fell with my body in a V position,
with one boot caught in the tailgates hinge, using
my hands to reach for something to catch onto
and not hit the deck, I used the other boot
frantically attempting to free the other boot
kicking at it furiously. When my body crashed
onto the rocks below with my sacrum* making the
initial contact then my elbow. I bruised my elbow
quite severely, so essentially I landed on these
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two spots each absorbing the full force of the
fall.
*[Sacrum: the large triangular bone situated at
the lower part of the vertebral spine and the
upper and back part of the pelvic cavity, where it
is inserted like a wedge down and between the
two hipbones.]
Doing this, Matthew, herniated three discs,
cracked his sacrum that ultimately healed
unevenly. He severely bruised his elbow, severely
stretching tendons. Only feeling a bruise at that
time, though, he finished the job and went to the
emergency room, as agreed upon with
management, adding insult to injury I also had to
skip the next job of the day already cut short just
got an additional kick in the pants.
I banged up my tailbone and elbow, it seemed
trivial. I was angrier than anything else. Time is
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money and money is time. I felt a little tender -
but do not get me wrong - it did not seem life
threatening (let alone life altering). I went to the
hospital emergency room, after finishing the job I
fell at, at the Emergency Room they said I was
fine. It might be a good idea to take the next day
off, they added. They took No X-rays, No CAT
scans, No MRIs - Nothing. I took the next day off
to be careful still all seemed well.
On January 15
th
, I woke up in complete agony. I
was wet, soaked with my perspiration. My whole
body was trembling. I was in tears. Some people
have speculated that I was so adrenalized that I
did not feel the injury initially, but once a few
days, a weekend, and taking it easy, sleeping all
day Sunday after a nice relaxing Saturday,
making Monday 15
th
of January a unavoidable
day. It remains a debate to this day
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After Matthews chiropractor noticed his
vertebrae were too close together, he advised a2n
immediate visit to the hospital emergency room,
where the diagnosis of his cracked sacrum, and
three herniated discs were discovered.
January 15th the pain began. (Pain that would
prove to be the furthest thing from temporary)
Not a pain he thought would last a few months let
alone years, much less a decade, another decade,
and who really knows how much longer. Today,
its still here. As we go to press, it is 20 years, of
fighting this particular battle, thats right, 20
years. Matthew continues to have something for
everyone, who speaks with him, always
something encouraging and motivating, now that
is a fighter. Although a damn big sized dog,
Matthew says it is not the size of the dog in the
fight, but the size of the fight, in the dog, by all
accounts Matthew has the fight covered from all
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angles, now even bigger, than when we first met,
a man who knows how to build muscle and
strength. Something he likes to do as an
opportunity to network with people and make
money when Hypnotherapy is not paying the bills
or just would like a change of a pace or to earn
some holiday cash. His home gym would make
most professional athletes salivate. Matthew tells
me if you hit all your bodys muscles from every
angle, you will grow. He says it is as simple as
that.
From the day of the fall up to Jan 15th well the
13
th
of Jan, I lifted weights, practiced martial
arts. I played racquetball without anything
hurting outside of something a little stretching
and an aspirin washed down with a cup of coffee
would not fix-anyway. It took days to manifest
itself, maybe I was hurt just enough to keep going
and then BAM! On the morning of that 12
th
day, I
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awoke and was sweating, in total agony; my legs
were shaking and trembling. When I initially fell
from the truck, I thought, You can wimp out
and go home - or just finish your work. At that
moment I wished I had gone home earlier and
had taken more than one day to recuperate but
the race goes to the runner who runs and that's
the attitude I had, still do, only more tenacious
and a wiser all the same.
Pay being, determined, by what was
accomplished - not by the hour - Matthew
persevered. Moreover, he could not just go home,
he did not have an inheritance to live off; he had
to work in order to support his family like most
any of us. When January 15
th
rolled around, he
could not move without extreme effort and
agony. Out of breath from the pain, he began a
physical therapy routine until September 22
nd

when surgery had to be scheduled, after falling
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down the stairs when one of his legs gave out; he
had months before his son would have been in his
arms when he fell. So the fall was a sobering
determinant to having the surgery.
I was told, I had better than 95% chance of
improvement or 5% chance nothing changing at
all will, instead, the reality turned out to be a
100% disaster. I walked in for surgery, yet
returned home in an ambulance to an awaiting
hospital bed, ordered by the surgeon whom had
just performed surgery days ago.
When a disk is herniated, it bulges out from
where it is supposed to be so it can both re-absorb
and fix itself. Otherwise, the bulge would be,
surgically removed. The surgeon was supposed to
pierce the bulge, which was creating the pinch
and causing the weakness and excruciating pain,
take out the herniated fluid, making a more
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rounded disk. Instead, the doctor broke through
the nerve sheath, disregarding what Matthew had
yelled out during the procedure, stabbing directly
into the nerve's root, where it was stuck enough
to require a sharp yank to release its hold.
When a person like Matthew yells, you listen.
Sadly, the doctor did not, Matthew seems to have
an incredible rapport with himself, so in touch
with his body and mind that kind of awareness
would have been a real benefit to the doctor and
Matthews surgery would have benefited
tremendously, had the doctor just listened, to the
insight Matthew had of his body.
Often youre kept awake for brain surgery and
some spinal operations to keep the surgeons alert
to whats happening. Everything was going well
for the first the two discsectomies.
Everyone was very tired by the third and last
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procedure. Naturally, this one turned out to be
straight out of a horror movie. I was told to let
them know, if you feel something different or
odd - I did just that. I yelled, Oh shit!
Somethings different (somethings different I
said, again and again) everything seemed as if
moving in slow motion. The surgeon, the nurses,
everyone except myself, I was an island of pure
torment and the intensity seemed to increase its
intensity regardless of how I thought about it,
how I dealt with it!
Everything seemed so crystalline in each of my
senses -the sound resonating throughout my
body! I saw everything in vivid and color-rich
detail, as could I smell my own musk as I sweat in
pure torment; the sweat was hot on my freezing
clammy skin.
Again, I hollered, My leg is tingling - its
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burning! Something is different! Everything is
fine, right now, so just relax, the nurse cooed, .
My response was just the opposite; You take
that damn thing out of me or I will, I said, I
believe I tried to get to my hands and knees, to do
what I still wonder what my thoughts were
concerning what that next step was to be.
After (the surgeon) turned the overhead X-ray
on, I heard a distinct My God so as promised I
started to get up on my hands and knees and was
preparing to take matters into my own hands,
again I still wonder exactly what I was going to
do next; I was desperate in ways I cannot explain,
yet have experienced. The surgeon took a very
aggressive response and told the anesthesiologist
Knock him out! I remember the sickly sweet
caress of the drugs as they coursed through my
veins, through my heart, coursing through my
head, until I finally had had enough and
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overcame any remaining ability to continue
fighting the drugs. As a moment of ecstasy
enveloped and dragged me into nothingness until,
finally, I collapsed onto the front of my body, the
whole time with the needle stuck into my spine or
and my nerve, maybe even both.
This pain will haunt Matthew for the rest of his
life.
Doesnt it sound dramatic? It is all reality.
Nothing embellished here. This pain will not only
haunt him, it will hurt him, anger him, yet, drive
him, motivate him, influence him and make him
stronger and more willful than ever.
Pain is a powerful thing. At one point for that
pain, he was given a wheelchair. One day he was
banking, getting some food from the grocer and
his things kept falling off onto the ground. No
longer coping with having to push himself
34


around, dropping his things. He picked them up
and He loaded them onto the seat of the
wheelchair, and just started walking, using the
wheelchair differently than intended, pushing
instead of riding, giving himself support to walk.
Hence the idea to use his assistive tools as a life
enhancer and all around aid to go further each
time he walked. Compelling him to push further
and harder. Matthew then got a walker, which he
used to do upper-body dips, and to walk faster
and further.
I felt using the devices my way instead of the
intended way a particular medical device was
intended, somehow I was winning the race.
Matthew had to win. He wasnt born to win, but
it was something he had to do. This avoidable
incident with the tail-gate was an unbearable
mistake - a mistake he still feels after suffering
35


six more herniated disks to date and a common
effect known as RSD or CRPS. (Your central
nervous system becomes engrossed in electrical
activity and makes everyday common tasks as
painful or excruciatingly maddening with an
unrelenting cadence, constantly sending pain
signals to the brain.) Many in this condition
succumb to depression, obesity from eating and
little to zero activity and all too often times
suicide. Yet from this pain came the idea for
everything you - the reader - hold in your hands.
The idea of writing a book came to me when I
was facing a particularly difficult challenge. As
each day went by, I achieved one goal, and then
another, I realized I had a lot to share and even
more to write. Look at it from my vantage point; I
had been bedridden for three years. (This is when
I went into surgery on my volition,( walking on
my own) only then to be taken to the house where
36


my helliot* awaited me. (*Helliot- a
Matthewism**, in this case, for a hospital bed *),
(**Matthewism-a word or phrase that I Matthew
made up because no other word worked for me)
When the third year came around, I was ready to
shoot myself. Really, no fooling, I was so sure I
wanted a bullet for my next dose of medicine that
I had a .44 magnum in my hands, marveling at
the immensity of it, the power it had when
unleashed and for a split moment I truly was
thinking, bang, bang, bang..How many 44s
does it take to kill Matthew? After a, bit of time,
had passed and forgoing that idea, I sold
everything I owned. Well except for the 44! In
addition, my 50 pound dumb bells! Guess I made
the connection where the implement of my
destruction now became the implement of my
safety.
As I walked and hitch-hiked around the country,
37


meeting people, sharing experiences and
adventures, slowly, but eventually, realizing that
people were motivated by me, my story and the
way I handled the events that I had experienced. I
was motivated to take the rest of my life back into
my control. And to ultimately write about it,
taking each moment of anguish or anxiety and
transforming it into another point to written
about made me feel inspired by all I faced,
therefore I boldly set out to write something
worthy of reading and inspiring all at once
To face each day, with pain - excruciating pain -
many times as close to unbearable as one can get,
is something to test anyones strength, especially
once the realization that this is for life, sets in.
Yet it has proven to make at least one man
stronger. In addition, to help him teach others that
even a life with pain is a life worth the struggle.
38


Might sound corny about now? Might even sound
like an after-school special? That is what I
thought.
Even when Matthew and I engaged in a two-hour
interview for my newspaper - for a simple yet
important Community Spotlight interview - he
hurt simply sitting there, it was in his eyes and
the way he would reposition himself, as if though
he was full of life and the wonderment of it all-
yet there was a look of real discomfort. When I
pulled up to the house, I was just like you.
I was oblivious to what he was or why it would
make a good story. It was supposed to be just
another feel-good interview.
In that short time, however, the more I learned,
the question arose as to how all of it would fit in
one article. It ended up being a two-parter - still
only cracking the surface. However, what was he
39


trying to do with the little time we had?
I was a little apprehensive about the interview,
because, if things went well it could very well be
the next shift in my life. No longer was I merely
living motivation, now I was talking about it as
you recorded everything, I said; suddenly I
realized I was teaching it as well.
I did my best to share about myself, about my
family and my struggle to face the challenges in
life. I made sure to mention my Search and
Rescue team. I shared my memories responding
to September 11
th,
while stationed in New York, as
well as my efforts there, with, and without my
Search and Rescue team. (Of course, at that
time I thought the worst was over. Little did I
know of the days and challenges still to come, or
the impact they would have in my life.)
As a tape recorder documented all these stories,
40


my mind could not believe one man could endure
this many obstacles, yet see them in a positive
light. Moreover, to hear the stories of being shot,
brawled with, almost paralyzed, among many
others, you will wonder if it is for real. You are
not alone. I wondered, too.
I remember speaking with a friend who said,
You know, Matthew, I always knew you had
something to say. I did not understand there were
more than the experiences you lived through. It
became clear to me that you had something to
say. Yes about pain and suffering, yet something
to really say, something even big and important
and will to say it. I do not know when I realized
the difference but I wanted to tell you that I know
you have important things to say and share; I
admire your integrity and honesty, even if it does
not always paint the best picture of you at times.
You do say what you are thinking; I feel I can
41


trust what you say, even if absurd.
This friend was one of the attorneys representing
me in the one of the cases I had to endure to
receive what was mine by law yet had to be
debated and argued about incessantly.
Over the years we have become friends, each
sharing in the others accomplishments and
inspired by the others dreams, goals, and
experiences, something you do not generally hear
of when speaking of attorneys, bearing no malice
in the last part of this statement.
Learning all this from that initial interview was
inspiring. It was motivating. It was interesting.
However, the two hours seemed like a tease. I
arrived there interested and left hungry for
more. Talking with Matthew is not merely a
conversation. It is an experience. Whether its five
minutes, two hours or a whole day, something
42


captures you. Today, as a 44 year- old man whose
days and nights have seen, and continue to see
and struggle more than one can imagine.
He has been to the bottom rungs of lifes ladder
before falling lower - and then even lower again.
While everyones life sees a dark side - a side we
prefer would not exist - it was that dark side,
which made Matthew stronger, and eventually
giving him the ultimate reality shock. Why did it
all happen to one man? This gentle, yet wise,
giant believes if it had to happen in order for
something positive to come from it, than he was
the best candidate. Nevertheless, life is too short
for questions such as these.
After his FALL - a time full of fear, violence,
bad luck, worse luck and incredible pain, came
the RISE - filled with a renewed faith, an infinite
drive, a learned laser like focus in his
43


determination, which had been a little flared up to
now, optimism, and a well-understood lessons of
everything that had been faced and defeated.
Matthew now walks the Earth a changed man. He
has a purpose profited from that fall - to see the
positive side of anything negative, to fight
through the worst of times and to survive all - no
matter what.
In order to enjoy the good, at times one has to
endure, even to embrace the bad (a label btw),
with all its fears and uncertainties as well as the
joys and confidences. Each fear you face,
transcends itself into strength and wisdom.
Just as the darkness makes the light so much
brighter and so much more beautiful, so the light
make the darkness more bearable and easier to
face and overcome. This understanding is a
refuge I have utilized at some of my weakest and
44


most trying moments and have been
reinvigorated, for it is truth
Does he still know fear? Yes, fear with evaluation
and realization. In addition, Matthew says it is the
fear that keeps it exciting. He says it keeps things
real, down to earth.
Does he still know pain?
More than you can possibly know without
experiencing it yourself. Why? Probably there is
some truth to the thoughts about my bodys
condition that I just have no time for, in other
words I would rather live in a convinced denial
and will it (my desire) into existence than to get
all mushy about what could or should be.
Additionally, I really do not pay it much mind
when the doctors say, Now, Matthew, go home
and whatever you do just make sure you dont do
45


anything that causes or increases pain.
It seems as though, all the doctors I have seen
seem incapable of recognizing, that for me, going
to the bathroom, moving about the house, even
just sitting down, eating. Even enjoying the
intimacies a husband and his wife enjoy causes as
much pain as it causes pleasure (now that really
does not seem quite fair! If I were to gripe about
anything, I would gripe about that- and who
would not.)
Even when engaging in Search and Rescue
activities or practicing Hypnotherapy each has its
own tremendous potential for increases in pain!
However, for these two the pain only comes after
the deed is done, in other words as I engage in
either of these two ad vocations I am pain free!
Now that is love. Love for self, love for others and
love for what I do.
46


So what, am I not supposed to enjoy or do these
things? If not, then what is the point of living?
Why should I fight? I can hear someone asking
deep down inside as they compare what they have
experienced with what I have written here. My
answer is so simple, yet not so easy, at times. So
endeavor on, become the champion you can be.
Reach for the next level and be proud of yourself,
for all you can do is all you can do, and that is
enough.
Believing or taking stock in anything else,
eventually leads to decay and eventually death,
itself, will come and take the last vestiges of what
used to be your life and soul.
Take a moment. Stop right now; ask yourself, how
would I like to have these circumstances as my
lifes setting?
What would I do, if this were so? Now your
47


understanding is more in line with this book's
words and my intentions. I rarely have any other
choice, other than to fight. This is why I share my
experiences and insights. Had someone with the
courage to share his or her life, in this way, no
ego, no face saving, just real life, life would have
seemed better knowing someone had gone before
me, stopped and made their notes available. I
could read about them, and become empowered
as you are now, face the challenges, the pains
and the frustrations.
I would have understood these were part of living
and my understanding of such things would have
made my walk so much more endurable and
confident. Confident I was headed for success
and not the doomsday the doctors, friends, and
family all insisted would be the order of the day.
So take these words and free yourself be all you
can be.
48


This book is for anyone, coping with tragedy,
especially for people dealing with pain and its
uncertainties. I understand what they feel and
fear; to face each day in pain is one of the
hardest things anyone could endure. In cases like
mine, and for others like me, it is unrelenting.
Lonely just see if anyone can or will keep you
company when you are angry, the piss and
vinegar you are full of is flowing! The man, who
has birds for shade, deals with a torrential rain of
bird shit. Looking up might want to be avoided at
all costs, at least keeping your mouth closed if
you do!
There is no end in this existence. Getting this
book written and published was one of my
dreams. I live and dream every single day, now I
have something to share, and this is one my
favorite contributions to the occupation of life we
49


all must traverse.
So Celebrate! You have so much more available
to you, right now your being content reading
about the struggle I endured, paused and wrote
down so that having a real person to emulate is a
potential reality, as long as you find this book I
mean. Read about the things I did.
Learn the exercises one can employ (knowing
they worked for at least one other person) to
make dealing with most challenges a lot more
palatable
While our journey continues, his knowledge of
life and personal outlook is something the world
needs. Remember - I was just like you.
Nevertheless, I cannot help but be hungry for
more. More challenges to face, more obstacles to
conquer and more life to experience.
50


Why should he teach? Why should we listen?
Why should anyone care? Because we need to. If
youve ever thought of taking your own life or
simply had a bad day, you must merely think of
one man. If anyone has had a reason to quit
meet Matthew; wait-better yet get to know him.
But its always being continued. Hey, I thought it
would just be a simple run-of-the-mill interview.
Now it is your turn to join. Prepare for this rite of
passage
51


So Young - So Old Too Wise
There are times when the answer seems so clear
- right there before me. Then, I have a few bad
weeks and perhaps, I feel like stopping, and just
like quitting. Then I think of two people, my wife
and myself. Two people, who need me to make
what we have, continue being ours and that
encourages me to continue to go further.
As an adult becoming, a Fire Fighter solidified
that which Matthew realized, that most things,
including fires, are avoidable.
Dont complain about where you are, until you
cannot change it. If you are fortunate you look
back on your life and think contently, I am where
I am today because I either agreed to do or not to
do something.
Then on the other hand, not so contently-Perhaps
52


I did not stick to my goals, and took the easy way
out. Perhaps, I really dug in when everyone else
would have quit
Positive or negative, and everywhere in between-
wherever you are, every aspect of your life, you
chose it and you chose it willingly.
When people are borne into this world, however,
a choice is not yet an option. Whats handed to
you must be accepted at any level. The wisest
people understand that life isnt fair. Its one of
the simplest ideas. I wasnt wise. I was blind. Life
wasnt fair but it should have been that way. Life
should be easy. All fall into place. Thats a dream
world. Matthew preached reality.
As a child, it was a different story. He rode a
bullet train to maturity.

53


An Indigo Child Indeed
While most of us beg to be treated as an adult,
Matthew was rushed to that level - unwillingly.
He was grown up - mentally - before reaching
age 10. When most children are learning long
division and state capitals, he was working
practically full-time. He had no choice. It was the
life he was given. Or chose as he says.
At the youngest age, though, the idea of quitting
never surfaced. Interesting, isnt it? He was so
young, yet so determined. Its so easy to quit. Put
all things behind you. Forget the trouble. Skip the
heartache. Sweep it under the rug. Not for this
guy. Remember - this is Matthew.
His mother had her own way of dealing with life.
She was short-tempered, violent, and impatient.
But all that aside she saw something in a young
54


Matthew - something she knew was special.
Despite the reality I had a childhood that no
child should endure; as far back as I can
remember I would talk with My Mother into all
hours of the night and morning. I was inquisitive,
very advanced for my age. If you told me that
3+3=6, I could surmise that 2+2+2=6 also. This
was at the age of four. She truly seemed to want
to cultivate this in me, well for the beginning
years and then it was work work work and gimme
gimme gimme
Maybe that special quality that his mother saw
pushed his maturing far too early. For a young
age, adulthood was approaching far too quickly.
My Mother told me things early most would
say too early. The birds and the bees, and wonder
of things that were to be saved for another time in
life, my adult life. It was akin to taking the
55


mystery away from the experiences I would later
encounter, somehow robbing me more as an adult
than she had as a child. One-time I heard a
schoolmate excitedly sharing about the bringing
their baby brother home Friday. This was an
opportunity to me so I share; I saw this as an
opportunity to share what I knew about knew
about penises and vaginas this was the first
grade! What did I know from experience?
Obviously, nothing, but I had seen pictures and
was present at my youngest (at the time) sisters
birth, at home. In addition, I had an opportunity
to tag along with a neighbor, to nursing school
for about a month. This was not a problem as I
was quite when necessary and a little charmer at
the same time, which seemed to lighten things all
around. Of course, this would not even be
entertained in todays world.
Most kids Matthews age were shown comic
56


books or pop-ups. He was getting the real deal.
This was an adult education class. But not in an
appropriate way. Too young, you think. Possibly,
but his mother felt it appropriate or at least
approved.
My Mother had cut me a several breaks most
other parents would not have. This made me feel
accepted as a budding adult. I also felt a bit
different, even special. Eventually- however, at
times I felt as though it was all a ruse. To make
me feel better about giving up my youth, to be a
part of the adult working world, and why not?
She needed to keep my emotional charge as high
as possible, in order to keep me from entertaining
other lines of thinking. I have imagined, I traded
my youth, for little more than spending money, if
this would have surfaced as truth then, I might
have had a hard go of it, the pain of betrayal
would be have been immense, however, it would
57


have been mitigated completely by my belief I did
what I believed was right. I did so with head held
high and I am still holding it high today,
regardless of any revealed or realized facts. This,
redeeming feature, I gratefully recognize more
and more as life goes on.
Imagine this being something you carry around
for life, imagine feeling unsure whether what you
thought was the right thing to do, as potentially
being a game that was played on you.? This still
was not and is not enough to make Matthew feel
sorry for himself or even sound mad about it,
something I find amazingly strong or incredibly
insane, I vote amazingly strong.
My folks divorced and re-married several, times
before, divorcing each other for good. My Mother
has never stayed married for very long. Likewise
my ideas and fears of womens evil potentials has
58


been making it difficult for me to trust, so I am
aware of being as awesomely blessed and rich
that my partner in life, my wife and best friend,
understands my remaining baggage, and is aware
its being attended to and worked through
diligently. I am aware of how awesome it is to be
tenaciously able to apply my will against the
nasty monster of jealousy and the fear of
infidelity.
I remember us being poor. Now when I say poor,
I mean poor. I did not even know what whole milk
tasted like until age 10. We drank powdered milk
and mixed it half and half or just drank it plain.
Now the folks across the street from us drank
just powdered milk, never cutting it with whole
milk, so recognizing a blessing came to me easily
and readily, as well as early. We used to eat
things other people threw away. My Mother
visited fast food places, mostly KFC, and
59


essentially asked for what they were going to
throw out. Therefore, her idea was to use our
pressed noses against the car windows glass to
make her heartstring-yanking plea. Today, I am
careful to eat all of my food. Yet, I take only what
I am sure I will eat, yet I allow myself the
freedom to stop eating once I am full. This one
snag can be a very tricky path for most to
negotiate successfully, as they feel obligated to
eat everything, lest they go hungry as
punishment. They think will lose all they have
should they waist, this is simply not true,
although the thought of waste is repugnant to me.
The only thing they will most likely lose is their
waistline, a perfect word for the area; since all
the supposedly saved waste ends up there!
If being poor was not enough, Matthews siblings
had problems of their own, which he had to deal
with being the youngest grown-up in the bunch.
60


One of My Mothers boyfriends was human
garbage. He would tie me to the clothesline post
out back saying it was his way of teaching me
how to be a man; (he so proudly pointed out-as
he tightened and looped the rope repeatedly) this
was the escape part of the defending myself.
Knowing how to get out of all tight situations
was what made the difference between life and
death. He said.
I yelled, and cried out as I gave my all attempting
to untie and free myself, I HATE YOU! I HATE
YOU! I KNOW YOUR DOING SOMETHING
WRONG!
I knew he was doing something, and with my
sister, yet for all I knew about, I really did not
understand what might be happening let alone
know exactly what was going on-it felt wrong all
the same. Right then I told myself, if I ever have
61


the chance, I would make sure he was incapable
of doing anything wrong to another person ever
again; I continue to feel that way to this day.
What I really knew about sex amounted to, were
two people doing something special together
when they wanted to have a baby. I did not know
about the joy part - the actual intimacy. I only
understood the procreation aspect, and only so
much of that I suppose too. It took a long time for
me to realize this, and forgive myself. I felt
responsible for my sisters attacks.
Regardless of what I said or did, it happened,
unfortunately, I cannot undo this, or forgive them
away for my sister, and I could only be ready to
comfort her should she ever wish to be so
comforted. I always felt like I let her down.
We have not spoken for a long time. I hope and
dream she is free of this time and experiences as I
62


have become in my own path
Isnt that the typical creed of a true hero? Initially
blaming himself, and to feel inadequate in action.
Did Matthews mother know? He thinks so. How
could she not? The young girl was only 4 years
old. Keep in mind Matthew was just five, for
Matthew though, 5 was almost formidable.
However, is this any way to begin a life? All part
of the learning process, evidently.
I honestly think My Mother was, for lack of a
better word, stupid looking out for her family in
the wrong way. Her plan having a man would
take care of her problems was not the way to do
things.
Essentially, she was willing to sacrifice our well-
being, for her comfort. Of course now she is the
miserable one.
63


How well did you handle your introduction to
death? Perhaps a family pet? A loved one? A
close neighbor? Simply reading the obituary of
someone you knew? Everyone deals with death in
a different way. Some resort to jokes while others
crawl down in a hole - a temporary internal
hibernation from the outside world. When all the
turmoil and far-too-early lessons of rape and
abuse were fresh in mind, one year later came
another tragedy never wished upon a child. But
little did anyone know, this wasnt a normal
child.
When I was 6 years old, we were living in some
of the roughest parts of Miami. Anyone who has
lived in poverty knows it is common not to have
electricity or a telephone. Having a telephone
was for rich folk; well folk a lot better off
financially than we were.
64


Not today, brother, today poor folks have it nice,
and I am being realistic, folks who were like us,
are the wretchedly poor, Yet I still believe to this
day - if we had a telephone, we could have saved
my brothers life.
My brother had been sick on and off, we dealt
with things like that on our own. However, he
was in the hospital the week before but could not
remain there without insurance. The doctors said
there were things we could do at home to help his
condition improve. My Mother and I stayed up all
night building a tent structure out of an old art
easel some plastic sheeting and a de-humidifier.
The doctors told us to set it up to help his lungs.
He seemed to be improving. A few days passed
and he started using his walker again.
I always wonder if I tried to help my brother
because he needed something to help him
65


breathe. However, I did not have the strength to
build an entire set-up so I built a smaller version,
which apparently amounted to wrapping him in
plastic. I left him alone because I did not think
anything was wrong, I was proud of my work and
helping him.
My Mother sent me into his room to get him for
dinner and I found my 20-month-old brother
was purple. I was so scared to tell My Mother
because she would beat us over anything-
anything. No matter what it was, whether we
were at fault or notSticks, belts, fists or feet
whatever was at hand, sufficed.
Actually, I was very afraid to tell her. Perhaps a
lot of my guilt was born when I stood there for
five minutes, wondering what I should do. What if
I had told My Mother something was wrong
sooner, he might be alive today.
66


Matthew eventually ran out yelling, He wont
wake up! His mothers reply was simply, Go
get your brother or before I beat your ass. But he
wasnt waking up, Matthew pleaded still. A look
of terror befell his Mothers face as she ran into
the room.
Matthew, although 6 years old, knew his brother
did not look the way a child should. The silence
was broken as she pushed the door open and she
ran down the street, baby brother over her
shoulder. The three children left behind stood
confused, unsure as to what happened.
Finally, they all went outside.
There were so many people gathered around
something on the ground. I knew it was my
brother. I found out later they pronounced him
dead at the scene. Still they transported him to
the hospital. Then it turned into a murder
67


investigation, because of the circumstances. (My
brother had creases on his face.) Rigor mortis
sets in when you die, and the state the body was is
in shows clues to the trained eye. Yet, the doctor
declared my brothers death due to complications
of infantile pneumonia. Perhaps an investigation
which would have given no one closure, opened
an assortment of problems, and could never be
resolved, should have been the way things were
handled. But they were not.
I am neither rejoice full or guilty in my feelings,
that day is over I am alive and I honor my
brother by doing my best every day.
Six years old and hes introduced (very closely)
to death. More than just an introduction - actually
witnessing death so close to the family.
Matthews barely old enough to cognitively
absorb the dark occurrence, let alone the next
68


action. A bizarre turn of events was held at the
funeral. Surrounded by mourners and children
unaware of whats really happening, theres a
party going on. A party - a light-hearted event at
such a saddened day. Sound normal? Sound
confusing?
The cookies and tea were not the weirdest
thing. For me my father being there but not
allowed to come in was. There are times I can
give relief to myself that My Mother did as she
thought best by only letting him stand in the back
and look through the curtains, as the mad hatter
funeral resumed its insane cadence. The truth
was she betrayed their marriages sanctity and
while he was my brother in blood, he was not my
fathers son. The hole only gets deeper and
stranger. I assure you, there is not an instance
when thinking on that day those of us
knowledgeable of the circumstances, do not
69


remain flabbergasted and still seek closure. I look
forward to the day we all have that closure.
Matthews mother even went to attempting
hypnosis on her son so he would forget
everything of this ordeal, starting back with
getting Him for dinner. His mind and memory
were too strong. To this day, Matthews memory
is similar to an infinite camera that never needs
reloading. Think that might be too much? Its
probably not enough, according to him.
Nevertheless, these awful but detailed memories
shaped his adulthood. They shaped this book.
They shaped these lessons and stories for you.
I clearly remember things very well from those
days. Almost too well, I would prefer, at times to
just forget. Right after all this happened, I got a
reputation in school as a stay away from
person.
70


One day, I got upset and some unknowing kid
said, do not make him mad, he killed his
brother, you know! Unfortunately, in response I
took a large wooden block and brought it down
on his head. He went out, somewhat spastically
jerking around like when you have a seizure or a
neurological attack. Students, teachers they were
all freaking out, they were scared; chaos was the
order for the moment.
I freaked out and was calm all at once. I walked
outside and sat down. I knew they were going to
call My Mother. I knew I was done there and I
was not coming back. Actually, at the time that
was fine with me. I really did not want to go
back. I did not want anyone looking at me. I
started believing what they said about me; about
being dangerous, and eventually that, I had
killed my brother too. My body felt so heavy. I
felt so lostI remember thinking, if I were
71


invisible, the people around me would be better
off. Not a feeling you want to have at any age,
on that I give you my word.
Guilt was very tough on Matthew and he was
quite self-punishing. His mother was definitely
right about his being special. He had a head
start on many emotions, including ethics. Is it
necessarily proper to snap so many photographs
at a funeral - of the deceased, no less? In some
cultures this would be an affront to the deceased,
Matthew seems to feel this way about his
brothers handling. What a shame, that he would
have to learn so much, so early, and to be as
empathetic, as he had been towards his mother.
More than likely, adults wouldnt have done as
well.
She lined us up, and had us bend over his
casket, and kiss his face; he had this soft spot on
72


his cheek that was not hard like the rest of his
face and body, she said this was our way of
showing our respect for him and telling him we
still love him. We were supposed to smile and
keep smiling, it made other people feel better she
had told us. If we wanted to cry, she said it was,
OK, just keep smiling.
She took pictures of everything.
I heard people saying, This is so weird. - I know
I know- Poor dear, and so many other children to
remind her.
I thought I understood death at 6 years old. We
had buried a few animals up until then. There
were deaths in the family. My Mother told me
privately, Matthew, I know you did not do
anything wrong and you were helping your
brother. No matter what anyone says to you.
Remember you did the right thing.
73


This was a definitive point in Matthews outlook
on life and societys outlook on Matthew. His
death created a dark cloud above Matthews head
and affected his behavior, attitude and demeanor.
All of a sudden, people began to ignore him, look
the other way, and whisper behind his back. The
bad kids started to befriend him while the
good kids stayed clear. Matthew started to
cross over to the dark side. It wasnt intentional.
In addition, he didnt necessarily like it.
However, he also loved it.
I felt guilt, which gave way to shame and
eventually rage. The rage was awful. At times I
felt as though I would explode, implode or one
after the other. I started fights. I became
fascinated with fire. I tried putting myself in
harms way.
Obviously, this is certainly no way for a child to
74


be welcomed into the world. Children should be
full of smiles, full of uninhibited fun, surrounded
by support and positive influences to ensure that
their adolescent years will be nothing but
profitable. Matthews adolescent years, though,
were nothing but a one-way ticket to adulthood.
He was the, youngest old man, ever to walk the
planet, young in appearance, seasoned in mind.
If I see someone with a problem and think I
can make a difference, I will; I feel compelled to
step up and help. There are times people do not
have the ability to help themselves. I refuse to be
one of those people who do nothing to help
someone change their life. All the same, they need
to want the change.
Matthews road had a different direction. As a
boy, he learned too much at too early an age -
something he will admit. But maybe it was for the
75


better. He was also introduced to things no child
should see. Evidently, it was inside him the whole
time.
I think a childhood defines who you are until
you learn how to redefine yourself. A childhood
can have many different influences other than the
obvious such as the parents. People you may
not realize that people such as police officers,
firefighters, the grocer, a teacher who cared, a
school nurse, a principal, and yes ministers and
priests too. Its amazingly surprising who you
identify with as a child.
Then theres Matthew. While most people strive
to find influence, he tried to offer it, likely
without even knowing it. But he also found it in
the funniest of places. Lets all take a moment to
remember Troy.
When I find it impossible to forget someones
76


name, they have made an impact on my life. Troy
was a portly, somewhat dorky teen who played a
tuba which seemed to be the biggest instrument
in the world. There was something about Troy
though.
He literally took a beating every day in one
fashion or another. Many a day Troy walked off
the bus crying, yet the next morning he got on the
bus and had something funny to say about the
night before. He even made fun of the razzing
he got the day before. Troy had heart and he did
not wear it on his sleeve.
His tenacity really impacted me in a good way, it
was another way to fight the fight and I respect
him for the way he kept himself stable and fought
each day anew, as though he was visited by the
rejuvenation angels throughout the night!.
Dont we all know a Troy? This kid was hurt.
77


Hurt bad. But it hurt only so much and he got
back on that bus the next day. The kid was
stronger than he probably knew. Wherever he is
today, he most likely has no idea that he impacted
anyone in his life, let alone on that particular bus,
more than likely he would like to forget it, and
most likely has. The most influential people,
though, are those who dont even try to influence.
Are too many children raised by outside sources,
such as televisions, movies and video games?
Television has become so risqu with violence,
language and essentially everything revolving
around sex. With movies, an R rating doesnt
mean much these days. And remember the video
game golden era of Centipede or Asteroids? Now,
kids are playing games where they fight cops,
steal cars, and pick up prostitutes. The kids are
being shown a fake, plastic, Hollywood world.
78


The crazy things you see happening all
throughout our country actually, all over the
world every day, can be attributed very much
indeed to our children learning more and more
from television. They see things and become
numb to the fact that it is wrong to laugh at
someone because they are not part of the ideal
presented.
Corporate Hollywood uses sex to sell everything.
They never show you the truth. It is always
happy, beautiful people, driving fast cars,
wearing nice expensive clothes; they all have
sexy eyes and sexier bodies - that is just not
reality.
They never show you the obese people taking
their blood sugar readings, giving themselves
insulin injections. In an effort to keep you
blinded, the publicized lies are of little substance
79


and not much of anything is the truth as if these
things do not exist. You certainly do not see
people wasting away on the living room coach or
lying in bed, depressed, eating constantly, to
appease the emotional pain. It seems like a
contest to see who can get to be the absolute
fattest. Again, there is no truth revealed, so you
will not see people wearing oxygen masks. Only
to turn off the same oxygen masks to smoke more
cigarettes through the hole in their throats.
Matthew saw a different world - thats for sure.
Kids sometimes need to be shown the real world.
Although, not quite as early, nor as harsh as
Matthew was introduced. Most children who
would experience a childhood such as Matthews
could very well grow up to be serial killers, drug
addicts or lunatics, if theyd even grow up at all.
Thankfully, his head never left the game.
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I was definitely on my way to that end. It is the
things I have enjoyed the most; meeting my wife
and marrying her, even when I was almost sure
that love was for all except me. Joining Search
and Rescue, and responding to September 11
th

Becoming a Master Hypno-Therapist, and
helping others achieve the dreams, goals and
desire eluding those most of their lives. Speaking
to others having a difficult go at things, working
with recovering addicts who have also had legal
issues, and making a difference no one could or
would deny.
My continuing to beat the physical, mental and
emotional odds is paramount to my current every
day positive feedback loop. Watching my son
graduate was a huge boon for me so there are a
lot of things that have kept me sane and others
safe just the same.
81


It hasnt been easy, then again, lifes not fair,
remember? Id bet Troy is a successful guy today
wherever he is. Matthew would be damn proud.


82


An Education of Life
Few people would ever guess that Matthew left
school at age 12. Talk with the guy for five
minutes - thats all it takes. Listen to his
vocabulary. Hear his knowledge; understand his
social abilities. Its obvious theres a huge
difference between learned knowledge and
simply being wise. Hes not an undereducated
man of the world.
When we first met, it wasnt until halfway
through the interview that Matthew told me the
seventh grade was the highest level of school he
had finished. Stunning. I couldnt understand it. I
didnt believe it either. Looking back over
everything I had learned up to that point, it was
confusing.
The truth is Matthews been gifted with two
things evidently more important than a parchment
83


of paper proclaiming graduation - a will to learn
and an education from life more prominent than
anything school could offer. Those two go hand
in hand very well.
Matthew wasnt necessarily a bad student. He
was just in the wrong environment with many
outside factors creeping into his focus. Its
understandable. But the world was and
continues to be his classroom. Civilization has
been his peers. Day-to-day interactions and
obstacles, along with a changing society, has
been his curriculum. Street smarts to the extreme.
The difference, though, was taking those street
smarts, expanding on them, and then being able
to share them with anyone and everyone. That
cannot be taught in the seventh grade or above.
Some of the worlds most dignified entrepreneurs
havent finished school or even attended college.
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Some of the richest people never earned an A.
But then again, theres a lot to be said about
innate wisdom.
Education is extremely important. The right kind
of education. And Matthew agrees. But it just
wasnt in the cards. It wasnt the plan. If theres
one thing - just one - to take away from Meeting
Matthew, its that a plan is subject to change.
More change. Then even more change still. Not
always for the better. But what will you do?
When that plan starts forking to the left or right,
whats next? That kind of decision cant be
taught. You have to find it inside.
For Matthews plan, it wasnt what he missed in
school that was crucial. It was what he
encountered out of school that shaped his
character and wisdom today.
The first part of my school life was the first
85


grade up until hitting my classmate in the head.
The second part of my school life was when I
returned to school to be in the second grade and
was not advanced to the second grade as
promised so I started school with my sister; she
was supposed to be a year behind me, so then I
was effectively two years ahead of my classmates.
When I went to first grade the second time, it was
the beginning of seven years of pure hell.
Should a child this young even know what pure
hell is? This was the fast track to maturity. Too
fast, unfortunately, but that was the plan.
By the time Matthew was in third grade, his
family had moved several times; he attended
four schools in two different states (Florida
and Pennsylvania) in one year. Any child
psychologist, school counselor, or average Joe
86


would conclude this is too much for a child.
Getting to know your environment is tough
enough, let alone meeting people and gaining
acceptance in such a short time frame, just to say
good-bye again.
One of the biggest problems with a childs
adolescence these days is the absence of a
childhood. No time to settle somewhere and meet
others. To fit in. To learn about life, from very
young eyes. At this age, Matthew was wise. He
was mature. But he didnt want any part of a
childhood, at least in that particular world.
So as his childhood was in full force, he has
experienced the death of a brother and unable to
assist a sister sexually abused while Mom closed
her eyes to the dark situations, all just another
bump in the road. Matthew was introduced to
more by age 10 than Ive seen in my entire life.
87


Those experiences and images shaped his
wisdom. He wanted to learn. His brain was ready
and his will was strong.
The fourth school I attended that year was a
Talented And Gifted, (TAG) school called Fitler
Academic in Philadelphia. It took a 22-mile bus
trip just to get there. If you missed the school bus,
you would have to take four city buses to get
there. We missed it occasionally.
I liked that school. We had six classes - music,
Latin, math, biology, reading and history. In a
month and a half there, I really recognized high
academia and always wanted more since. But I
never got it again.
(Note: As of 2008 Matthew returned to academia
and went to college and now holds among others
titles the privilege to called Master Hypno-
Therapist as well as Certified Hypnotherapy
88


Instructor, and Hypno-Counselor, from wanting
to learn to teaching at a college! Now, that is full
circle, maybe the plan did not include this but it
certainly has evolved into a creature of its own.
The guy never ceases to surprise)
Back in elementary school, Matthew, as I said
earlier, was older than most of the other students,
physically and mentally. He was smarter and
more advanced. As a young child his mind was
more than usually inquisitive - searching for
answers, posing questions, asking about those
answers and trying to hypothesize different
situations to offer alternative ideas. I didnt even
know what a hypothesis was until high school.
Not too bad for a young mind.
I was more advanced and the other kids saw
this. Maybe My Mother told me too much. I did as
I pleased. As crazy as life was at home, I carried
89


it over to school and it was very difficult to be
there. It bothered me that I did not fit in. It killed
me. It was very difficult to be unhappy
everywhere - both at home and in school. I had
the same feelings at home. I cannot say there was
a day that my siblings and I were not beaten or
hit because some damn thing did not fit into our
mothers ideal day.
In school, I could not focus, I wanted to learn but
they moved too slowly for me. Some days, school
was not that bad. Nevertheless, I grew up
speaking out and yet, as an abused child, I was
silenced at home. At school, I would make them
pay for it and I accept the same role making
everyone a pissing post. I could only take so
much.
Now hold on just a second. Before you raise an
eyebrow and think this is just another story of an
90


abused child who takes his frustration out on
others, read on. By no means is this your typical
story. Believe me, all this abuse will play out as
you learn more about the man. He literally takes
the abuse as part of that plan. Remember the
plan? The broken plan with forks in the road?
Seventh grade arrived and a growing Matthew
got bigger, older, smarter and angrier about his
surroundings. It didnt take much to upset him or
ignite a fuse waiting to explode. Yes, Matthew
was a smart boy for his age. But also, quite
flustered by a dark home life.
In seventh grade, I stuck a kid in the neck with a
pencil because he had me in a headlock. To me,
that was the answer. He was kicking my butt - no
two ways about it. Sticking him in the neck was
unfortunately the only skill I could think of at that
time. My Mother put me into the fighting arts,
91


starting with Judo and Karate before age seven.
There you learn to do what you needed to, no
apologies no exceptions, no quarterasked or
given.
Everything about my life was unique.
I could not have a toy gun. Yet at age 8, I went to
Sears with Trish, Mothers roommate, who
bought me a .22-calibre rifle. Therefore, I could
not have a toy gun at age 7, but a real gun at age
8 was fine. Why? I really do not know. I have
actually shot guns since age six or seven. Any
fears of guns, (which as I recall was all about the
noise) were short lived.
Now so many years later, Monday Morning
Quarterbacking allows me to see My Mother was
doing her best to show there was a difference
between toys and implements of death.
92


Matthews mother knew who he was from 3 years
old. When he was born, she always said her son
was special but at age 3, she knew he was
different. He would stay up late at night asking
questions - wondering why people were getting
divorced or why someone was moving away. The
cognitive level of questions showed the type of
logic in Matthews head. Imagine a young boy
with cognition. Its truly astounding. His style of
sequencing, even at a few years old, was very
advanced. His mother even had a hard time
keeping up with her sons rapidly growing mind.
The ability to read came painfully - literally. It
was a hard, bruising price to pay, but to this day,
much of what occupies Matthews mind and what
feeds his curiosity is inside books. The gift of
reading and an introduction to books is one of his
redeeming qualities. Nevertheless, it did not come
easy.
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Essentially we were tormented into reading. My
Mother left us with her mother and an aunt. Their
lives were horrible so they took it out on us.
Locked in separate rooms, I was away from my
brothers and sisters. I remember grandmother
would make us say how much we loved her when
we asked to come out. The only way we could get
out of this treatment was to learn our ABCs, and
then to count. Believe it, as soon as I figured 1-2-
3-4-5-6-7-8-9, then another series of zero
through 9, just remember to rotate the first
number up, I got it. Then, I was out of there.
Then she started making us read.
My Mother had bought us these huge Bible books
with pictures and stories about Christ. I read all
the time probably more than anyone in the family
did. I still love to read. I could disappear for days
in my books, and still often do. I loved entering
94


worlds through books, because it would take me
away from where I was. It is definitely a lot of
who I am today - literary wise.
Facts, ideas, theories, knowledge - I love to
learn.
This was no secret. After meeting Matthew, it
was obvious he had a desire to learn and then a
will to share. Its an important part of his life. He
spent his early years dealing with problems no
person - let alone a child - should have to
encounter. But if anyone can do it, it is definitely
Matthew.
His hunger and curiosity was innate. Remember,
he left school at age 12. Hes never been an idiot.
He didnt like school, nor did he want to be there.
But that doesnt mean he didnt want to learn.
Id make fun of myself saying, Im illiterate
95


because I didnt finish school. Well, now I know
that is ridiculous. That is just social
programming. Actually, nothing could be further
from the truth. I am in no way illiterate
The idea of leaving school was prevalent by age
11. While the desire to learn was available,
school was not the place for his attitude. Matthew
simply had to deal with too much. Is any 11-
year-old prepared to work full time? Putting up
fence was tough labor but that was nothing. He
was helping his mother clean and bus tables in
third grade. Hed walk down to Philadelphia to
walk her home. This is a solid kid, a man before
becoming a teen. He had no choice. His mother
needed the help. Of all the children, Matthew was
certainly capable. School was the problem - an
interference - a waste of time.
I was an adult living in a childs body. I wanted
96


out of school. It was a total hindrance. It seemed
I could not really concentrate because there were
always things I had on my mind to do including
having to work.
You can only work and go to school for so long.
There needs to be some time for sleep. So I slept
in school. School was just taking up my sleep
time. It was a shame, too, because I just started
having recognition as a person who had
something going for him. In drama class, my
teacher said I had a gift. She said, your ability
to assume any personality I give you in a script
and play it is a gift. That felt great. Someone
else besides My Mother had seen something in
me. However, I was so shortsighted/penny wise;
and yet so pound-foolish that I did not know I was
screwing myself over. I was constantly tired and
wanted a break.
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Matthew told his guidance counselor, I need to
get out of here. He was losing his mind. He was
so young, too. That mind wasnt fully grown and
life was a whirlwind. The counselor suggested a
psychologist. Matthew didnt want to take the
victim route, though. He opted for the punk
route - as if hes too bad for the school. Making
the school know if it cant offer Matthew needs
then he didnt need them. But what did he need?
Good question - but the school didnt have it, or
so he thought. How can a boy know what he
needs? How can a school tell him, and expect
hell understand it? Too many factors here.
Something had to give.

I should have gone to a psychologist but what
would that have done? Probably just, scatter all
my brothers and sisters into separate foster
homes. Who was going to take four children or
98


six, let alone eight children? I felt certain
responsibilities. Leaving school was like giving
up. But I did it because I was so tired. To me, it
was futile to learn the stupid stuff. When you
have to work all the time - I mean all the time -
while getting the crap beaten out of you, while
your mother goes from relationship to
relationship, you are forced to grow up quickly.
What happened in 1778, I dont care. State
capitals, long division, I did not care. What I
cared about was if I had enough money for
Mother to cover the electric bill or if we would be
in the dark all month. This is what I thought and
cared about. Is my stomach and those of my
siblings going to growl all night or will we eat?
That is what I cared about so I had to get out.
Back then, it may have seemed like giving up.
But all these stories serve a purpose. Theyre not
99


to elicit sympathy. He doesnt tell them to make
you cry. Im not sharing them to make you sad.
These experiences shaped his character but
should have forced him to quit. Quit his job, quit
life, quit trying, quit having a concern for waking
up in the morning.
Matthew given more than enough reasons simply
to quit. If anyone had a right to give up, it was
him. But the more that dropped on those forks in
the road only served to push him further. Thats
why he tells these stories. Thats why Im sharing
them.




100


What Lies Behind a Punks Eyes
The punk way out was a one-way trip to a
tough reality. The punk way out means to find
punks and run with them. Learn the punk talk,
punk attitude - and thats what Matthew did. The
opportunity for him to get out of school fell into
his lap. Being an ever-growing opportunist, he
grabbed it.
John was a good friend of Matthews who had a
rough life as well. His mother and sister were
professional bad-check writers. Real slick.
Slippery cats who had attracted many warrants.
Everything they owned was stolen. John was
the perfect punk.
John had a knife - a larger sized, folding knife.
Someone saw it and told the bus driver who
promptly turned the bus around, before you knew
101


apples from oranges we were pulling into the
school drive. We were right back at the school.
The guidance counselor and principal came out
immediately they wanted John to get off the bus
and they wanted him searched.
I said, Give me the knife. I will hold it for you.
Get off the bus, go ahead and be searched and
then we are out of here. I swore no one saw it,
but the boy sitting next to me did. He snitched us
out the next morning.
John and I were called into the office and the
principal said, I know one of the two of you
boys had a knife. I was oblivious, acting very
cool. For a little bit I was a little scared. Then
suddenly I realized they could not do a damn
thing to me except throw me out of school. I was
waiting for this opportunity! Yea, I had the
knife, I said. It was mine. John never had it.
102


The only reason it was ever in his hands was
because I handed it to him and he handed it right
back. The principal said, Youll be suspended
for three days.
Matthew then became a bargainer and the
ultimate smart ass, er salesman. A very
convincing one at that, too. The punishment was
three days and he replied, Lets make it five.
The principal warned Youre about to go from
being a smart aleck to being a punk and maybe
worse and really getting into trouble.
You were just in here last week getting tested for
a gifted program. Matthew replied, All that was
a mistake. I am not interested in that stuff; it isnt
for me anywayJust make it an even 10 days.
Then he left escorted away from school by
counselors, the Police even made an appearance.
His goal of freedom served on a platter. Well,
103


almost.
A letter soon arrived in the mail stating that
Matthew was suspended for 30 days, he was
failing classes, and was scheduled for a court
hearing. This wasnt part of that plan. But those
forks have no limits and can come when least
expected. Thats the beauty of life, or the bitch of
adolescence.
Thirty days? His mother needed help. And a 12-
year-old Matthew was ready to assist his
(abusive) mother. Interesting family values,
arent they? But a court hearing wasnt part of the
deal. Evidently, it wasnt as easy to get into
trouble, demand a longer suspension, and simply
walk out and into the adult world a few years
early. Matthew wanted nothing to do with jail or
juvenile hall. It wouldnt allow him to work for
his family and that was the goal behind all this.
104


Its not a vendetta against society or just a losing
attitude. The family needed help and he needed to
step up.
I was scared. At first, I thought everything had
backfired in my face. I really was not sure what
to do. In court, I talked with the judge in such a
way that maybe he would think I was a bad kid
and should not be in school. I had the punk
attitude cranking. I was thinking like a punk. I
was ready to kick anyones ass; I was a bad ass
now. The judge smiled at me in that way people
smile when they hear someone talk a certain way
- as if to say, Damn. If only.
Apparently, the judge hadn't just dropped off the
turnip truck either. This man had been around the
block. He wasnt afraid to show a punk whose
boss. Hes seen every smart-ass, wise-cracking,
holier-than-thou teen stand before his bench with
105


his pompous swagger and nose up in the air. He
knew the tricks.
But there was something that lived behind
Matthews eyes. Behind that arrogance. Whatever
it was, it couldnt hide forever. Maybe Matthew
didnt want to reveal any compassion or heart,
but it was time. A punk can only stand so tall
before he comes back to reality. Unless hes
really not a punk at all. Remember, Matthews
mother always knew he was special. Thankfully,
the judge saw the same.
Matthews goal that day was to be removed from
school. With a respectable purpose. The judge
asked him to leave the room for a moment to get
some water. Upon his return, something shined
on Matthews mothers face. The judge looked
just the same.
I came back, the judge was smiling and My
106


Mother was drying her eyes. Evidently, when I
left the room for the water, My Mother told the
judge what was going on in our lives. Did she
really help me? I truly do not know. Perhaps, had
I been taken out of My Mothers house and put in
a place here I had less opportunity to do things in
an intuitional manner, where would I be today? I
have an idea; however, it is not pretty, as they
say. However, I cannot second-guess it. Maybe
she helped more than I will ever realize, then
again. The judge said, First of all, you
almost got yourself in a lot of trouble. You told
me you were involved in some things I really do
not believe you were involved with at all. I think
you have a problem that needs addressing. You
are obviously no longer a youth, even though you
are only 12. I am going to help you. I will let you
leave school without any attachments.
Matthew was given whats called a Hardship
107


Exemption. He was, for the most part, exempt
from the rules of being a child and walked out - a
free man. That judge saw something. A wannabe
punk stood in the courtroom but he was a stupid
punk. Thinking his honor wouldnt catch on or
even care to look deeper. For Matthew the judge
taught a good lesson that day. That judge refused
to give up on someone. What a concept.
And as simple as that, at age 12, Matthew went
to work. Long, tiring, grueling work.
When Matthew stopped school and the judge
offered freedom, he went to work 90 hours a
week. Think about that and understand that - 12
years old, AND 90 hours a week. What were you
doing at age 12? Chances are you werent
working 90 hours a week. Most folks will never
know a 90-hour workweek at any age. Its not
necessarily something he chose but, as mentioned
108


earlier, he was given this life. You can either take
it and run or turn your back and quit.
Monday through Thursday, he worked 11 a.m.
until 11 p.m. Friday and Saturday, he worked
11 a.m. until 2 a.m. Sunday, he worked 11 a.m.
until 6 p.m. Call it dedication. Call it insanity.
Matthew just called it life.
I worked, worked and worked. Then I would
work some more. I have worked as a prep-cook at
a clam bar, stack corrugated boxes, quality-
control assistant at a bottling factories; install
fences, build gates and backstops for baseball
diamonds, stocked fence at warehouses; worked
the grill at McDonalds; worked at a box
factory; assistant snake catcher; landscaper
apprentice; door-to-door salesman; worked
repossessing cars and trucks. It was very hard for
me to keep a job after 16.
109


The point is, there are words said to you that
seem to tick. For a long time. The person who
said them may not have a clue about that, or even
care, but youll always remember. Theyre so
powerful and so heartfelt that you cant help but
remember them. Think back to a time where
someone said something to you and the world
stopped.
Maybe it was your child, a neighbor, a parent, a
pastor, a total stranger or words from the beyond.
Wherever their origin, words mean everything.
That judge said something to Matthew that hasnt
been erased - let alone faded - to this day. I doubt
it ever will.
That judge doesnt realize how effective
his words were. There are people in this world
who are going to give you a hard time. They will
say you are a bad person. Dont give them any
110


help. Dont let them bring you down. Never say
you are a bad person because from what I see
here, you are anything other than bad. The
words struck hard, deeply and I felt a little guilty.
I had been through an awful lot. I felt bad, but I
also felt good. Those words did not mean much to
me for years. They mean more and more now.
He may be modest today. Matthew knows who he
is but is afraid to seem too confident. But he now
sees what the judge recognized. Thats the
biggest point of this book and these words.
Seeing something in someone. Or seeing
something in certain situations. Thats a gift.
Since that time, Matthew has never admitted to
being a bad person. He wouldnt dare.


111


The Dirty Hands of a Priest
Fear can be a driving force behind any would-be
molester. The heartless beast knows its victim has
a fear of many things - of being hurt, of being
mishandled, and usually most of all, of alerting
authorities. Theres a fear of the experience
possibly reoccurring. As long as that evil goes
away, and youre still alive, everythings fine.
You and I both know everything is not fine.
Its an uneasy feeling to talk to someone who has
been molested. Abused. Touched in the wrong
way. Not quite sure how to respond. How to look
at them. How to ask questions. What questions
not to ask.
Matthew, however, doesnt mind sharing. Every
part of his life has meaning. There are lessons
around every curve - for him and for those who
listen. This is no different. This is and was a
112


tough story to handle.
It must have been a tough story for him to tell.
Even tougher for me to hear. How do I look at
him? What questions do I ask? Please read on.
Have you ever been touched in a way that
brought on uncomfortable feelings? Have you
ever felt violated? Was there ever a time your
body was intruded upon and an escape was
nowhere in sight?
Its OK to remember those feelings. Certainly, it
wont come easy, but this is life. The worst part?
Knowing that feeling might not ever go away.
Until the age of 12, Matthew believed life was a
bitch and being molested by his churchs priest
didnt help. The dirty old man of the cloth even
invaded the Tartaglia household, and said the
Dinner Blessing, at their table while the family
prepared to break bread.
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I almost went upstairs, got my rifle, and shot
him in the head. To this day, I do not know what
stopped me. I had tried telling My Mother but she
did not believe me. Eventually, I stopped trying to
tell her and told her in a way she could ignore no
longer, she went to the church and in return, they
ostracized us - even though I had irrefutable
proof. I knew certain physical characteristics that
never would have been possible to know had I not
seen him with his clothes off. It certainly wouldnt
be something a priest would tell you about even
in the strictest of confidence.
Matthew had been altar boy for three years,
serving masses on Saturdays and Sundays, and
every single weekday in the summer vacation for
the 6:00 and 7:00 am morning Masses. The priest
seemed like any other priest, but had more in his
pants than in his heart. And Matthew was young.
Wise, yes, but nave as well. A young prey is a
114


dumb prey to a sexual predator.
He offered to take me to the store; purchased
some things for me. I did not really understand
why he wanted to but he bought me three pairs of
shorts and a tank top. It seemed a little weird but
it was a priest - I did not feel a need to question
it. There was a time when I remember thinking
about being 12 years old and not understanding
why anyone in the rectory didnt see something
wrong, especially with a priest always wanting
male companions in his room - not just the
church rooms.
Looking back on molestation is one of the hardest
things in the world to do. The emotions are
overwhelming. You can try to push the memories
to the side or even erase them even slightly; this
pain imprinted itself thoroughly onto his soul, as
well as his mind and emotions. It would serve to
115


haunt him to either self-destruct or grow even
stronger this was a tough part of the interview.
What do I ask? What do I say? It became clear
that I didnt need to say a thing. Just listen.
Its a time in his life that was selfishly robbed by
a man whos supposed to be close to God. But the
story needs to be told. Many people out there
have been touched in the wrong ways. Years
later, its was actually healthy to have a purging
of emotions. Tough as it may be, that`s what
Matthew did as he reflected on this troubling
time.
We were sitting on his bed; we both had our
pants around our knees. He had us interlock
hands. When he started touching me, it got to the
point that I ejaculated. I remember an
overwhelming feeling course throughout over my
body - it felt like I had to urinate. However, it felt
116


incredible, yet that it felt incredible, also was also
warped. For all I knew about how babies were
made, I had no clue what was going on with this.
I knew it was wrong or it would not have been so
freaking secret like. Then we were in the
bathroom washing our penises off in the sink. He
was talking to me what just happened. He said,
Matthew, many people would not understand
that somebody 12 years old would be able to
appreciate such pleasures of life. That was the
only thing he ever said to me about keeping
quiet.
The older he gets, the more Matthew remembers
about that day with The Not-So Reverend Priest.
Back then, things couldnt have been hazier. It
was a weird, confusing, scary and interesting
time. Frightening in what was actually occurring
but curious as to how wrong it was.
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Matthew was young and this time, his
immaturity got the best of his emotions. Thats
the exact type of vulnerability a predator
hunts for looking for the wounded child to
show them attention and to cultivate a seeming
safe place to talk and vent a place that
whatever was said was sacrosanct, then one
day there is a reckoning of where you are no
longer innocently sharing or dumping your
emotional baggage, to a place where you are
not being hit, or ridiculed, just things will be
different now, the relationship changed, but
after the "right" initiation is made it all seems
as though it was your choice even solicitation
to have this new and different attention paid to
you.
It all happened after Matthew and the priest
returned from shopping. While sorting through
clothes, Father started to disrobe down to his
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underwear. This was almost normal as they
would change in the church itself from their home
clothes to mass service cassock, but they always
had on like shorts, shirts, which were usually
undershirts.
This is when Matthew began thinking something
wasnt quite right. But he was young. In addition,
this was a religious leader. That can be
overpowering - even for a wise 12-year-old.
When changing for mass as an altar boy, theyd
have to disrobe, but never quite to that unsettling
level.
He asked if I wanted to try on the new clothes.
Then, he made a point that shorts were not made
to be worn with underwear. When I started
following his suggestions, it hit me that this was a
bit strange yet I still was not completely sure
because he was still fully dressed, and here I am
with shorts and a t-shirt on.
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It had seemed relatively normal up until that
point. Goes to show you what I knew, and how
much you can defend someone for doing
something wrong only because you want it to be
right. Then, while talking to the altar boys, he
reaches behind and puts his hand up my shorts
pant leg in such a way that they could not see it.
He was all too clever, in retrospect. Then I am
thinking, His hand is on my butt - what do I
do? He was trying to tickle me and it did tickle.
I was afraid I would cry out or make a sound. He
flickered my anus with his finger tip, it was
strangely an exhilarating feeling, Yet I was
getting excited, then I even got an erection, which
I was confused about, even though I was not sure
about the anus part, I was all into the idea about
myself and a girl doing something like this but a
priest?! I was mortified. Here are two of my
fellow altar boy friends from church. They never
saw not least as far as I knew and dread. I never
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said anything, they said nothing, they did not
seem to be uncomfortable or anything and then
they just left. They left and the priest did not say
a word to me. It was a total whirlwind.
This was a lot. Its a lot to take in, second-hand. I
was never molested. Never touched in a wrong
way or put in such a situation. I didnt know how
to react. How do I respond? This type of reaction
becomes a norm when talking to such an
experienced guy. A lot of questions start piling
up. What would I have done? Would I have
screamed? Yelled? Run away? Done nothing?
Matthew was strong at the time, but could he
have been stronger? Looking back, this was
unfortunately part of the plan. Certainly a dark
and disturbing piece of the puzzle but its the life
he was given.
Eventually, Matthew told his sister. She had a
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hard time believing it at first, as Matthew thought
anyone would, since a priest isnt supposed to
touch anyone - let alone children from the church
- in that manner. Someone had to believe him
though. So he made a tricky phone call.
I called him, and with my sister listening on
another line, asked him some questions. I tricked
him in a way that my sister heard and understood
I was not telling falsehoods. Finally, I knew it
was wrong - thanks to that phone call and my
sisters willingness in exposing herself to a
potentially painful reality. Then I told another
priest, pretty much in a manner that made it
impossible to ignore - he believed me. He was
transferred to a distant parish within a week.
This experience, and the afterthoughts, created a
mean person. They would start to turn Matthew
into a very angry man. Guilt. Embarrassment.
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Humiliation. Betrayal. You name it. He didnt
want anyone touching him in the wrong way
ever. In retrospect, Matthew believes his mother
couldnt have been persuaded more to believe the
truth. But such wasnt the case.
Id start fighting with a lot of kids. I started to
hate every single person in my life. I would break
things, set fires - I literally lost my mind when I
realized what happened.
As I have come to study the evil that exists in
people like this, it is clear these people are
predators. They know how it all works peoples
minds, especially children. However, it is the
parents minds also. These predators know how
to do things in such a manner that makes people
reason what they know is wrong, not possible or
just too crazy to consider.
They escape reality as the child bears the burden
123


of their ignorance.
They use a certain methodology. While they get
inside your mind they are violating your body, -
an easy task when your prey is age twelve or
younger.
Somehow, some part of me must have enjoyed
the attention even though it was wrong. It is a lot
like being beaten. I hated My Mother for beating
me, but at least she was paying some attention to
me.
Abuse is a twisted thing. Often it is the one being
abused who feels guilty because he or she feels
responsible for letting it happen or not stopping it
all together. Unfortunately the abused forgets
how powerless they first felt, before all the noise
in their minds goes supersonic loud.
The feelings of helplessness and hopelessness
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they have in the beginning gets lost in their
desperate attempt to organize things so that they
may have some semblance of control even if it
makes them a party to the abuse, this is the
beginning of the end of their resistance.
The mind, especially at a young age, thinks this
rational person would not be doing this to me if I
did not do something wrong or disserve it. These
predators know your innocence is being
slaughtered and youll have a hard time telling a
soul - if anyone - ever.
Matthew considers himself lucky for being able
to get out. See the big picture and move on but
just not forgetting what happened. He knows
people who have been abused - much worse than
him - some even to this day. They wont get help.
They have that fear. The fear overruns your
whole body and almost anesthetizes your will
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against healing. A memory of a traumatic
experience can be paralyzing.
Just because I was able to get out, does not
mean it did not take what felt like the last bit of
innocence I had and completely crush it.
The people, who want to abuse or molest
children, look for people like me or my sister-
people already abused, trained to accept more.
The predators look for telltale signs and target
their prey. It is that simple. They keep looking for
the next one and then the next one
It does not stop until someone says something. I
cannot tell you how much it hurts to just think
about it let alone actually tell someone what
happened. Yet now I am free. No matter how hard
it hurts to think about something, either you quit
or you just keep going. Me, I like my life and I am
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not quitting any time soon.
There are many people abused today. They need
to realize this one statement. Pay attention
please. If you fell down a well, although no one
knew you, an alarm would sound and people
would still come to rescue you - even at the
potential peril of their own lives. If strangers
can feel this way about you there is no reason
you cannot do the same.
Everyone was a beautiful baby once. Life just
kicks your ass sometimes. Before it is too late,
you need to go back in time and get that baby
back. That is probably why I have been in the
rescue services as long as I have. I pound and
grind myself mercilessly to save all the mes
possible. With every person I help, I help myself.

127


Everyone Needs to Visit the Brink of Death
Sick and tired of being sick and tired. This books
first chapter discussed Matthews great fall in
which his back succumbed a devastating blow
causing severe chronic pain to this day. But
theres only so much pain a human can tolerate.
Even this human. One day, he almost took the
seemingly-easy way out.
Confined to a hospital bed for three years thanks
to that stubborn truck hook that couldnt be used
as a step, Matthews mechanical skills were
severely limited. The walks were closing in fast
and his isolated space was becoming a hostage
situation, rather than a healing station.
Without being a claustrophobic, it still felt like a
box. Not just the room but also his life in general.
His boundaries seemed limited. Everything
coming at him was negatively. Everything was a
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struggle. Every day was an obstacle. The thought
of taking that great escape was on the horizon.
But they werent ready for him yet.
I was going to do it. I took a massive amount of
medication, put my .44 magnum against the back
of my head, and pulled the hammer back. This
was a tricked-out rig, meaning it took a pound
and a half of pressure to squeeze the trigger and
fire; this is designed for spot on shots. I was at
my end. Exhausted is more like it. I was so tired
of lying in that damned bed. Tired of arguing with
seemingly everyone. Tired of court, Workers
Comp, photographers, etc.
I was either going to quit or live my way - no
matter what.
I started to see things very differently. Its really
weird that it happened that way.
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And that was it. Thats all it took. Just that quick
visit to the brink of death. It was that split second
of a loaded gun pressed against Matthews skull,
ready for firing, which pushed him into the next
stage of his life. Sounds funny, doesnt it? How
can someone be so cowardly to take a gun and
end it all? Could this strong man really have
weakened that much? Its possible. But the
trigger didnt come down. And everything
changed.
Within that day, Matthew dismantled the hospital
bed and took it out to the trash. He took all his
possessions, marked everything for sale, sold
everything he owned and split. That was it. This
was no bluff. The gun was ready. Matthew
thought he was ready. But his time was just not
up yet.
You could have spit on the pistols trigger and it
130


would have fired. Something happened that was
extraordinary. Something happened inside me,
though. I guess it is true. When you are about to
die, your life really does flash before your eyes,
well it did for me, I suppose I was dead serious in
my intentions. Then all of a sudden, I went from
holding the pistol to the back of my head, to it
lying in my lap.
I found myself laughing and crying about my life
and my thought was, Screw this - I am not
quitting. My Mother was downstairs the whole
time. I remember feeling that for all she had
done, the very least I could do was have her hear
the gun go off.
Matthew wasnt trying to make a statement. He
simply had enough. In his preparation for the
escape, he even left a note. Fuck you. You
couldve tried harder. It was directed towards his
131


mother, his doctors and the insurance company,
essentially everyone.
Its like the Aerosmith song Amazing. It is
amaaaaaazing, in the blink of an eye, you finally
see the light. Did I ever. I closed my eyes for a
moment and thought I was going to flinch. I
started to laugh, and cry, and laugh more - I was
maniacal.
I realized it was probably just the beginning and
somehow I needed everything that had just
happened to take me into the rest of my life.
If I try very hard, I could reach that goal. That
goal was to make everything I went through
worth something. To make it all count for
something.
Would he have pulled the trigger? No. Not in a
million years. It wouldve just taken a slight
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breeze or a jerk of his hand. But it wasnt the
plan. In a twisted way, getting to that brink of
death was in the plan and it meant a lot. It meant
a new beginning.
If everyones life flashed the way Matthews did,
there would be a lot of changed perspectives on
this planet. Better attitudes. Sweeter aromas.
More patience. Longer hugs. It was the biggest
wake-up call of his life. And self-inflicted. He
needed to push himself to that edge and just peek,
for a moment. What waited on the other side was
unattractive so he came back unscathed.
After selling his items, Matthew left a few
changes of clothes, a pistol, and two 50-pound
dumbbells. Selling his belongings in short his
past was closure. It was a yard sale of years of
accumulation. He learned a hell of a lot but it was
time for the next level. Matthew knew that he
133


didnt want to be where he was at that moment.
And as close as he got to quitting, he simply
wasnt a quitter. So he took what little he had
left, opened the door, and the road awaited.










134


Matthews Magical Mystery Tour
The hospital bed was a thing of the past. It
symbolized entrapment and confinement. It was
an island of misery in which Matthew lay in the
center - no rescue ship in sight. And then it was in
the trash. What courage. What confidence.
It was time to find something. Find what? Well,
Matthew wouldnt know until he found it. He
didnt know where to look, where to begin, or
where hed be when he found it - let alone how
long it would take. But the road was open and it
was a first step toward something. This story is an
obscure one. A bit trippy. A little wild. As
alwaysread on
The pain certainly wasnt conquering. This would
prove to be an excruciating journey. But with
pain comes pleasure. Pain was beginning to be
both a friend and an enemy for Matthew. An
135


enemy that made it is unbearable to walk at times
or to simply move from a sitting to standing
position and so many simple things you and I
take for granted.
A friend in the sense that it was always there, No
ifs, ands or buts - the pain has never left his side.
In the loneliest of times, it was his only
companion. Also remember, Matthew had almost
killed himself. He tried, sort of. He believes he
tried, at the time. Part of him was going to do it.
But there was the stronger part that would never
have squeezed the trigger.
Something inside him gave the reminder that
theres a hell of a lot out there. Lifes not always
a bowl of cherries, but the bad must accompany
the good. Nonetheless, there is life out there.
That is who put down the gun.
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And thats who walked out the door with few
belongings ready to seek the next level. It was an
undetermined destination. But it didnt matter.
This would prove to be a long journey where
Matthew made some interesting decisions. For a
smart guy, youll wonder why he chose some
paths. But youve heard the saying, Everything
happens for a reason.
Matthew happens for a reason too.
When I left, all I had been my clothes, a pistol,
some ammunition and my medication - all stuffed
in a cargo bag. I stashed my two dumbbells in a
wall back at my Mothers house and off I went.
After walking to my attorneys office and
crashing on her floor, then taking an ambulance
to the ER who sent me all doped up in a cab after
the police handed me back my weapons permit
and informed me that I could pick up my pistol,
137


which had been unloaded, from security. When I
ended up in at the mission, they told me I could
not stay as my back was injured and their
insurance would not allow me to stay there. I
would be able to eat something, take a shower
and leave. I would have to hurry as the mission
closed its doors in the daytime. So I took a
shower, I needed that more than anything else,
even food, food I could get food from the
Salvation Army: who had sent me there in the cab
and paid the fair, it was incumbent upon them to
relocate me back to my point of origin because of
my injury. I believe the nonstop pressure I
applied on the phone compelled them into
realizing no other choice than to pay for a bus
ticket existed, and that they did. This worked well,
as I was no further behind the eight ball as a
result.
Unfortunately, George, whom I had befriended,
138


could not buy a ticket. So I sold a gift someone
had given me, it was a necklace. Thankfully, it
was real gold and heavy to boot. I paid for his
ticket and we went to Norristown, after eating
what we considered a feast at the Salvation Army.
Thus began our short time together facing the
challenges of the street living. George was short
in stature, yet tall in respect and honor. George,
a mid aged gentleman, from Puerto Rico, seemed
all right by me.
I appreciated the time we were able to walked
and talked passing the time. In some ways, two
people made getting a ride more difficult and in
other instances easier, and often times much
smarter, there are some real bad folks out there.
Damn, it seemed as though we walked from one
metropolitan to another. Finding a place to sleep
and eat where we could. When on the road, often
139


it is easier to have two people traveling together
because one can sleep while the other keeps an
eye and an ear out for trouble. Many times, we
found a house for sale and would just climb in
and shelter for the night. Other times we were not
as fortunate and would stay at a drug den where
you could crash for a few hours although not
much longer. However, they were real hellholes.
Occupied by whom, many would refer to as scum
of the earth.
It is these little pockets of hell, you hear about on
the news, or see in a movie; still, you try to forget
they exist all the same. We did not do drugs - we
just hung out there. It was a place where the rain
did not fall on you and the police did not hassle
you.
George turned out also to have been divorced; he
had two daughters but could not pay the child
140


support. We understood the commonality we
shared as this is why I was on the street. A nasty
and seemingly jealous jerk of a Moderator
assigned an earning capacity on me, despite the
illegality of his actions.
In my situation I went from $869.96 to $234.34,
this is when you realize either you eat or have
shelter, albeit just barely enough for shelter. I
have always enjoyed a change of scenery, and not
being fond of starving I chose a full belly. I would
have to adapt to finding and accepting shelter
where I could it. As for George, His job fired him,
and he had no choice, but to sell off his
belongings in order to pay child support for as
long he could then he had nothing at least from
his perspective. I hope he is spending as much
time with his daughters as they would like and all
is well as can be.
141


Matthews back pain was bad - extremely bad.
Bad enough to consider quitting. A continued will
to beat the odds enticed him to continue reading
and start practicing all sorts of survival skills.
Matthew knew he needed to survive. Nobody was
there to save him or help him so what is left?
Matthew says you help yourself. Save yourself.
He had to learn and how did he learn? He loves to
read so he read. And he read more.
Regardless of his educational boundaries, the
ability to read proved to be a lifesaver in
Matthews life. Like that, old adage about
teaching a man to fish feeds him for life,
compared to giving him a fish to feed him for one
night. Teach a man the alphabet and he can spell
any word. Teach a man to read and the world is at
his fingertips. Still, the road wasnt clear. Many
forks. Many decisions.
142


His mind became a cloudy blueprint. He knew
there needed to be an executed plan; he could
almost touch it.
Once I called My Mother and asked if I could
stop by for a cup of coffee. I stayed at her house
for a week. Then I was gone and never returned
again.
Matthew went to the gym he worked the in
exchange for a membership; he got the keys, and
walked across the street. He knew which key
would open the place since he went there so
many times. The key copied and back in the
office before anyone suspected a thing. He was a
slick cat at times. But he needed to survive. He
needed a place to stay. Quitting - yet again - was
nowhere near being an option.
When the gym closed at 11 p.m., hed go back
inside and sleep. By 5 a.m., he was awake,
143


exercised, cleaned up and gone before anyone
noticed. This occurred for several weeks before
someone got wise and changed the locks.
Matthew had planned a trip with his good friends
Jaime and Mike. This trip would either make or
break their bond. What could possibly go wrong
on a trip to find their inner-selves? No one was
sure, if this was part of the plan, or if there even
was a plan anymore.
Have you ever felt like just creating a journey in
your life? Certainly not in the position Matthew
and his boys were, but a journey without
pretense. Without destination? Just relying on
fate and faith that youll arrive somewhere safely.
Too often, we rely on a target. Someplace we
aspire to arrive. When bumps in the road shake
the trip and take you off course, the plan is
diverted elsewhere. Would you quit, pack up and
144


go home?
Ill never forget what happened before we got
on that bus. It was an omen, an indicator
everything was going to be wrong and we never
should have gone in the first place.
One of the bags we prepared - a very important
bag that was not impossible to live without but it
was very crucial - was left in Jaimes friends
car. Therefore, we were down a bag already from
the minute we boarded in Philadelphia. We got
on the bus around 9:30 p.m. We were all very
excited.
The three journeymen were heading to Florida to
Matthews grandmothers house as a home base.
An opportunity to share how to live outdoors for
a while. Matthew had plans to teach his friends
about survival - building fires, camping, creating
shelters, catching and/or killing food, self-
145


sufficiency. Matthew has been surviving
something or another his entire life and now
began this next phase of his life - something hed
begin to make a habit - sharing his knowledge
with those who need it. Grandmas area was very
private and, best of all, far away from their
Northeast homes. A rest stop in Virginia was
their crystal ball. It emitted vibes of the trip, thus
far.
We were walking through Virginia and, for
some reason, I could just tell from the start that
these guys would either have a really good time
or someone was going to get in trouble.
Interesting premonition, as youll see.
There was an armored car, stacked with cash,
doors wide open, unloading money. It was hard
to believe they only had one person was doing it
all - loading, driving, unloading - all of it. I
146


wondered how close we could get before freaking
out the driver/guard. I ended up talking to the
driver from the sidewalk. We could have easily
taken the cash. He was alone. I kept inching
closer and closer before we were just talking face
to face. Evidently, we could not have been giving
off too many bad vibes. Then we were at a funnel
cake shop where we made everyone laugh so
much, they bought us breakfast. I was on top of
the world. I was away from the workers
compensation investigators, away from my ex,
away from My Mother.
In Virginia, the three missed the bus, so they had
to wait for the next - which carried a new friend.
A Dead-Head girl, who seemed cool at the
time, and was on her way to a Grateful Dead
concert, after catching up with her later, she
generously offered the boys some extra concert
tickets.
147


I looked at Mike and Jaime to which they said,
Sure! Why not? We were here for an adventure
and this was an adventure.
After arriving in Jacksonville, Florida, the drugs
were plentiful. Matthew bought paper and liquid
acid. Liquid acid is pure and the paper-hit acids
were four-ways - meaning if you take one hit,
your taking four. Matthews normal dose would
have been four hits so taking four was 16. You
follow?
I kept feeling like nothing was happening to me.
I got mad because of this and slipped into a bad
mood that we spent the money and there was no
effect.
Matthews normally clear state of mind was
becoming clouded due to the ineffective drugs.
If something didnt go his way, tempers flared.
The drugs seemed useless. Retribution was
148


necessary.
On the bus, he marched right up to the dealer and
demanded more hits - effective hits; hits worth
the money. Thats what he got.
All of a sudden, a palm-full of the liquid acid
and 16 hits of paper acid started doing their
thing - BANG! The spider web had begun
weaving around the back of his head and
pulling him into a full blown out of this world
drug induced euphoria and everything that
he'd thought of, lived and or experienced over
the most recent and distant days and
memories were the things that got Alice in
Wonderland.
I started getting vivid these ideas and one after
another. Things started rushing around in my
head. I was getting very excited because instead
of being negative about being hurt and in pain
149


wallowing in my own pity - I started to let my
hair down. I felt more confident about things. I
asked the guys if they would take two extra days
since we had to keep jumping on different buses
to allow me a level of comfort that any
investigator or person would have lost their trail.
Life was completely unfolding. I started to feel
somewhat elevated above others - even
invincible. I could see a chalkboard at the front
of that bus.
More on that chalkboard in a second. First, the
invincible feeling. Later, youll learn about
Matthews infinite sense of invincibility. A more
positive sense. Here, on the bus, its a scary style.
He feels above everyone. Unable to be harmed,
touched or taken down. Its the type of
confidence he needs but the wrong manner.
Now back to that chalkboard. The drugs were
150


working well. Too well. A lack of sleep entered
the mix and served up a dangerous and
hallucinating concoction.
I literally saw a chalkboard at the front of the
bus. I walked up to it and started writing down all
the ideas I had stringing them together and
checking other things off. One was that Each
man is his own worst enemy. Another was Each
man spends nine months trying to fight his way
out of the womb and the rest of his life fighting to
get back in. I was checking things off on this
imaginary chalkboard. It was wild. Nobody
would even make eye contact with me.
Can you blame them? Matthew had just told his
two buds that after the trip, he hadnt planned on
returning to Pennsylvania with them. Theyd still
have a good time while on this journey, but in the
end, itd be best to split ways. He was convinced
151


he needed to continue. Matthew thought he knew
the answers to the questions that plagued him.
Through the days, the pain - both his friend and
enemy - was always around.
The pain was very intense. Therefore, in
addition to the LSD, I had also taken a lot of
prescription pain medication; all when taken
without LSD were useful in combating the pain I
usually dealt with. At the time I was taking eight
Methadone a day; eight Oxycontins a day; eight
Valium a day; Placidyl once a day and Dilaudid
for breakthrough pain. It was all I could do to
keep numbing the pain. I had felt the best I did in
years. I forgot completely that I was divorced,
homeless, and spent three years in a hospital
bed.

152


The Drugs Take Control
Its amazing how clear and photographic
Matthews memory remains. Of the fuzzy times,
of the roughest and darkest of memories, from a
few years old to yesterday - its crystal clear. On
this trip, there were fuzzy times on top of cloudy
times. The drugs were consumed like they were
going out of style. But his stories still remain
true. Not many people could remember things so
vividly, through such substance-abusing times.
The three got to one bus station from their
destination - about 15 minutes away - where
Matthews chalkboard turned into a stronger
vision. He decided to get off the bus. He felt a
test had entered his mind.
We had been on this journey for a while and, all
of a sudden, I felt this understanding. So I
thought. It was certainly a most absurd thought,
153


yet when a vision of this magnitude is delivered;
you have to take what you believe is the step, lest
you lose it and all is for not.
And do that he did. Matthew walked to the front
of the bus, told the driver to stop, and, in the
middle of the road, left behind his belongings and
friends. He started to walk away.
Something said, If you do this, the sign you
have been waiting to appear, is about to come to
fruition, well that was my interpretation, and
good enough for me It was so incredible I felt
not do it, would be to condemn myself for the rest
of my life.
Was this guy crazy? Who does something like
this? In a way, yes, he was crazy. But from his
perspective, it wasnt that long before that he was
condemned to a hospital bed knocking on deaths
door. On a trip such as this - one with an
154


unknown arrival place or time - when a vision
appears, you dont resist. And when a man of
Matthews size demands the bus to stop, it stops.
I went to the front of the bus and said, Stop the
bus - I need to get off right now. The driver said
it was not company policy let people off in the
middle of the street. After a convincing reply,
something in the order of, Either stop the bus or
it is going to be your mother fucking ass, the
driver promptly followed the previous order, after
slamming the bus to a halt and opening the door
without another word.
I was so fried I could not tell. All of a sudden,
Jaime grabbed what he could carry and got off
the bus behind me. Mike stayed on - I knew he
would actually.
We had to leave him. Maybe it was a test to see
who was really going with me. Who was really
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part of this journey? If they were going to make it
to the next stage, they were going to get off with
me.
And things get weirder. Its not called a magical
mystery tour for nothing. Across the street stood
a library, a bank, and a police station. It wasnt
the most ideal place to depart a bus and begin
walking down the middle of a road. Jaime
questioned what was happening but Matthew
wasnt really sure. At this point, he was following
a vision. Find the same answer himself. Same
question Jaime asked. Matthew told him not to
look at the traffic. Matthew said to just step off
the curb and walk to the center of the highway,
where he was. Jaime sat down on a bus bench and
Matthew simply walked across the highway
without as much as a turn of the head. Ultimately
his undoing. No longer a private party. Drivers
who had just missed hitting Matthew called the
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Police.
Are the drugs working now? More than ever. He
was getting his moneys worth. Maybe Matthew
was bargaining for too much now - but that
wasnt an option. On this journey, there wasnt
such a thing as too much or turning back.
Something told me that I was going to see
something from the middle of the road. I was
definitely peaking* from all those hits but I
believed something was going to happen
(*peaking=the ultimate high of the LSD
experience-when the effects can be experienced
the most). I went to the middle of the highway to
see my clue it was so wild and insane, yet it
seemed the place to be at the moment. Perhaps
there are times more convenient other than 08:00
in the morning, rush-hour traffic no less. It was
like being in the middle of the boulevard, in
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Philadelphia, with no median for a reprieve or
separation from traffic it was all you. I did not
even look to see if cars were coming. A truck
slammed its brakes. People either thought I was
out of my mind or definitely on something,
perhaps both.
I turned around, looked at the bus station and all
of a sudden, saw my chariot. I started walking
across the street again, cars again slamming on
their brakes. Jaime was petrified but he knew I
saw my next sign. There was a white Ford
Mustang with black tinted windows - the same
sort of vehicle undercover folks would drive if
they worked for the law enforcement or
government.
I was convinced this was a Special Operations
pickup.
Matthew had no time to question a move on this
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trip. The journey had no plan or preparedness, so,
in his current state of mind, he had to take the
chance when given. He was convinced this
Mustang was the answer to take him forward to
the next level. He really believed this.
This journey was to prove something. He surely
wasnt in his right mode of cognition, but
Matthew was looking for signs. Convinced this
Mustang was the sign, the story only gets more
interesting. He walked up to the car and opened
the door.
I got in, sat down, and said, Let's roll. My first
clue something was wrong would be the absolute
look of horror on this persons face. I could not
believe it. Seeing that car from across the street, I
was completely convinced this was the next step.
He looked at me with such complete fear and
confusion. So, not one to waste time on the
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unnecessary, I got out. The second I got out of the
car, he hits the gas peels out and was gone. I had
made a mistake. Then I saw the next answer - or
so I thought.
Once the white chariot had made a quick exit,
Matthew set eyes on a poor black man standing in
all green corduroy clothing, which he mistook for
a civilianized version of a Spec-Ops uniform.
Matthew walked up to the man, introduced
himself, put his hand forward and said,
Tartaglia, here.
The man reacted very calm - not nervous at all.
Thus, Matthew was convinced this was the guy. It
turned out the man was just released from seven
years in prison and the last thing on his agenda
was to shake hands with a psycho from a bus.
Matthews response?
I said to him, If you do not shake my hand and
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blow this operation for me, I will personally see
you die. So he shook my hand. I do not think he
thought of doing anything else, and then he was
gone.
What happened next wasnt in the plan of this
journey.
Almost immediately, a police officer arrived.
Matthew thought, if hes supposed to be free,
why would they take him away in a police car?
Of course, that's the answer, how obvious. By
the way, whether hes hopped up on something
illegal or not, Matthew always has the answer.
Thats not to say hes an arrogant know-it-all. Its
to say he usually knows it all. He truly knows a
lot.
Now, I had the answer; Because the whole thing
was so public a debacle that the only obvious
thing to do, so no one could see what was
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happening, was to take the crazy man away in a
squad car. I understood completely. So I sat down
on the street, rocked back and forth for a few,
talked to myself for a few seconds, stood back up
and walked toward the cop. He said something
that led me to believe he just wanted to get
everything done so I lay on the ground but he
wanted me standing. I did not want to make the
scene any bigger than it was already. I started
walking toward him again - thats when he took
out his pepper foam.
The cop wanted Matthew on the curb and wanted
him to relax. No one knew what or who they
were dealing with - including Matthew. Under his
substance-induced influence, Matthew thought
these guys - the Mustang, the green corduroy
man, and the police were all there to take him to
the next stage - to wherever they were all going.
Matthew began to realize this was another
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misunderstood experience - another
misinterpreted chariot. Maybe this journey had
no meaning at all. Regardless, the biggest
obstacle was on the horizon.
Right now as we are speaking about all this I
cannot believe I was actually this stupid.
All other available police units start to show up
and I remember thinking things were about to get
a little wild. The next few seconds were crucial.
The cop gave a Code 4, which tells the other
officers that everything was cool. He said to me,
Look, man. It seems like you had a bad time of
things lately. I think its time for you to get the
hell out of here and go home.
He started walking away and the cop gave what
Matthew saw as, a menacing look. Everything
was fine until that seeming questionable
expression. It was no longer a Code 4.
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He looked at me as I said. I will fucking kill
you. He went from empty hands to holding a .9
mm in a second or two. He must have taken me at
my word.
His look was so sneering and so challenging that
I felt like he was jealous of me because I was
getting to go to that next level. I was walking
away and he was not. I thought he was jealous -
hence his questionable expression.
The cop - gun in hand - started screaming orders,
while Matthew reaches for his bag to challenge
the muscle of the cops weapon. With cops
surrounding, they start fighting with Matthew as
he screams and thrashes around. Hes tackled
prompting his gun to fire.
Im screaming and trying to see the officer who
leered at with me that face - the cop that ruined
everything. Ruined the plan. Or so I thought. I did
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not know what was happening any longer. They
were obviously looking for a bullet hole in me,
yet I am thinking they are looking for a tracking
chip, Yes the acid had begun to run down the
side of my brain!
Next thing that happens, I am being loaded into
an ambulance, getting shots that eventually knock
me out. Then I kept coming to and going out
each revolution offering crazier and crazier
dreams. I woke up with a hole in my shoulder,
shackled to a bed with cops, nurse and doctors
everywhere. I screamed but it seemed that no one
could hear me. I watched as time had actually
seemed to pass in exponential measures and dust
collect everywhere - that is how sped up my
perceptions became. A nurse said they needed to
find out what was wrong with me.
Matthew still didnt realize they werent all and
165


down under his arm and into his chest. The
pathologist hired for his defense after reading the
reports and examining him, concluded that either
the officer was behind him and fired down and
from a fairly raised position, as high as nine feet,
or from a standing position in front of Matthew
while he would have his hands above his head
and been laying flat and face down. It is difficult
to know for absolute sure, as the records have
been sealed except by a judges order. There are
newspaper articles indicating from police
sources that there was an investigation about this
previously reported shooting of a Philadelphia
man who was shot in the chest while engaged in a
shoot-out with police and since there were many
questionable shootings that year already the
Attorney General was looking into the matter
more closely.
It was the shot heard round Matthews world.
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While jailed awaiting a hearing, he was treated
really well by some new comrades who felt some
of his pain, although few people in this world can
truly experience that agony.
I was very sick. Very light-headed. Some of the
guys in the cell threw things to the hallway
yelling, Youre letting this guy die! Take him to a
hospital! Then it was determined I was to be
moved. I was chained me from my hands to my
waist to my feet. The guard said to me, It looks
like God is trying to get your attention. Sounds
like youve been through a lot, young man.
People there started looking at me differently. It
was all over the news. Most of the inmates
already called me Bullet. Yet, from the other
side, this considered a major crime. They did not
give me private council or a public defender at
my first appearance. It was really a mess. They
knew that I was not guilty of attempting murder
167


on any LEO, let alone 1
st
degree attempted
murder of a LEO. It seemed obvious it was
known they dropped up from the get go and now
they were attempting damage control As they
observed no one showed up to claim me or stand
up for me.
Yet they would not admit it, of course. Then
suddenly, I went from 25-years-to-life sentence to
15 years probation, quite a change, indeed. I had
intended to haul ass the second I got out of there.
I went to my grandmothers house, from the jail
that first night; my clothes, shoes and wallet were
all gone. This pissed me off more. It was and
remains clear the fight with city hall is a long and
arduous one indeed
Matthew was told in jail to not take this to trial
because hed never be released. It was an old
town with old rules. Even older citizens and they
168


would not understand Matthews journey to find
himself. The judge believed theyd meet again
anyway.
He said, Im giving you 15 years probation so
when you come back before me, I can put you
away for the rest of your life. He expected me
back. He tried to demonize me from the very
beginning. That judge was positive Id be back
within a month. Guess what - I was not going
back. And hes still waiting. They sealed my
records, so when requesting my file out of 29
witnesses that made a statement about what had
happened, they sent me nine. Of the nine, all were
police officers. I challenge you and anyone to
read the police reports and proves otherwise. I
was a scapegoat. The cop messed up, over-
reacted and was probably scared out of his skin.
He screwed up and I paid for it. Dont
misunderstand me - I was wrong in letting myself
169


get carried away in my experience and all, but
enough already.
A lot of factors played into Matthews magical
mystery tour. The bus driver stopped when told,
Matthew searched for his answers as he
succumbed to an abundance of acid, freaked out a
Mustang driver and, and dealt with a very
frightened law enforcement officer.
Matthews 15-year probation began in 1995
thanks to a heavy gavel. It ended on November
11, 2010. Do you think, for a single second, that a
man on probation for an initial first-degree
attempted-murder charge on a Law Enforcement
Officer can turn the hardest 180 degrees on his
life? If anyone can, meet Matthew.
In my life, youd be thinking that going through
all these things, from the very beginning, Id have
more than enough reason to quit. The truth is I
170


have life no matter how hard anyone tries to take
it away. I keep getting up day after day after day
and offer whatever I can to whomever possible. It
can cost about $25,000 to open the sealed case
and prove it was all a cover-up, but that is OK.
For now, I do not need that. I do not need a
lawyer or a jury to tell me I am alive, and that I
live each day to its fullest potential. I walked out
of that jail into something much greater than I
could have ever imagined. Nobody, but me, was
ordering what my life would become and thats
how I live every day.
That judge is still waiting.




171


Finding Your Inner-Bobo
This is the story. This is the story. The story to
change all stories. Its about nothing into
something. *Influencing no bodies into some
bodies. Making an empty man feel full of hope.
Its inside every single person but to grab a hold
of it is entirely up to you. And it all started with a
dare.
Somewhere out there, among the fantasies and
heroes, among the champions and role model
achievers, walks a spirit with high socks, plain
blue sneakers and a homemade cape. Inside every
single one of us.
Every person in this world needs to share his or
her Bobo with others. The power is truly
magical. Neither Matthew, nor Jaime or Mike
knew what to expect when they trekked to Florida
on a series of buses. Mike got cold feet. Jaime
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wasnt sure what unfolded. Matthew was sent to
jail.
Not exactly the ideal vacation. But if there was a
time to start turning a life around, to start
believing that each day is completely precious, a
jail cell is a perfect place for lots of thinking and
reflecting. And getting a little creative.
Among his cellmates, who offered nothing but
support, Matthew found someone in that Florida
cell who would prove to be the foundation of the
rest of his life. And maybe help yours, too.
I needed to find out who I was. I had some time
to do it, too. So I started writing to my son. I
wrote the letters twice - one sent to him, one to a
trusted friend. I wrote things that I thought he
should know. I wanted to insure my son never
said to me what I said to my father; which was,
where are all of the birthday cards and
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Christmas cards? that you saved for me? Where
are the letters, where you told me the things you
could not at the time, but would let me read, or
read them to me at your first opportunity. I am
pleased to report my son, I sat down, a few years
back, and he read all those letters. He was a little
pale at the conclusion of his reading. I had
handed them to him and explained that I sent his
copy to him many years before. He was angry,
and I asked why, he replied that his mother never
gave them to him. Once he relaxed a little, I
pushed further. I asked him how he felt about the
letters, from their existence to their content, he
was silent for a few moments, and he seemed as if
he would burst, I offered him an out. I said that if
I was he I might feel like laughing and crying at
the same time, and that was all good. He
suddenly let out a huge gale of air as he said that
he was not sure what to say other than, thanks
Dad. It was a moment I hoped we would
174


experience. I am pleased to have this memory. We
shared, together. I know he is a better and freer
person as a result, as am I.
My love of reading has always been very strong,
when I noticed the choice of reading material
basically consisted of western novels that had
many pages missing and were as tattered as any
soul could ever be, I asked my grandmother for
help. She took the money I gave her and she went
from one bookstore to another, purchasing 50-
used books and donated them to the law library.
The Law Library Corrections Officer
(abbreviated CO) spoke with her about me, and
my diligent efforts in the law library, as well as
my helping others with their reading and writing
in an effort to teach them to communicate with
their families. When library day came around the
CO came to our Pod first. (A pod is a very large
room that has two floors or tiers with steps going
175


from top to bottom and there are 4 cells on each
floor; tables in the center bolted to the ground
and a shower at the end no privacy at all.
Everyone saw everything all the time.) He called
me to the door and let me know he had the books
my grandmother had purchased. I asked each
man from my cell to pick a title for me and
choose one that they wanted then the remaining
books were passed out to everyone else. Along
with my cellmates, I prayed for a blessing for her
efforts. She wrote on labels and affixed them to
inside jacket of each book, This book courtesy of
Matthew H. Tartaglia. At the time I was
embarrassed I did not ask her to do this, now,
many years later I understand what it was about,
she was simply stating the obvious. Like a mother
who writes her childs name on the label of their
clothes before going off to camp. Sharing the
books with the other inmates so they could
perceive a different perspective of the world other
176


than what those cold walls, and tattered western
novels had to offer made me feel like a big
brother. We needed something to occupy our
minds or we would kill each other. The place
sucked, it was hell, and one could truly go insane
without some reprieve, the books offered just that.
I thought as long as we were going to be there,
making things as positive as possible was the best
road to take. This in a place where one day
another inmate asked me if I knew why there was
harmony between the black inmates and me. I
answered truthfully; I was not sure of why. He
then asked another black inmate to shake hands
with several people black and white alike. Each
time he shook hands with a white man the white
man wiped his hand off on his pants as though the
person he just shook hands with had some kind of
contagion that had to be removed as soon as
possible. I stood there in dismay and wondered is
this a social construct of incarnation or is most of
177


society this way? The question and the answer
rattles me to this day. Who among us bleeds any
other color than red when cut? Who among us
has a silent belly after not eating for days on
end? Who among us does not want to know
happiness? On the other hand, who does not want
to express themselves, to be safe in their homes,
to be recognized for their efforts or to be loved? I
hope I never descend to such a self-important air
that I would wipe my hands off just because of
color or background. Now sweaty hands aside
this is wrong. Look around you and see if this is
happening where you are? If it isWhat are you
are you going to do to make a difference?
This journey to the South is proving to be
more beneficial than Matthew even knows.
They were heading to sunny Florida to learn
some survival skills. And survive they did. Not
through the original intentions, perhaps. But it
178


sure as hell turned out to be the lesson of a
lifetime.
While in jail, Matthew was already a different
person. He understood what had happened. He
was wounded when a police officers supposedly
fired at him in self defense, aiming directly at
him, as the officers' report reflects, but Matthew
was hit in the back of his shoulder, under and
through his armpit it traveled in his body,
stopping in his chest. As angry as that made
him, and still does today, at times, it happened.
Such is life. Such is the plan.
He can quit, bow down to the obstacles or
continue climbing the ladder of life to the next
level. The real next level. Evidently, it was inside
his soul the whole time. Some things just take
time to hike the socks up and blossom. Times
were changing, and so was Matthew.
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Rather than staying upset and vengeful,
something else came to me. If you do good things
for others, it is hard for them to do bad things to
you. If you give someone five minutes of attention
making them important, it is amazing how taking
the focus off of yourself and turning it on
someone else in a positive light, can transform
them like a butterfly. There started to be no
boundaries, skin color and ethnicity no longer
mattered. Now getting through the day together
was all that mattered. If it can happen in jail it
can happen anywhere.
And it brings us to the story. The story. Are you
ready? One fateful night, Matthew found another
personality. A welcomed visitor to inmates and
eventually, the rest of the encounters throughout
his life. Matthew worked out in old white boxer
briefs with gray socks pulled high up to his knees.
A bright yellow sweat stained undershirt. Dollar-
180


store sneakers rounded off this unique attire -
blue Bobos to be exact. The All-American
sneaker for an all-American hero in training.
Matthew didnt necessarily care about his
appearance. After all, he wasnt in jail to impress
or flatter anyone with his fashionable dress. Still,
that doesnt mean he couldnt make a difference -
something that came naturally and with little
effort.
While working out, one of the guys starts
laughing at my getup, rightfully so. Another guy
says, Hey man, you might as well put on a cape
and well call you Captain Bobo. I started
laughing because inside I knew it was all I
needed. All of it said as a joke, I took it as a
friendly challenge.
Always up for a challenge, I asked two guys to
look the other way, as they held up a sheet for
181


me, I pulled the sheet from my bunk, wrapped it
around my shoulders like a cape. I changed from
boxers to briefs, and then told them to drop the
privacy sheet and I did a classic Superman stance
while proclaiming, Captain Bobo is here! The
instigator said I had balls to do what I did
already he then took it a step further and dared
me to walk through the Pod dressed this way. I
said, Thats all? To which he upped the ante to
have Bobo visit every cell.
This was an interesting dare. This wasnt a
second-grade recess playground - this was a
hardcore place. Normally, a guy walking around
with a bed-sheet cape, ratty sneakers and brief
underwear, yelling how hes some bizarre
superhero, would either get you removed to a
darker cell or knocked flat on your face.
But a challenge to this guy isnt just a friendly
182


bet. Its saying, I bet you cant do this, whether
it was really said or not. Matthew actually
pondered this for a second. He was legitimately
looked funny. While in a tough-guy prison, this
might not be the best trick to attempt.
I went down to the end cell where three guys
sat - all on trial for murder, one already
convicted and up for another trial. They did not
talk to anyone unless they chose to. They were
long-termers. They did not give a shit about
anyone, or anything. They would kill you in a
second because they had nothing left to lose. As I
walked into their cell, they started laughing. I
kept this truly straight look on my face the whole
time. I said, Captain Bobo has the message of
the day for you, Cell One inhabitants. Todays
word is "cooperation". It means to get along with
your fellow man, even when it is not everything
you want. And that will bring us to tomorrows
183


lesson and Captain Bobo will see you then.
These guys could not handle it. I just broke
through their defenses and made them laugh.
Cold-blooded murderers with nothing in life but
walls and a metal toilet - and smiles on their
faces.
The whole Pod focused on what was going to
happen next. Matthew began to feel something
inside that gave him a high unlike any medication
or hit of acid. It didnt cost a dime yet was worth
a ton of gold. He found a new drug.
After shedding some light on that first cell, he
went directly to Cell Two and did the same
shtick. Same dorky cape. Same corny message.
But it worked. Then Cell Three. Four. Five. Up
through Eight. Teaching the days word,
cooperation, the whole way. Bobo went to tables
within the Pod and shook hands. Matthew was
184


nowhere to be found. This was all Bobo. For the
first time, that prisons particular Pod had a
welcomed and appreciated visitor.
It was the first of many visits by Captain Bobo.
Bobo taught that there was a greater picture and
everyone had something to give someone. Guys
would come to me and ask if I had seen Bobo, or
if Bobo would be coming around that day. He
was becoming quite popular. They asked if I
could send him to their cell. I did that for about a
week with a new lesson each day before lights-
out. The guards would watch this - they would
flash the lights off and on, open and close the
automatic doors and barked at the wild man in a
cape and bobos. Nevertheless, Bobo had the
power. People in other Pods were up against the
glass walls trying to see what was happening.
Just thinking about it really gives me a charge. It
felt like the single greatest thing I had ever done
185


in my life up to that point, especially at the time.
It was all starting to make sense. The trip - the
journey - was becoming clear. Things were
starting to fall into place as though they happened
for a reason. He was meant to get to that prison
not only to create some funky image, but to learn
something about himself. Something that had
been inside him the whole time.
Ultimately, he found purpose in giving others
purpose. For the other inmates, Matthew (or
Bobo) allowed a release. He offered laughter. He
offered a lesson to help their day, maybe their
life. He gave those inmates something to
anticipate in an otherwise long and dark day.
They wanted him. They called for him. They
needed him. And this meant the world. He felt the
desire to give back to others - especially those
who feel like theres nothing left anyway.
186


Imagine finding your inner-Bobo, who is always
there at any time of day. He doesnt have to teach
you a lesson per se, but hes like an exciter. A
charger. A motivator and a coach. This journey
took Matthew to his. It wouldnt take as much
strife and controversy along the way to find
yours.
At times I would bring Bobo out of nowhere.
You never knew when he would arrive one of the
great things about Bobo. The guards would
always go crazy too. They did not seem to enjoy
having inmates smile or feel better. They said I
could not do what I was doing. They did not like
the power shift and acceptance I was getting. It
was Me vs. Them. But to their dismay and to my
pleasure, people looked to me for guidance. The
guards would not break me, though. No matter
what they did, I would not break. Whenever I
would come back from isolation, 10 minutes later
187


- out came Bobo. I would go around and talk to
people. Bobo would ask them how they were
doing.
Thats a tough question to ask in prison. Imagine
answering it honestly. How are you? Well, I
killed someone or stole a crapload of money and
here I am. Thanks for asking; how are you? But it
wasnt like that. Bobo just cared get through to
them. At least someone was trying. Sure, these
were criminals and killers and thieves, but Bobo
was one of those folks who learned to forgive. No
matter what.
Imagine if every prison had such a character -
goofy as he may be. This fictional character
became the utmost of realities - something
inmates strived to meet and greet every day.
Bobo had the ability to break down barriers,
unleash inner feelings, emotions and dreams, then
188


allow people to take a break from their dreary
lonely day.
For that, hell always be remembered. There are
people walking the planet right now who were in
that jail and will never forget Bobo. Maybe some
of them are still searching for the caped
counselor. Hopefully, most of them have found
that inner-superhero of their own. Cape and socks
are optional. Its more of a spiritual thing
anyway. During his short tenure, Matthew made
an impression that no one expected - himself
included.
On the day I was to be released, after my court
hearing where all the grand standing and cries
not to let the monster walk the streets, were so
scared the Police said., a young guy that would
hang out with me, asked if Bobo would make one
last appearance. I told him, I dont know. I think
189


Bobo already flew from here. I think he is already
free. But maybe if he hears you, hell make one
last visit.
Matthew was then shaken with a strong
revelation. A demand that hed never previously
experienced. As he packed up his belongings, a
distant pounding began. And continued. Getting
louder. And louder. And Louder. And LOUDER.
This was the beating drums of enthusiasm. Of
determination. Of strength. Of hope. Of faith. In
the lowest of confined individuals. They got it.
They understood. This was Matthews biggest
dream. And it kept getting louder.
They dont pound unless theres a fight or a riot
or some other out of the ordinary event, it was
also a way to support each other if the guards
were being especially nasty. It just got louder and
louder, and then it was clear. They were
190


chanting Bobo! Bobo! Bobo! Everybody was
chanting for him. Everybody. I knew Captain
Bobo had to make one last appearance and talk
with each person. It was the most incredible
feeling. Bobo walked around and told everyone
the same thing. Bobo gave his farewell speech.
Theres a guy who you guys know and hes
leaving today. He is just as important as I am it
was he that brought me here. That guy doesnt
know for sure if he accomplished anything.
Perhaps you should say something. Its your turn
to be Captain Bobo.
And the 180 began. Matthew began to realize the
effect and the power he had to influence anothers
life. And he wanted proof. He wanted to know he
could do it. Consider it a reassurance. It was well
deserved and it was well received.
People came by, one by one, and they said their
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piece some gave me things, mementos of them.
They wrote me notes. Little stupid things to most
people, yet they meant the world to them and
them giving it to me meant even more, they gave
more than they had, they gave all they had. They
thanked me. They cried. I never experienced
anything like it. In my own way, I miss those
guys. The best thing about it was those guys were
talking to me - Matthew - not Bobo. Thanking me
for touching their lives. YES! I had made a
difference. Thanks for helping me write a
letter, Thanks for adjusting my neck. Thanks
for helping me exercise.
It was a bittersweet moment. When I left, I
realized that a place I actually hated, somehow
occupied a place in my heart and soul with hope
and goodness because that is the last place you
would ever expect to see the good in people, I
saw it, and I experienced it.
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That is the power of self realization and self love,
I do declare.
And it all started with a dare. A dare is easy for
Matthew and it doesnt take much to challenge
him, either physically or mentally. Bobos
original purpose was to lighten the atmosphere.
He simply rose to the challenge. And something
clicked. Something clicked in all of the inmates
and something stuck in Matthew. This was his
purpose. He had finally reached that next level
and there was so turning back now. People
were accepting something Matthew thought they
never would in a million years. And theres your
answer. He has something to give.
From a hard-fought childhood, to a divorce, many
sleepless nights of hunger and survival, and a gun
to his head - ready to escape - the answer had
arrived. It couldve been on his chalkboard the
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whole time.
When I realized I had something to give, who
was I to waste the time I was given there in jail?
These men needed someone to make a difference
now. They seemed open to a voice that spoke to
their hearts as well as their minds, and in a way
that was respectful of them as men, intelligent
men at that. It was in my heart to speak so...
More to the point, it was something they now
knew they were missing. Through the weeks, and
months everyone lived a little bit through Bobo -
everyone. When I left, I gave away the shoes. I
gave away the books.
Bobo and I were finished there. Bobo lived in
their hearts or he did not. I gave all I had,
through me, and through Bobo.
I do not know if you can imagine what it was like
for people to call upon someone inside your soul.
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Bobo was someone influencing the wind of
change and hope.
For as long as I live, Bobo will always be in my
heart.
In the middle of a storm, the middle of a crisis,
the middle of challenging times - everyone must
pull out their own superhero, themselves.
What came first - Matthew or Captain Bobo?
Who knows? Matthew was always around but
Bobo took time to mature before he was ready to
take on the world. Needless to say, though, he
was someone all along. By helping the inmates as
Bobo first, leaving Matthew to take a back seat
and just watch, the result was truly influential.
Bobo was the forging of Matthews desire to
help. To give back. To help others see they serve
a purpose. To instill in people they have a reason
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for being alive. As his mother always said, he had
something special inside. Maybe she knew. He
just took a few years to realize it.
Everyone has a superhero inside of them
waiting to be called upon. The simplest of actions
can be the most incredible, profound, and
beautiful.
The Captain Bobo idea did not take anything
more than the risk of ridicule. What thinned skin
champion cannot handle some ridicule anyway?
The desire and willingness, my courage of
conviction to take on the mantle of the Captain
Bobo will always help me through any pain or
challenge I may face.
With the challenges I face, often times it helps to
remember I have so much more than the days of
the past which were ever more so challenging,
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once in perspective, things cease to be so
challenging despite the pain or the challenge.
And it started with a dare. A challenge. They
didnt think he could do it. And to this day, hes
still doing it. It turned into a piece of everyone in
that jails sector. A light-hearted, simple, thrown-
together costume to induce laughter had left that
day of Matthews release.
Bobos spirit, however, was infused into the souls
of every prisoner who allowed him in. Just like
the restaurant manager, mentioned at the
beginning of this book. She was having the
worst night, ever and nothing was going right.
Then she found her inner-Bobo. Sounds funny, I
know. But the hug made all the difference in that
night.
To every prisoner he touched, Bobo is still very
much alive - no matter where those guys are
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today. Go. Search.












198


What Beauty Waits Inside the Mall
Theres a lot to be said about true love. Real,
sincere, genuine love. Actually not enough is said
about it. Remember the plan? We all have one.
And its better to do it with someone. To be able
to share the ups and downs and in-betweens.
Ive always felt sorry for people who have a life
without companionship. It almost seems a waste
to see the world, meet the people, try the foods,
and experience emotions without a person to
share such pleasures. Some people dont mind it.
Theyre destined to be alone - or so they say. But
does anyone seriously strive to have no one? Its
possible, I suppose.
Personally, any perspective of the world is
different in the arms of true love. The air smells
different, a joke seems funnier, you hear the birds
sing louder, and time has a more profound
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meaning.
Matthew wasnt meant to be alone - much to his
appreciation.
Leaving for Florida on the trip that changed his
life, Matthew was alone. Granted, he had Jaime
and Mike along for the ride - temporarily. But
inside the mind, Matthew was alone. In school,
Matthew had no one. No one except trouble. It
was a task to gain acceptance, especially when
hes branded for killing his brother. When he
worked 90 hours a week at the age of 12, he was
alone.
When Matthew left the prison in Florida, he was
accompanied by a wise and new-age man -
himself. Someone he hadnt really known in
years, if ever. It was a new relationship with
someone who can produce and affect change in
people. He can strive to conquer the world
200


tomorrow but being able to grab some poor
persons attention and shake reality into them the
reality of being human - this was the most
engaging of introductions.
Matthew was no longer alone. And it couldnt
have happened at a better time. He needed
someone. He needed everyone. Was there room
for one more? Sweet company was on the
horizon.
After leaving the holding facility aka Lockup, in
Florida, I stayed at grandmothers house for a
few days. We caught up on things and I ate just
about everything I had on my when I get the hell
of here I am going eat list.
I was allotted time to get a plane ticket, check in
with the probation people in Florida get any
instructions they might have.
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Before we left for Florida, Jaime said I could
have his car when we returned to Pennsylvania. I
left it at the mechanics before I left so it was
ready and purring to go when I returned. I was
spending more and more time on the road.
From the minute the judge told me I have 15
years probation, like the second he spoke those
words it was in my intention no way would I be
back-No Matter What.
Having had already, spent eight months
incarcerated (yet I received no credit for this
time, held for hearing). All because one officer
could not do, his job correctly, perhaps too
scared to hold onto his composure.
All of the responsibility was on me. I knew there
was no returning to jail. So every waking minute,
I was doing what I was planning to do - getting
ready to splitagain. The behavior from that last
202


journey taught valuable lessons; the hope was a
different tale that this go-around would end in
success. All I did, was collect clothes, all were
easily washable. I also had a sleeping bag. I tried
to look as I did when I worked in the City at that
time I had traveled by commuter trains, just as
any other executive going to work. I was ready
for anything - urban walking, hiking in the
wilderness, woods. Everything needed for bare-
bones survival was condensed into two bags. You
really could not guess what the contents were by
the outside appearance
Matthew began training again - Martial Arts this
time. More intense survival, and resistance type
training, complete with evasion driving, close
Quarters Battle, Knife and Firearm Combat.
Locksmithing. The list is amazing. He was
convinced that what happened on the previous
journey meant nothing outside of staying away
203


from people. . He was on the road to becoming an
erratic nomad - a wanderer.
Everything was ready to go. Baptized as a man;
Matthew felt it important to have blessings was
important. Baptized into, the United Church of
Christ Church. This would prove to most
interesting. The bags were packed, heart racing
and the adrenalin was pumping. The only thing
missing was a water filter and a stove. Forever
and beyond eternity, Matthew will be thankful
he needed a water filter and a stove.
As I am walking into the mall, I prayed. I prayed
for God to lead me, to let me be aware if I was
wrong to go on another journey. Did I want to
escape? You need to understand - prior to
walking through those mall doors, I told everyone
I gave a damn about, Goodbye. I was leaving.
I went to my brothers apartment, to hang out and
204


get a haircut. We climber up a fire ladder to the
roof, the roof was of a 50-story building in
Philadelphia, something he never did or thought
of doing, after talking a bit and laughing about
the roof top location I told him I was leaving. He
tried to get me to change my mind and he almost
got to me. He said, I dont know what Ill do
without you. I think you need to stick around and
fight. I knew I was going to fight, just from a
different direction. I was ready to roll. Nothing
was taking me out of this. So as I entered the
mall, I asked God if I was making a mistake.
Matthews pager buzzed with a girl on the line - a
girl with whom he was currently roommates. All
of his possessions from her apartment were gone
so she thought this was the end. When she
noticed his 50-pound dumbbells were gone, she
was sure. She called persistently. Just to officially
give her the verdict, he decided to call her back.
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I pick up the phone to return the call and I see
someone is looking in my direction, I noticed only
for a second. When I look back, she is still
looking at me, or someone in my direction. I
looked around to see who the lucky fellow was.
I hung up the phone without completing the dial
and disappeared into a store as soon as the
mystery girl turned her back to do something; she
was playing it cool and not exactly staring. Yet I
watched her turn around, as if to look for
someone and I thought to myself, Maybe it was
me she was looking at. The time seemingly went
on forever, especially since she was helping
customers, and I wanted to talk with her.
Finally, I went up to her stores counter, and
acted as though I was browsing and continued to
shop. She came over and asked if I needed help.
Im looking for an earring, I said in reply.
206


I just kept talking - she could tell I wanted to talk
to her about something. Later, I came to find out
she thought I was trying to hook her up with my
friend because he was too shy to say anything
since he hung back when I asked him to. All of a
sudden, she says to me, Do you even care about
in an earring or jewelry at all? Ahh, she was
intelligent and not afraid to speak up. Do you
even have a hole in your ear? For a moment, I
feared I had blown my chances.
She was very persistent in this line questioning.
Still I insisted I did indeed have a hole in my ear.
Several actually, as I did not have my ear
officially pierced, anytime I would wear one, I
would just push the earring post through my ear
lobe. She did not seem to buy it, then suddenly
she seemed to believe me or she did not care.
Yes, I was interested in an earring, for
conversations sake, suddenly I told her I could
207


care less about jewelry, well actually, I was
interested in jewelry a ring. I just wanted to know
you were wearing a ring.
Now I see you are not wearing one, I want to
know if you would have lunch with me. She
already had lunch that day. What about
tomorrow?, I dont work tomorrow, she
responded. This is not going well (Thinking to
myself) could I be wrong about her?
She was angelic, with deep beautiful, endless
eyes. Her smile made me breathe deep and my
pulse quickened. I looked at her body I smiled; it
seemed that I would be next to her body for the
rest of my life. It was a reality, the unmistakable
vibe of her soul sang out to my own. I was
actually in love at the moment we met and spoke.
I am here on Wednesday! How about 11:00,
right here, will be fine. The Mall cafeteria was
208


just about 20 yards away. I was so excited, and I
had a belly full of butterflies, as I got ready for
our lunch date. I told my brother that I found my
wife, and that I was getting an apartment, and a
job. There are times when I have a sound in my
voice, an unmistakable drive and it was definitely
there that night.
Matthew cordially nudged close enough to check
for her wedding ring. She didnt have one, so
why not seize the opportunity of a possible sign
from above. In actuality, this was an unusual day
since the girl always wore some sort of ring. Had
she been sporting some sign of commitment and
companionship, Matthew would have walked on
by with no greeting at all. In the end, she agreed
to a lunch date. Could the prayer have been
answered that quickly?
I walked away from that conversation with Ali,
209


called my brother and said, Youre not going to
believe this. I just met my wife.
It wasnt long before that Matthew and his
brother stood atop a building in Philly saying
their fond farewells. How quickly things change.
But Meet Matthew.
His sister-in-law didnt know what to believe.
Matthew repeated - I just met my wife. Im going
to get an apartment and marry this girl. I do not
know how I knew this but I did. It was a feeling
inside me, stronger than any other emotion ever.
My prayer had been answered. This wasnt going
to be some fling. This was the real deal. I felt all
of this from that one little conversation. By
looking in her eyes, I could tell I wanted to know
everything about her. Thats something I never
felt before. The next day, all I could think about
was Ali. When she turned around the second time,
210


it was incredible. On the date, she was really
quiet. I had to draw information from her. But I
could tell she was different in a lot of ways and
she had a tender heart. She was a real soft
person, so soft enough that maybe the world had
hurt her. I still have the receipt from our lunch.
After one successful outing, the two made a
second date. Ali agreed to some sort of outdoor
camping excursion. See, Matthew isnt one to shy
away from something he wants. You learn this
rather fast. If he wants it, he goes after it. If he
cant get it, theres a damn good reason.
During their first date, Matthew had a lot in his
past not yet ready for divulging. When you want
to impress a woman, its not wise to say you were
recently released from jail, among other things.
At first, Matthew mentioned very little. He
wasnt scared - but he knew this wasnt the time.
211


Importantly though - he wasnt scared.
Obviously, a persons view could easily alter
when hearing of such previous ordeals. Coming
from a poor and abusive home, leaving school at
age 12, and so much more - its not exactly
pleasant lunch conversation. But the time would
come, he hoped.
On the third date, we talked about our dreams.
We built a fire, rolled up together and just hung
out. It was really a nice time; we slept outside
and made plans again. The next time, we did the
same exact thing, but all of a sudden, we started
talking about the bad things we had experienced.
Why you shouldnt be near me, why you wouldnt
want to continue with me, why you should go
away. She kept driving home the fact that I
wouldnt want her so I came out with it - we were
going to be married. Of course, that was moving
a bit fast and that freaked her out a little bit.
212


When she said I was moving too fast, I got
angry.
Everything was going quite well up to this point.
A prayer was answered, which had temporarily
postponed Matthews journey and, in the process,
met his alleged wife. Talk about moving fast. But
this was Matthew. He wanted the good change
now. This was the next level. But when Ali
admitted being a bit taken back by the marriage
talk, Matthew felt a quick sense of failure.
Almost as if this was too good to be true. Its not
that he was quitting, but until this point, hes
never been able to have a self-optimistic view. A
good thing was happening and if Ali wasnt
happy, it couldve been tacked on as one more
flaw.
I made a mistake, I thought. I wanted to leave
then and there. I really didnt think we were
213


going to make it beyond that point. Rather than
quitting, and after I had calmed down, I realized
this was a very hurt girl. She just needed some
time. We were heading back to Montgomeryville,
where I lived, and I said, Im going to say
something to you that will sound arrogant but its
not. Its just confidence. Im your knight in
shining armor - you just dont know it. Better
yet, you know it but are afraid to admit it. But I
am patient and willing to wait - but not forever.
I was almost embarrassed that I said something
like that.
Matthew had to fulfill probation obligations like
drug rehab, which too many places seemed
reluctant. Before entering the Horsham Clinic,
Ali took two bags and the two famous dumbbells
to her place. During his brief stay at the rehab
center, Matthew and Ali talked considerably
every night.
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I went to the mall for another lunch and we
made a date for another date. When I was at the
clinic, I wanted to leave. That wasnt the place
for me. Ali came to pick me up. She knew I was
supposed to stay there longer. She sat and talked
with me to see if Id really leave. Ali allowed me
to stay at her place. When I was there, I called
the probation place to tell them I had moved.
Thats when I made a commitment to not run. Id
tease her about that all the time. We lived
together for a long time. We really started to
grow. I believed that God had answered my
prayer. I didnt think hed be cruel and trick me
in any way. Ive prayed before without them
coming true but it just wasnt the right time I
guess. Had she not been working that day in the
mall, who knows? It was just exactly the way it
was supposed to be.
The beauty that waited inside the mall was
215


exactly what the doctor ordered to turn
Matthews life around. It was time for the next
chapter. It was time for a new beginning. He set
out to find something on that road. He found
trouble and a new confined, barbed-wire home.
He found Captain Bobo. Captain Bobo found
others. And best of all, he found himself. He
found Ali. And Ali found him.
She knew more about me by our second date
than I thought she would ever learn about me. I
told my P.O. in Florida that I was going to
Arizona to get married. She simply asked how
long I would be there, when I would be back, and
for a copy of the marriage certificate. We were
packing stuff in the van - I was putting everything
in there. I was still packed and ready to split - I
even had snowshoes. Hey, you never know. Just
our luck, it turned out to be the biggest storm the
south ever saw. New Mexico did not know what to
216


do with it. We ignored the advisory not to go on
the road. As we pulled onto the ramp, I said to
Ali, Well, we are either going to die tonight or
have one hell of a story to tell our children. Alis
face was scared. She was definitely apprehensive
but I did not take that as a sign to return home.
Under those circumstances, most people would
go crazy with someone else in such close quarters
with deep snow all around. Thankfully, this was
an opportunity to become closer with someone
else and on this trip; we grew incredibly close
toward each other.
Most people visit malls to walk around, window-
shop, and roam endlessly to return home with
bags of items and empty pockets. Matthew
returned home with that true love. It just goes to
show what a little prayer and some hope can
achieve.
217


Chronic Pain Creates Chronic Headaches
If there is one thing Matthew is accustomed to,
its visiting doctor after doctorafter doctor.
You cant help but sympathize with the guy. So
many opinions. More medications. A new
diagnosis. And the pain remains. Worse and
worse. All it took was an instant to disregard his
inner-feeling when he didnt heed the trucks
warning, which resulted in a life of excruciating,
often debilitating and chronic, pain.
As stated earlier, this multi-faceted, never-ending
affliction, adds problems to running, moving,
lifting, even sitting down. Lying down is his only
physical haven, but its an emotional and mental
hell.
Ive been told that everything I do is going to
cause me pain. When people talk to me or call
me, they say, My God, you sound so much
218


better! When in reality, the only thing I am better
at is dealing with the pain at that moment. I just
had an uneventful hospital visit. There was a
different diagnosis with each doctor. Thats been
the story of my affliction - doctors telling me
whats wrong with me, or not to do this, or
perhaps, Maybe you will get lucky this time
around, this will help. How would you like
hear this garbage is, say, your body and life had
the challenges mine seems to have?
Its enough to make Matthew a bit lost - unaware
of what road to try. His pain is nothing to be
taken for granted. There are limits. Some rather
difficult to ignore or dismiss - Matthews
standard style of pain-control when medications
fail to do the job sufficiently. Every doctor said
no, no, no.
A doctor had recently assured him that joining a
219


volunteer fire academy, or anything else for that
matter, would be just fine for him. That was all he
needed. A doctor (indirectly) encouraged
Matthew to dismiss and ignore his physical
symptoms to his own peril. No matter how big
the pain gets, and how bad it tries to paralyze his
body, this guy can be a monster in a pinch. He is
stronger than an ox, as one thickheaded as one
too. Besides the Incredible Hulk, Matthew would
be the one to have on your side in a crisis.
They tell me to work until pain. Or when
exercising - workout until pain. When you get to
pain - stop. There is no limit - there is always
some pain. It is just a matter of working through
it. If I feel good, I might not feel good later in the
afternoon. Therefore, I am not making much
progress. I even try not to tell anyone a\ It is
pointless. What can they do? If I know, it will
make you feel like shit, why would I do that?
220


Therefore, I am doing great, thanks. Thanks for
asking.
Im guilty of that probably more than anyone.
Hey Matthew, you sound good. I say it all the
time. I never learn. I wonder how many others do.
Sure, he sounds good, but on the inside, theres
more agony than Ill ever experience. When I go
to his house. Hey Matthew, you look good. How
are you feeling? Youd think Id learn.
Anyway, after the last extensive hospital stay,
Matthew is in the same amount of pain, now with
a $27,000 doctors bill. Not a step closer to pain
relief. As much as Matthews life has been filled
and engrossed with pain, its been more filled
with healing. Theres a fine line between healing
emotionally and physically.
Many of Matthews journeys were to heal the
mind, find himself, and become more relaxed
221


with his inner being. To some extent, it was
beneficial. This book, in many ways hopefully, is
a guide to healing. Its always interesting to view
the world through another persons eyes.
Whatever lives behind Matthews eyes is truly a
life lesson. This book is about perspective. Its
actually quite simple.
People have bad days - we all encounter those
times that just bring everything down. Heal
yourself in an instant. Just think of you know
who. If you reach that point where giving up
seems to be the only option, think of Matthew.
He had more than a million opportunities and
plenty of reasons. That which does not kill us
I believe this book will be beneficial to a lot of
people. When the student is ready, the teacher
appears. I hope this book will be that teacher.
After having it decided for me not to blow my
222


brains out, I took apart that damned hospital bed
to erase that section of my life. (Of course there is
a bitter sweet separation happening there for me-
the bed did help in ways I am proud to have
overcome I imagine that it would have been
almost, almost I say again to sit up those fist
several months so) I so sure there was a great
likelihood of workers compensation people
looming right around the corner to take pictures
of what they would consider labor intensive,
proving finally that I am a cheat and just fine.
However, I also knew they would discover
eventually how hurt I still was. I knew I had to
stop being hurt to start getting better. That is
when I got rid of the cane. There was a month
that I felt I could have walked without the cane,
yet I used it because I felt I had to. I wanted to
improve my life, but not make it so outwardly
obvious so some asshole is going to take pictures
and throw them at me in a courtroom. A single
223


picture can affect a life, this is not fair, if there is
anything that is not fair, it seems as though tells
the truth, unbiased, yet all it can claim to be is a
snapshot that can be interpreted differently by
different people. How, from a picture, can
someone know that carrying two grocery bags
into the house does not keep me bed-ridden for
two days? You never get the full story with just a
few pictures, especially when theyre taken out of
context.
When speaking to a lawyer, Matthew was
notified of an investigators visit. His report
stated, It is in the opinion of this investigator that
Matthew Tartaglia is genuinely injured and the
companys money could be better spent
elsewhere. But he was still hounded. After an
investigator followed them up the turnpike, he
stopped and pulled over. Matthew had a .45 in his
belt, under his coat. He walked back to him,
224


slowly, and said, I notice that everywhere we go,
you go. I really did not care who he was, I
wanted him to back off. I drove away and never
saw him again. But they still had to try and find
things. I have told them they are welcome to see
my life whenever they wish, as in come move in
and see what you see, there is no one can fake
24/7 if your faking your concentration is
eventually breaking. If they could see what I felt,
they would have no choice but to back off and go
after other quote frauds and fakes, until proven
otherwise and leave this truly injured person
alone, aah the whole thing stinks to the heavens.
Trying to disregard the barrage of doctors
advice, Matthew didnt care about what method
was correct. He was going to take all they said
and make the best of it. Hed visit the gym,
weighing about 152 pounds. Workmans comp.
paid for a one-months membership.
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I used to take a lot of meds so I could go to the
gym. I tried to get as much out of those 30 days
as was humanly possible. Then I started working
out without medication. I kept a diary and started
to look leaner for my size. I threw out all the
medication I had, and flushed them all down the
toilet. Now, when I worked out, I loved it. It was
incredible. However, when I first started, before
Jaime talked about detoxifying my system, I
would load up on so many pills that you could
have shot me and I would not have stopped. I
would just stack up so much weight on a rack and
keep rolling it until it would fall to the ground,
tearing the scar tissue in my back loose. When I
had put some size onto my arms, I was thrilled.
Jaime was sure I could do so much more if I
would get off the meds. But I needed them; I
never liked that as a fact in my life, now I see the
meds for what they are. They are helpful, and
used correctly and in as much moderation
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possible, life enhancing
Jaime didnt feel the same pain, though, so he
couldnt have known the numbing sensations.
Matthew went back on the meds because it was
easier than fighting the pain, but he still worked
out - three hours at a time. Hed work out for 30
to 40 minutes, then eat, work out some more.
Matthew began to teach himself more than ever
about nutrition, amino acids, and energy drinks.
He loved to read and learn, remember. It started
becoming a lifestyle for this ever-determined guy.
As mentioned earlier, he would live at the gym,
unbeknownst to anyone. It was a place to live, a
place to work out, and a place to grow both
physically and spiritually.
All I did was pushing the limit would climb the
shale walls of a quarry, which snaps and breaks
very easily. We went to construction sites for fun.
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I never claimed everything I did was brilliant. I
had been in bed for three years so I making up
for lost time.
was I needed to live a bit to reinstate the
confidence I had lost. I hungered to look danger
in the face. I conquered everything so far - got
nothing on me.
The gym was a haven. It was where he knocked
the pain to the mat. When a gym wasnt
available, Matthew would go to a school
playground and utilize its equipment into some
sort of a workout. Hed use every piece of gym
equipment there to exercise each muscle.
He simply wanted to be stronger. In the brain and
in the muscle. The training wasnt necessarily
preparing him for anything other than getting
bigger and more confident. In case another injury
would arrive, his body would definitely be better
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advantaged. Matthew didnt want to be 152
pounds and injured. The bigger he was, the better
he felt he would fair. It was all-inclusive with
officially meeting his inner-Matthew.
Its a confidence booster to be big. Im 56.
Maybe 57 in the right kind of shoes. Feeling
BIG is tough for a guy like me. And standing
next to Matthew, Im about as big as one of his
legs. Its easy to see where his size can equal
esteem. But hell drive it home to me. Its not
your height, or weight. Its the power of your
Bobo. Sounds crazy, but it works.
Finally I found a room I could afford and with a
little hustle here, and some creative thinking
there, I could also eat, so I got a few more
weights to compliment my 50s. I would take
chains; wrap them all around my body for
weight. Id put a layer of clothing on, put chains
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everywhere around my legs, arms, shoulders,
back and waist; then more layers of clothing to
add heat and hide the chains, it was the dead of
winter and 0200 HRs
An inclined hill was the cheapest and easiest
trainer. Matthew became the MacGyver of
exercise equipment. Whatever he found or use to
his muscle-building advantage, hed take
advantage.
Initially, they gave me a wheelchair and the first
thing I did with it was do wheelies, this was
before I pushed it! I just loved playing around
with chair at times, plus the strength increase
that resulted; it built talons from my hands.
Alternatively, how to go long a distance could I
go just me pushing the wheels forward, round
and round. At one point, I could not push myself
anymore. I had gotten so far up and away from
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the house that I had to get up and start pushing it.
I remember finding things on the way home that I
added to the wheelchair for weight. Radio, a
cable box, some things people had thrown away.
That stupid wheelchair itself became a piece of
training equipment/wheelbarrow kind of thing.
Then they gave me a walker. I would do set dips
with that both for chest and triceps, only with the
triceps you put your feet up in the air on
something level with your waist. My chest started
to build up and my grip got tighter as my
forearms grew. When I started building triceps,
it seemed like they got strong fast.
Matthew utilized the written word as another
form of therapy during this time. His workout
diaries are still in his gym, filled with routines,
rep counts, stats and weights. An anesthesiologist
told him that if he can live with the pain and
develop his muscles, Matthew you could
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basically do anything you desire". He took that to
heart.
It seemed pretty logical to me. I believe had I
not worked out until then, my bones would have
cracked and splintered. I would have been even
more seriously hurt. Of course, I am hurt more
residually right now to me this means I have a
fighting chance. Along with the meds, nutrition,
and working out extensively I am effectively
rewriting the supposed written more or less in
stone progress of the damage thereby prolonging
my life.
And pushing through that pain. After all, the
option to give up was always there. What fork in
the road would you have chosen?
To this day, Matthew continues to push the
envelope with working out, testing safety, and
everything else he attempts. Simply put - he
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knows nothing else. There is no other way.
At this point in my life, whatever happens to me,
I just have to laugh and think of it as material for
the next stage. I can take all of it to help others
with their battles. The allopathic medical road
can be a slick slope to navigate. Do not settle for
a generic answer. Get a second and third
opinion, if are not satisfied with the opinions you
have so far. Some folks seem not to realize the
doctor works for you! Make them responsible for
their behavior and performance; if they screw it
up sue the crap out of them. You would be
surprised at what a little persistence and a firm
attitude will do for you. Sadly, it seems doctoring
and medicine is for profit - not for making people
better. When you find a good doctor - and they do
exist - stick with that person and tell other people
about them, tell the doctor also. I have worked
with doctors for some time, you can be absolutely
233


positive they do not get much positive feedback,
just grief! When you find a money-hungry butt-
head, tell ten times as many people, you may be
saving someone a lot of grief and at worst
potential suicide.
Matthew firmly believes that if a doctors salary
were a mere $25,000 a year, the medical
profession would be more genuine. They would
be there because they love that job and they love
changing a life for the better.
Throw yourself in front of a bullet and shield the
President, your annual is about $25,000, no
special recognition, commendation maybe,
however it is expected of you, and only folks
willing to commit to such an endeavor need
apply! That is the Secret Service and the amount
they make annually. It seems to me if one made
just enough money to get by, and were a doctor,
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you would have a healing vocation. While his
view on the medical field isnt exactly top-notch,
Matthew does believe in good, beneficial,
wholesome doctors. It is more than 20 years
going through chronic pain and, for that
duration, not much has changed. It has not
changed since day one. Every hospital visit
results with no change. This is the main reason
for solidifying my graduation and became
certified in the arts that have served me so well,
you see the select few that are able to impose
their will-power in pursuit of personal growth
and change. I have used self-hypnosis and
hypnosis dealing with my own challenges, and
assisting others with their challenges and the
attainment of their goals, but as a friend said I
was making a difference! I did not realize the
immeasurability of my hypnotic skills. As an
added bonus for me, I am never in pain, nor do I
think about it, while working with a client,
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NEVER! Can you understand the depth of
dedication and focus this requires? Actually, I am
surprised that more people do not avail
themselves to the awesome power of hypno-
therapy. While being addressed as Doctor is
possible. I am not a doctor of medicine, nor do I
prescribe medications, no invasive operations
here, however I am a word doctor. I paint the
scene your subconscious mind will accept and
attach the messages of change you wish to attain,
or the freedom from a fear. There you have it,
change happens because it happens at the sub-
conscious level, as I said it is the rare few who
are more able to impose their conscious will with
the same type of results. I am very fortunate to be
as willful as I am, I do not, however suggest
willpower for making change. Especially for the
faint of heart, or lack, conviction of character
which exacts its own toll. I say if you can
appreciate a massage for the body, why not a
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vacation for the mind?
From a holistic perspective, nutrition, vitamins,
minerals, amino acids, enzymes are effective in
affecting everything. Matthew says without them,
the struggle through pain would escalate and his
body would have crumbled.
Pain is a most excruciating disease because its
invisible. Unless someone is crooked over, or
bleeding, you cannot see it. You can look at
someone like me and you cannot tell I am in
agony. I know the truth. I feel it inside. I know
that to fight this pain, I need muscle. I also need
some sort of outlet because everything affects me
differently. I believe an injury actually defines the
journey you need to make to know your soul. If
you come to this world with an injury that you
need to face on a daily basis, it somehow it seems
to reflect what kind of journey you need to make.
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Pain may just be a journey to the soul. If you
find yourself feeling like I do - where you need to
do something about it but you think you dont
have what it takes and no one will listen - well,
youre reading this, arent you? I did not have
anything outside myself and self determination
Then I had even less. After that even less still.
Then I got myself 124 grain injection of copper
and lead when I was shot in Lakeland, then I was
held for hearing 281 days, walked out with a 15
year probation period that makes everyday an
opportunity to just plain screw up. Then I started
from scratch, again, big-time. If I can do it,
anyone can and that is just the way it is. . I
learned and studied and most importantly
implemented the exercises and skills so that I
could over write the bullshit scripts in my sub
conscious mind.
We dare you to doubt yourself. And remember
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those dumbbells that went on the journeys?
Theyre still in his home gym, where we usually
met for all of our interviews. It would be about 8
in the morning in the middle of the winter. About
20 degrees and Matthew is in the gym lifting God
knows how much weight. Grunting, breathing
heavily, and asking how Ive been. Hed stand,
look in the mirror and seem almost satisfied.
Rarely is the man ever fully satisfied.
You look pretty good. So how are you feeling?
Id ask, as always. I never learn.





239


From Scars to Stars
Probation can be quite the thought inducer. It
offers time to sit and reflect on the past, what
state of mind youre in during the present, and
what can occur in the future. For Matthew, it was
better than a jail sentence for the Florida incident.
So while the workers comp. people continue to
probe his privacy, his time cant be wasted.
Probation isnt a problem or a bump in the
road. It is more of a ramp to something more, if
you open yourself up to this possibility. There
are times when I have had to apply myself
through the eyes of a different paradigm, than
my own. Things affect you, according to your
internal scripts. Just paint the big and small
things the same. As in, The rain falls on the
wicked and the just. Rain is rain, how the rain
affects you, well that is according to your
240


internal script. If you give rain immense power
of negativity, and you will most certainly have
problems of immense negative power! When it
rainsThink on that for a few moments, then
thinks on it again. You should have concluded
things as you expect things to unfold, are sure to
unfold. Surethere are times when you are
surprised. That is the most likely a time of
growth and change, and most likely the closest
you will come to death.
Matthew learned valuable lessons while out on
the road. He was introduced to a number of new
things, including his identity.
And exactly who is that person inside? Someone
who yearns to make a difference. Someone who
wants to see the good in people or help them see
their own good. Someone who wants to motivate
an individual to want to motivate others. Its a
241


beautiful thing.
The Search and Rescue team is an international
organization that does exactly what their names
states. Theyre called upon to search for missing
persons, even animals and, hopefully, rescue
them - alive, preferably. This was the perfect
avenue in which to help a great number of people
- feel good about it - and teach those lessons to
others.
I was climbing up a wall at an Extreme Fitness
show and I saw this woman, all in black B.D.U.s
(Battle Dress Uniform), walking around with a
Rottweiler. I asked her if I could help with
anything since something seemed to be going on.
She explained she was there with her teammates
to acclimate the public with Search and Rescue.
So I went inside to their section, watched the
chief talk and saw how they operated. I was
242


actually a little nervous. I said to him, Ah, can
we talk a minute. The Chief answered, Oh boy,
tell me what happened. I explained the
circumstances in 1995 and let him know I was
under supervision for it. He asked about the
charge and I told him. He look said at me was as
if to say, Im sure this is either a mistake or a
unique set of circumstances. He brought up my
circumstances before the Supervising Board.
But it was the best pain hed ever felt. Granted
the workout pain was positive for his own
reasons, but joining this elite group would
eventually help people. Do you understand that?
Help people. This was music to his ears. He
doesnt regret one second of it. Not one bit of it.
Nor should he, I believe. Matthew knows that
when he walks down a hall with a limp, or if he
has a hard time reaching for something, theres a
good reason behind the challenges.
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Search and Rescue was the ideal avenue for him
and any challenge he encountered. It was a
release. Continuing on this rise, Matthew was
able to get out into the world and attack other
peoples problems. He was done rescuing himself
so it was time to focus on someone else. Anyone
else.
He became so involved with S&R that Ali joined
as well - just so she could spend time with him.
He gave every weekend, for a long time, and the
pain worsened. Upon entering this prestigious
group, he was looking forward to saving lives - to
be elite. He saved his own so why not help
others? He was ready to be an example. To
influence. To inspire.
If theres one thing - just one thing - Matthew
excels at, its being an example. Influencing.
Inspiring. And you know what else? You dont
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even realize it. If he asks you how your day is;
what youre doing this weekend; what TV shows
youve been watching. Somehow, the guy gets to
you in such a positive way. Doesnt matter what
the topic. He doesnt necessarily try to, but this is
who hes become. Remember the hug? For
Search & Rescues preparation training, Matthew
had a head start.
After accepted with a yearlong probationary
period-instead of the customary 90 days, I went
through training after training I applied myself
with all my heart body and soul you know I
loved it. I would go through so many trainings on
weekends when I could have been feeling sorry
for myself. I can tell you this although I would
not be as hurt today had I not reached above my
station in life, joined Search and Rescue, or
competed in The Highland Games-you think I am
crying over it? Oh, hell no, I am not!
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You needed a bare-minimum understanding of
going out into a field and searching for someone
with a team and First Aid and CPR. Then
essentially what you get after Search Operations
is great. Not to cast aspersions on anyone. I had
the chance and some money so I enrolled in
repelling courses. There was also, Terrorism
Response courses, Hazardous Material Response
(HAZMAT) courses, trench rescue, low
angle/high angle rescue, Child Lost in the Woods
presenter. The O.C. Pepper Foam and Baton
instruction training, Self-Defense instructor,
Critical Incident Stress Management and
Debriefing (CISM/D), Master of Search
Operations (MSO), Community Emergency
Response To Terrorism Level2 of possible 3,
Crime Scene preservation, Court Testimony, the
list does go one. I was ready and I am much more
so, today. It seems after the training if asked or
given the opportunity I could have actually taught
246


many of the trainings the first day I got there.
Then again I am a bit biased.
On April 1st, duty called and this was no April
Fools Day prank. His S&R pager displayed 911
after the call-back number, meaning everything
had to be dropped and prepare for instructions.
He drove from Bucks County to Fulton County -
about 170 miles away. An 86-year-old man, who
suffered from Alzheimers, Parkinsons and
Emphysema, went out for a walk and never came
back. During the drive to the scene, Matthew was
playing out all the situations in his head; going
through all the possible scenarios he might
encounter.
We found the guy by walking an ever-widening
concentric circle from the PLS (Point Last
Seen).When we arrived it was already 18 hours
after everyone was else started looking for him.
247


When you get to that PLS, you walk an ever
widening concentric circle around that spot and
should be able to find the person if theyre within
500 yards. A woman on another team and I
started to do this. She started to triage the man as
I radioed my chief and started cutting away
overgrowth so the medics could bring a
backboard in. Everyone started to congregate
around. My back was bothering me, but for those
precious few moments, I did not care and then I
did not feel anything pain wise. There were other
more important things to tend to at this moment.
Mr. Banks was SOMETHING LIKE 300 yards
away from his house. He was a bit cranky - God
bless that guy. That was my first commendation.
The certificate said, among other things,
Without your help, Mr. Banks would have
suffered probable death. I knew I found my
place. I had never felt anything like it.
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It was Captain Bobo to the 100
th
power. A lot of
people in the world dont even know Search and
Rescue exists. They may have heard about it,
briefly, but dont really know its true essence. Its
99.9% voluntary. People are giving up their
precious time to train to go out and look for
people they dont even know. Why? If no one
looks or cares, theyd be dead. Thankfully, there
are true-blooded humans on the planet who refuse
to let that happen. Most anyone can join.
I was and am still a constant ambassador for
Search and Rescue. I show copies of my
newspaper articles, I tell people to go to the team
Web site, (www.ussartf.org ) too many times,
because of a lack of Search and Rescue; people
have not survived getting lost. It is my opinion
Search and Rescue are to be called the moment
the Law enforcement is. Search and Rescue
should be contacted as soon as the police are
249


called when a person is reported missing. This
should be a part of the 911 Emergency Response
Systems. Law enforcement seems touchy about
that. Some say they want to save the show. That
they seem to want the trophy, while to me the
trophy is the safe return of the lost person.( As far
as the statements about what is said is second
hand to me, I agree and disagree in different
degrees) While oftentimes- too much wasted time
griping over authority; it is wasting someones
valuable time to be rescued successfully. The
person has minutes - minutes - in some
circumstances. As long as they are found why
worry who found them?
Search and Rescue offers a lot of soul recovery.
For people who couldnt pass physical standard
tests in law enforcement, they want to get
involved in something important to make a
difference but dont want to get into it that way.
250


Search and Rescue is an incredible outlet for that.
The experiences Matthew encountered in this
prestigious machine of assistance are
unmatchable. Those are the exact actions he
desired before. Then once in jail the need to help
was reinforced.
Before helping the world, he had to first help
himself. With that out of the way, it was time to
put others first. And, with some love, an open
heart, a truckload of pain, but even more desire,
those were some of the best times of his life. Hes
certainly a better person for all of them. Every
level and stage of that plan.
I think about the things Ive seen and done. Its
insane to be a part of it all. It has always made
me search for higher ground. It has taught me to
give people respect before judging them. It has
given me the insight that ordinary people can
251


make extraordinary changes in someones
ordinary life. There are no fair-weather search
days. I will train in inclement weather when
others see fit to stay in the house. I will be out
busting my butt, getting the experience to help
people. I like that many of my team mates have
the same attitude.
Through S&R, Matthew has learned to take
precautions when going camping, hiking,
wherever. Its safe to pack a bag to help render
assistance. He wasnt necessarily taught this but
more trained or programmed to do this. For S&R
members, its a lifestyle. Once its in you, its in
you. Its part of everyone in the organization.
I was driving home one day from a Search and
Rescue event - a fund-raiser and no one showed
up. Well in the time frame I understood it to be, I
was too early. This is how I knew there was a
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God involved in my life and in Search and
Rescue. I was driving home on a road on which I
had never taken a right-hand turn. This day,
something just told me to take this right. All of a
sudden, people are flashing their lights at me - I
was not sure what was going on. When I came up
the hill, there was a huge accident, a person lying
in the street, and a lot going on. I turned my car
as to block traffic thereby protect the exposed
person on the street, and had the other people get
off the street. Thanks to my experience and
knowledge, I was able to make a difference there.
I will hear things intuitively that my spirit
whispers to me and, most of the time, I will listen.
You never know whats going to happen.
Sergeant Matthew H. Tartaglia is now retired
from Search and Rescue but the desire to save
lives through instruction is eternal. He cant help
it. It just happens. Its just him.
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Probation officers set new limits prohibiting
Matthew from basically being on the team or any
other type relief organization. The back of the
probation officers business card states their goal
is to protect the individual and make him or her
worthy to the public. Worthy to the public? If all
Matthew has done since Florida wasnt worthy to
the public, their perception of positivity is
significantly blurry.
Ill always have the ribbons - the scars and the
stars. I loved my time with Search and Rescue. I
have not changed many of my pursuits in life
while on the topic of rescue. Perhaps I will hear
or see someone needing aid and it will just be my
civic duty to render that very aid. It is a law, the
Good Samaritan Law actually. It is also a really
a shame we need a law to state not to render aid
would be a violation of law.
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As for me, I will always be in Search and Rescue,
and a Sergeant albeit retired, that honor will
not, nor can it be, ever be taken away. I still know
what to do in extreme situations and will always
rise to the occasion. Thinking it all over, I just
laugh about it now.
If the probation folks thought this would
extinguish my desire to help, they have not been
very effective, in understanding who I am or what
I stand for. Nor have they determined it does not
take much to be in my shoes! Believe this, what
happened to me, can happen to you. To them, to
any person, it is all timing, perhaps fate.
Nor does it seem they have learned what it takes
to give a person absolution, even a chance to feel
as though they might one day know absolution? It
is like forgiveness, yet a step further, a big step
further. A difference must take place. I have done
255


my best to be the change I want to see in the
world. As the end draws near I have seen an
about face with regard to my being treated with a
respect to my uniqueness. As well as seemingly
being respectful of the changes I have made, and
dealing with the reality that something is wrong,
with the charges and the way the case was
handled but will they step up and help me turn
this over? I am not betting against anyone,
however, I truly doubt it.
You come into this world alone and you leave the
same way. You are alone.
256


Pacifier of Ground Zero
What can be written about 9/11 that hasnt
already been etched in stone, on paper, on
canvas, and undoubtedly, in the minds of
everyone who walks Gods green earth? They
were the most horrific images to invade the
television screens and afternoon papers. The
country stopped to wait - what would happen
next?
Would a plane fall close to home? How many
more lives would perish? Was New York being
taken off the map?
Everyone knows where they were when they
heard the news of a plane hitting the World Trade
Center. Then the next plane. And the next plane.
And the next plane. They were falling from the
sky with seemingly no way to stop. Like some
War-of-the-Worlds movie set, people - with a
257


briefcase or a coffee in hand - ran for their lives.
Youve never seen such utter terror in one place.
Hopefully we never will again.
An entire city, covered in ash - dirty, dusty ash
comprised of debris, glass, chemicals, and
innocent remains. Yes, everyone knows where he
or she was when our homeland was invaded. I
was on the highway, about 10 minutes from
work. Of course, it was the word on the street.
Did you hear? Everyone wanted to be the bearer
of the bad news.
Mustve been an accident, I thought. A small
plane slipped off course. And as if some bad
dream, it kept happening. The world stopped and
all seemed to be quiet. As I stood in the middle of
a street, the reality of it sinking in, a plane flew
overhead. Could that be the next one?
Matthew was at home, working at his desk, after
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a screwed-up morning and weird conversation
with his wife leaving things awkward between
them.
I wanted to put that out of my mind but the
phone rang. Ali asked what I was doing when she
seemed to get that I was too relaxed even for me
she told me to turn on the TV. I saw the constant
replay of the plane that flew into the World Trade
Center. Two minutes after I turned on the TV, the
second plane hit. I went from having a personal-
shitty day to BANG! Suddenly, everything
changed. When the second plane hit, I thought
how nice it would be if it was Orson Welles War
of the Worlds again.
Then I thought to myself, this is September. It was
right after the summit. I remember telling people
for two years that there was going to be a summit
in New York about World Trade Organization.
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That was eerie to say the least. Fifteen minutes
later, my father calls to ask if Im going to be
involved with the rescue.
No question about it. There was no doubt in my
mind. Everything during the rise stages of
Matthews life, he believes, was a ladder leading
up to 9/11 and his readiness to help. It was all
preparation. Saving Mr. Banks was just the tip of
the iceberg. Matthews Search and Rescue chief
called to say they were on standby for all things
CISM (Critical Incident Stress Management) and
debriefing. Theyd be set up at the site at three
different spots but would be specifically asked to
come when ready. He couldnt leave without the
OK. Only problem was Matthew was ready -
NOW.
The 9/11 scene was a recovery mission soon
after it occurred. Few people know that. No one
260


had the heart or the stupidity at that point to say
the truth. Sure, I would find people if they were
alive, would be a miracle. It was a recovery
mission - plain and simple.
When the chief had called, it was after two planes
hit the WTC. Matthew, the chief, and the world
hadnt yet felt the impact of the other two
crashes. He was sure there would be more,
however.
I thought for a second we were going into World
War III. I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, it
was due to pilots error. I could not imagine that
someone just flying a straight straight-line for the
World Trade Center. It almost looked like there
was a terrible miscalculation and hopefully,
could it bethe pilot and co pilot simply froze
upon realizing the error. I knew instinctively it
was not so and a state of war existed. (It scares
261


me to realize how many were clueless to this
fact.)
People were calling me, asking what I planning
to do, what they could offer in aid. Everyone who
called, I asked for his or her help. We were
already getting ready to go. It was so hard to sit
still and wait for the call. Complete torture.
Lance, a fire fighter I knew. Mike a teammate
from Search and Rescue and my friend and
Mikes Cousin Nick made up our team ready and
determined to leave.
We made a flyer for neighbors homes, simple
and to the point.
Dear neighbor - As you know, our country was
severely attacked. We are your neighbors and
members of local a Search and Rescue team on
standby for deployment to Ground Zero. We
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would like to bring food, water, playing cards,
cigarettes, writing paper, pens, magazines
(anything but violent content) whatever you can
think of. Please contact us.
A nurse came over, and donated a fully stocked
Advanced Life Saving ambulance triage bag.
People; offered items we did not think of, gum,
candy, and sanitary products for female
responders, puzzle books
A large computer manufacturer (Hewelt-
Packard) offered laptops, printers, and wireless
Air-Cards (AT&T). We had phone service for the
wireless Air-Cards through another company
(Sprint). SwatComm was packed and we were
getting more and more items donated, a paint job
on the truck, and when we took her over for the
paint job, the paint and body shop, John Carpers
Auto body and Paint, the neighborhood teenage
263


youth help tape off the truck into the night.
(At that point, Mike and I went to New York in
my Search And Rescue car, previously, a squad
car it had a full complement of lights on the roof
and shields on the sides of the doors, a canine
cage and spot light on drivers side and did what
we could on the bucket brigade.
We were not supposed to be there, yet we had to
go and try to help! Once I was, warned, I would
not be able to offer CISM services, as I would be
contaminated.
As if there was a way not to be, quote,
contaminated, additionally who would people talk
to, a fellow responder who was hurting from the
same images and sounds and smells as they
experienced, or some virgin to the circumstances
wet behind the ears, I dont know what youre
talking about but it sounds real bad wannabe
264


helper?
Mike and I, signed in and drove around what
many could not, No One batted an eye, security
waived us through, I had ids hanging off my neck
and had an impressive and commanding uniform
on.
I had a loose military haircut look to me and was
on the larger size. I am not referring to the size,
many creamy donuts; sitting on your butt gets
you. Hey now, no offense to the folks in blue, or
even street clothes as many Under Covers are,
Law Enforcement is very serious business and,
regardless of some round about the belt donut
rings do exist they can still outrun the bejeezus
out of a lot of people.
Above all the graces of Gods, Matthew already
had a SWAT (Command Center) truck parked in
his driveway. Purchased for $3,500 as a possible
265


command center for S&R, Matthew had the big
monster in his driveway, ready for something. Its
35 feet long, 12 feet high, 9 feet wide, weighs 15
tons and it was prepared. It turned out to be the
only mission she would ever see with SGT.
Matthew. But what a ride. Now she is a movie
prop for of all things a New York City
Emergency Response Services. Matthew leaves a
piece of himself everywhere.
When it came to entering Ground Zero, Matthew
never had any fear other than not doing a good-
enough job. Someone might die had he not
performed correctly, he thought. But no question
- he must go.



266


On the Road to NYC
We started driving there on Thursday. The boys
were hauling ass down Route 309 to Interstate 78
when the lights on the SWAT truck started to dim.
By the symptoms were playing out, I knew the
battery was dying and the alternator was all but
blown.
I told Lance to pull off for gas and repairs. We
had a goofy experience with the gas station
owner, who was on the phone no less. Talking
with his young and pretty daughter working that
evening, she did not seem very worldly so he was
more than likely concerned for her.
I can only imagine as she relayed to him, four
men outside the glass dressed in black fatigue
pants and yellow SAR shirts. I was dressed in
black fatigue pants and black uniform top, we all
wore boots and some kind of utility belt, again
267


mine being very eye catching. He must have
spooked when Lance asked for a donation of gas
and the owner called local Police Department.
They came out, looked us over, at my IDs and
gave the all clear, ah that would be aCode 4,
Yes things do get better, as this one I accepted
and appreciated
They managed to enter a truck stop and before
they knew it, the big SWAT beast had a new
alternator, a big battery, gas and it didnt cost a
dime. They were even given free doughnuts,
coffee, everything. People knew their goal was to
get that thing to New York City.
We were on a mission, no doubt. This pulled
into a gas station and the thing will not start back
up. We got all kinds of people trying to jump-start
us. The police arrive, since we are at the gas
station with the young, pretty daughter. Was this
268


bad timing, perhaps an opportunity to make
future mutual aid contacts? Everything was
borderline truly one-way or the other; it was all
about form, confidence and image. The stickers
were brand new but the license plate came off my
pickup truck ;--) the registration did not go
through yet and the insurance was from my
pickup to boot. I invited the officers into the
truck; they saw all the food had fallen into a pile.
We had so much food in there; some tumbled out
when the doors opened. Therefore, either we
were running one hell of a good food swindle or
we were legitimate. While I was talking to the
officers, a trucker dropped his trailer, hooked up
to our system, cranks his diesel and BAM! She
started right up.
So what are a few obstacles along the way? Most
roads arent paved with perfect premises. The
boys started talking about everything under the
269


sun just for the sake of avoiding discussion of the
destination. Matthew vividly remembers going
down I-78, as youll see the WTC and New York
to the right. Now it is a different scene altogether.
One of the only folks on the road was woman
tending the toll booth and she was looking lost
and sad. A deep and soul full type of sad. We shut
down the engine, as this time we had confidence
it would light back up. (This was after the big rig
gave us a jump and we then got the new battery,
it was huge!)
We sat there and talked for a bit with her. She
had not had any time off since the planes flew
into the buildings. She could see the events unfold
from her booth. Saw the towers collapse one by
one. We just talked. It was one of many CISM
interventions in New York. It was very
comforting. She told us she felt God was with us.
270


After a few more minutes talking, I gave her a big
hug and climbed back into the beast. Once again,
BAM! The truck started right up with no problem.
From that point on, I knew we were going to be
alright, if you will.
Matthew, of course, was in pain. Thats never
been a question throughout this whole book. But
the guy wasnt necessarily going to Ground Zero
to pick up heavy objects or lift fallen cars off
people.
He was going there to be Matthew. Just as
Captain Bobo befriended the bad guys in prison,
Matthew was ready to do what it takes to help the
helpers. To calm them down, if possible,
understanding this was a scene unlike no other.
This would be no easy task.
New York City was permeated with a fear and
confusion that only someone trained to talk with
271


people and understand them can assist. Matthew
had been training for quite a while.
Lance was ecstatic about driving the ole girl
(SWATCOMM). I decided it would be great if he
drove us all around everywhere, then Lance had
his foot on the gas, hands on the steering wheel
and had just this stare in his eyes - like his body
just went into auto-pilot, not a safe auto-pilot for
him or the crew, he was driving us right into the
Jersey River.
I pulled Lance out of his seat and Mike jumped
into Lances previous throne and took over the
driving. He pulled the truck over.
I asked Lance different sorts of questions, I
needed to ascertain he knew what was happening
and where we were and that he was safe.
I had him back away from his feelings about the
272


circumstances that we needed him completely
aware and at that moment.
We arrived at the dock, I told the Sergeant we
were not there for Search and Rescue, in the
conventional sense, unless needed as such,
however, we were there for CISM, and when
needed, give us a call.
We signed in our names, all our protective
headgear on, and were ready. The Sergeant said
they needed welders/cutters, so I got on the boat.
I did not really care how I got to the pile to begin
my CISM work at this point. Whatever job
available, I was going to do it. I knew that once I
was there on the pile and the other sites, I would
find my way to doing CISM and that would have
to do. The sergeant asked if I wanted my crew to
come along, which I said, I did. For a minute I
thought the Sergeant was going to shoot me, as
273


the crew had bug eyes the moment they
understood and comprehended they were getting
on board and it was on! For moments, it was
dead silent on the boat. Then the engines kicked
in, if you do not know a tugboats power you will
not appreciate the increase in vibration and
noise. Yet there was no problem just sinking into
yourself and not hearing a damned thing. Even if
the person standing next to you is screaming their
message to you.
I was a little nervous for men with me. Even
though was taking this all very seriously I looked
calm as a pond. I knew we would be OK.
For days and days, from the Expressway-all you
could see was smoke. That was it. Thick, white
smoke and light halos from generator run
spotlights
It was eerily quiet save for the machinations
274


running those generators the halos from
spotlights lit quiet and somber. Too quiet. New
York City- damned quiet it was. Does not sound
correct even now!
Even though it was very loud, it seemed like you
could not hear a thing. We were aware we were
awake shaking the feeling it was really a
nightmare was intensely difficult.
They arrived at the supply tent to gather anything
theyd need. Knee and elbow pads, gloves,
headlamps and very few respirators, no shortage
on need though. The more they walked, the more
it seemed like a dream. Matthew wanted his crew
to have faith in his direction.
If the 9/11 scene needed anyone during these
times, Matthew was at the top of the list. He was
the pacifier of the scene - anywhere he went.
275


Looking around was unreal. You saw M*A*S*H
units, triage centers, police battalions with
shotguns - it was just like a war zone.
Mike seemed as excited as I felt. He was ready to
help wherever. He said, I havent seen anything
yet that and with that, he froze. He turned to
the left and saw true damage. It was nothing like
you have ever seen in a lifetime - ever. There
were the carcasses of great buildings that were
once standing tall and proud. And now, nothing
but desolation. The air was acrid - it burned just
to breathe. There were welders torches glowing
everywhere. I never saw so many people standing
and doing nothing, waiting to do anything and yet
there was nothing to do but wait for the debris to
be moved so they/we could sift through and, God
willing find a survivor. The rescuers stood there
seeming defeated. Everyone had tears in their
eyes. No one was talking. My back kept hurting
276


more and more but I had to deal with it. Even
today when I look back I always feel as if I did
not do enough, didnt spend enough time there,
did not talk to enough people. Ive spoken with
others who were there and they all feel the same
thing.
Mike and Matthew worked on the bucket brigade,
side by side, dumping things into five-gallon
buckets. In the beginning, the only thing they saw
was metal, which had no real definitive shape to
it. Nothing had an identity other than wires.
Everything was pulverized.
It was like a warm snow, which depicted a
snowstorm on television. There was no glass
anywhere. When the bucket brigade was given a
break, or wasnt needed at that moment, Matthew
took full advantage to begin working his magic.
Plus, by then, he really needed to stop the
277


physical stuff and work with his heart, soul and
inner-Bobo to communicate.
All I wanted to do was make sure people were
doing all right. I wanted to see if they needed
anything. At least make them feel a little better
for a bit. Maybe theyd want a cigarette or some
water. Mike and I started climbing down into the
structure. Everything was underground. It was
extremely hot - a bad hot. The smell was awful.
The construction crew tried to build a road in to
make sure no bodies were underneath before
moving big trucks over the ground. To me and all
those there, this was hallowed ground and
deserved reverence. I wouldve been amazed at
that point if we found a moving body. Mike and I
did what we could to make ourselves feel better,
like so many there. While walking around, he
found a shoe with a partial foot in it. He put it
down, put his hand in the air and waited. That
278


meant you had a find. There were times you just
couldnt tell if you found something significant.
So many times youd ask yourself if it was a towel
or flesh; rock or bone. We found pictures
sometimes. For the most part though, everything
was just smoky and wet. I try not to think what
had wet the ground.
This was a scene and experience unlike any other
for which Mike was prepared. Theres a big
difference for the watching world to view these
events and see them unfold on TV, but to stand
directly before them, engulfed in evil, is an
altogether new perspective.
Mike wanted to go home to see his family, but he
wasnt giving up on the help. Hed be back. By 6
a.m. on Saturday, they walked off the scene onto
the dead-silent boat - again, the air was somber
and quiet. They were unbelievably tired - and this
279


was just one day. Matthew couldnt get in touch
with Ali so he called her mother to assure them
everything was OK.
Daybreak was approaching as we got on the
boat. Ill never forget how alien the sun looked. It
just seemed completely out of place. I felt as if I
was being contaminated but I didnt alert anyone.
Contaminated meaning I no longer had an
objective perspective but now it was subjective.
There was so much stuff in the air. As we were
walking around the truck, this gal came up - she
was there the night before, too. She said they just
got a call that they were looking for CISM people
and she remembered that was on my badge. She
reached out and looked real close at the I.D. and
when she read CISM, she said, We need you
back there right now! There was something
about being asked to come back - it was
unbelievable.
280


This was the highest level of exhaustion Matthew
had ever felt - and thats saying a lot. So far,
Ground Zero was non-stop work with non-stop
struggle and the constant disbelief of what
surrounded was immense. Tired though he may
have been, the womans request would not go
unanswered. They needed Matthew - and thats
all it took.
Ill never forget that moment of being needed.
The night before, I bothered this lady just to get
over there. She was in charge of sending people
and she remembered me. So I went back and
signed in. There was this older guy on the boat -
a welder - from Missouri. He asked if this was my
first trip over. I told him it was a return trip. I
said, If youre concerned about bodies being
over there, there arent. Ive seen crushed cars, a
Chevy Caprice that was 18 inches high. It was
heart-wrenching. There were things falling.
281


Thats what hed encounter. I knew as time went
on, wed find bodies, though. And we did.
Matthews new friend was heading to the site to
be a welder-cutter, which they certainly needed.
He said, I suppose this will change me. He had
no idea. I replied, Youre already changed, my
friend. He asked what I do. I told him I basically
do what I just did. I talk with people. He said,
Well, God bless you for that because you got a
lot of work to do. I never saw the guy again.
When Matthew got off the boat, he was advised
to see a medic. He was ready to keep moving,
without any medical attention. They said his eyes
were totally dried from the abundance of debris
and dirt in the air.
The medics tried to make Matthew flinch.
Nothing happened. His eyes werent blinking.
282


From lack of sleep and the airs pollution, his
eyes became temporarily-permanently open.
Matthew was consuming more meds than ever.
Back pain wasnt going to conquer his time at
Ground Zero.
I got an opportunity to speak with some people
from the Church of Scientology and help them do
some counseling. I respected their beliefs and
from where they came. But that didnt apply to
real life. We role-played a bit. I wanted to be a
walking-wounded. I wanted to know what
theyll do with people who come there for help.
We got some food, sat down and just talked.
There needed to be tons of encouragement
everywhere. Just to make people know theyre
appreciated for being there.
In the later morning, Matthew and a hospital
nurse went for a walk from one plaza that was
283


still standing. This was the first time he actually
was able to personalize with someone on the
scene. They walked around - very quiet - without
being bothered.
There were people sleeping on the ground in ash-
covered sleeping bags. The brave-hearted helpers
were so exhausted that they slept in ash. Burned
out beyond exhaustion. They didnt want to be
bothered. The entire scene was taking its toll.
It was unbelievable to walk up stairs and see
giant names that have been household names for
generations, insurance companies. Fortune 500
companies now covered in dust. The windows
were gone.
The nurse Matthew was accompanying began to
cry. It was all sinking in that this is real. Matthew
took her hand and explained its how everyone
feels. He gave her a bandana that he referred to as
284


an official tear-dryer. She asked, How do you
do it? How do you stay so strong?
I said that there will be some other time for me
to decompress. For now, I have to be with people
and move along with them to survive. She felt so
ashamed for crying after only being there for a
couple of hours. People were crying everywhere.
Strong-willed, trained medical professionals. This
was something no one was ever trained for or
taught how to handle. I know why she was upset.
Everyone was upset. But Id have some other time
to fall apart.
Matthew says there was just 30 feet between
Ground Zero sinking and surviving. Manhattan
could have been a memory; a lot of New York
would have been beachfront property. He was at
the point where he couldnt think. He needed
sleep. He was hungry. As his body winded down,
285


Matthew saw others take terrible advantage of the
situation.
The cops started getting antsy and the people
were getting nervous. Cops started challenging
helpers more. I saw people stealing a lot of
things. They arrested a security guard for
stealing watches. There was a lot of looting. We
were very close to Marshal Law in New York City
I believe in the whole Nation. People were
breaking into parking meters, stealing coins.
Some broke into Police cars. Is that human
nature? There were people stealing things you
just wouldnt believe. Two or three days after I
was there, they had caught a guy stealing 20,000
tons of steel and sending it to New Jersey to be
melted down. So much was stolen. And money -
money that was supposed to be appropriated for
one thing or another, it just disappeared. MAC
machines had hundreds of thousands of dollars
286


stolen. Along with the tragedy that surrounded
us, there was a lot of bullshit there, greed
through looting, grand standing in the cameras
and television, and at the core of so many people
just primitive ugliness was developing;
Matthew went to the killing fields where
everything transpired - hed go anywhere and
everywhere just to talk to people. He believes the
terrorists won more than we lost. American has
been changed forever. If thats what they wanted,
they achieved the goal.



287


The Calmest Person on the Scene
The September 11, 2001 responders needed help
and encouragement. They needed that calming
factor; a tranquil person able to stay peaceful
among others. Ground Zero was an easy place to
lose your head. To lose sight of reality or your
sense of centeredness, consciousness.
Matthew went there for this very reason. He
knew the site needed that assistance. His next
journey had finally reached its destination. He
claims to have been the calmest person on the
scene.
And I still stand by that. On the way there, I was
preparing and trying to stay chilled. I knew once
we arrived, my job would be totally different from
others duties. When we came around the bend
and saw the destruction, it looked completely
different than the almost model-like images on
288


TV. When youre there, youre almost
insignificant. Youre a small piece on this huge
puzzle that was a complete mess. When I was
talking to people, I hate to say that the biggest
thing on my mind was my back. It was not in good
shape at all. I couldnt even think emotionally.
My back was a bad factor. I had to push through.
I was used to the pain but this was a challenge.
Matthew was surrounded by about 3,000 people
just standing - trying to figure out what they can
do. So many people were fighting to get onto the
site that some on-site workers had to be removed.
Most people probably thought Matthew was
insane. He sat legs up on a table, drinking
Gatorade, eating a Snickers.
I looked like I was crazy; like I didnt fit in with
the rest. I was trying to remain calm. Thats when
people started to come up to me. They tried to
289


feed off my relaxed energy. They needed that. A
nurse and I went for a walk. We found pictures of
people who were no longer there. People would
stop and basically just need a hug. Wed hold
each other and talk. Whatever helped at the time.
I wasnt terribly affected yet. It didnt really hit
me until I came home. Every time I came back
from New York, I felt worse and worse. Maybe I
should have just lived in New York instead of
going in spurts. There were times Id talk with
people for a while just to try and boost their
energy - make them feel happy so theyd literally
forget what was happening for a couple of
minutes. A minister from the Royal Canadian
Mounted Police said he believed I had a special
gift, which he observed. Well, thats why I was
there.
Matthew embraced the scene and became part of
it. He was training for many years for something
290


like this. He didnt know it during those times,
but this was part of the next level. He wondered
how long it would take to clean up Ground Zero.
With the help that poured in, it wouldnt take as
long as projected. It was actually completed six
months earlier than originally planned.
It was a job unlike any other. Everything took its
toll on my back, too. A chiropractor on the scene
said she could see the pain through my eyes. She
felt my vertebrae being mashed together through
my skin. But I belonged there. I believe my whole
life was preparing for those moments. It was such
an unbelievable gift to touch so many people.
Everyone there had such moroseness on his or
her faces - such sadness. So all I could do was
walk around hugging folks and shaking hands,
asking questions, talking about things not related
to the atmosphere.
291


A funeral was held for a Port Authority man who
died on the scene. At Ground Zero, his family
awaited. In close proximity, there was an officer
standing with his dog. The guy looked as if he
was ready to shoot somebody. Just an awful look.
He needs to release himself from the atmosphere,
even if for just a moment.
I said, Officer, Id like your help for a minute. I
believe you and your dog are the only ones who
can create some calmness and tranquility for
some people. In turn, I knew this would help that
officers demeanor as well. The cop perked right
up. Maybe he felt unused before - who knows? I
said, See that guy over there with the woman and
the little girl? Their family member died on the
job. It was amazing to watch the cop change that
abruptly. I know your dogs not about therapy
but since he cant be used right now for anything
else, can we borrow you two for a second? That
292


cop, as mean as he looked before, was so happy
to be productive in this. Everyone was petting the
dog and talking, feeding off each others new
energy. That was such an unbelievable moment.
That was it. That was Matthews purpose on the
scene. The scene needed it. The energy called for
it. And the people welcomed and appreciated it.
He knew he had made a difference during
September 11
th
. Hes confident that people wont
ever forget the wild man who was also the most
calm on the scene. If he wasnt asleep at 9/11, he
was wide-awake. He was there to make a
difference and thats just what he did.
Most people would agree that the world has
drastically changed since the attacks. It was the
Pearl Harbor of our generation. Our home land
was invaded, which will leave society to be
forever altered.
293


I think the worlds become a lot more cynical
since 9/11. Initially it brought out the best in
people, now it has turned into an awful thing.
Suspicious-looking persons boarding a place or
even a bus no longer remain unnoticed. So many
unique people in the world and this country how
one knows what is suspicious remains a mystery.
The battle of brother-versus-brother began on
9/11. The attacks were made out to be hopeful, as
a nation a world watched, breathing slowed even
held for a moment, could people be saved. Could
this be turned into something positive. The
images of World Trade Center employees
jumping from sky-high windows answered that
question quite clearly. A little-known secret of
9/11 is that 45 minutes after the towers crumbled,
it was a recovery mission, not a rescue mission. I
knew in my mind it is not possible, even by the
grace of God himself, could anyone survive this.
There was not even glass on the ground like
294


everything else that was obliterated it was all
powder. It was so surreal. So much was utterly
destroyed.
Even when a TV helicopter hovered overhead for
some aerial photography, people ran for their
lives - again. They thought it was yet another
attack. This was the terrorists programming.
They were succeeding. People were changed for
the better, though. There was some hope.
Matthew met a black man - somewhere around 50
years old - one with a chip on his shoulder
through life.
The guy told me, Had I known you yesterday, I
would have hated you because youre white. But
after the things Ive seen here, I have no reason
to disregard you as a person from the color of
your skin.
Theres nothing I could write that hasnt been
295


published about 9/11. Nothing. Everyone knows
the aftermath - everyone knows where he or she
was. If ever comes a time where you lose control
of where you live, where to sleep or talk, where
you drive or breathe - take a look to Old Glory
herself.
Through everything this countrys battled, she
still flies proud to represent those who gave their
lives, those whose lives were horridly stolen,
those who donated their time, and to everyone
who walks on Americas soil proud and ready to
survive - she still salutes you.
After 9/11, Matthew lost a small sense of self. It
was being on the scene that programmed his mind
to different perspectives of life. But things wont
change. He will forever be Matthew, not just for
himself, but for anyone willing to listen or is open
to change. What he did at 9/11 is what he does to
296


this day. Hes been doing it to me ever since we
met. Im having a bad day? Things arent going
too well? Feeling under the weather? Matthews
there, ready for that challenge.
I cant even count the number of times he and I
have talked on the phone and he takes the
smallest complaint I throw out or the most
minimal gripe and turns it around without being
obvious about it.
Eventually, I will be trained enough to just do this
myself. Like a self-help counselor. Then hell be
out of business. Guarantee, though. He
wouldnt mind.
More so, I just want to help people overcome
their own personal ghosts. Search and Rescue
seems to be out of reach right now and maybe
that is for a reason. Maybe I am supposed to do
something different for a while. I am ready and
297


exited to take the next step, up to the next level.
Maybe he is just supposed to be Matthew.











298


Being Continued
More than interviews. More than phone calls.
Much more than just a rough draft to some book.
Matthew enacts change and influences personal
motivation. Not only motivation to go out and do
something, but an inner-drive that makes you
believe anything is possible.
He gets inside. Moreover, thats his purpose. I
realized he had something special when we sat
for the first time on his porch, talking very
briefly, about what would become the backbone
of this book.
I realized it even more when the restaurant
managers night wasnt so bad after all and a hug
- from a complete stranger - really made a
difference. I realized it when our final interview
concluded and I realize it even more today.
299


Heres proof. Real proof. Not embellished or
fabricated whatsoever. Here is his pure influence
at work. My fianc and I were finishing up a
movie at home. The clock was nearing 10 p.m. so
thats time to start locking things up for the night.
It was mid-summer so lets check the nighttime
sky and temperature and then head back to bed.
I was outside for a second - literally a second -
when I noticed a dark shadowed figure on the
sidewalk down from our second-floor balcony. I
had no idea what this was, what he or she looked
like, what its intent was or anything of the sort.
First instinct? Get the hell inside and lock the
door. And thats exactly what I did. Within a
heartbeat. Boom! Inside and, hopefully, safe.
A little nervous, since this wasnt exactly that
way each night goes when locking up, I discretely
looked out the bedroom window to see if there
300


truly was, in fact, something out there and this
wasnt just a weird trick of the imagination.
Honey, what are you looking at? Andrea asked.
When I looked outside, the figure had moved
closer up the sidewalk. Im not sure, I said.
Theres someone out there. Hes holding
something and it looks like hes shaking.
She went to the front door, very curious. My
thoughts? Keep the door locked. Call the police.
Get someone else here. Andrea opened the door.
The figure was closer, almost at the bottom of our
steps. And she went down. Are you OK, sir?
she yelled?
Evidently, this shadowed figure had gone out for
a walk some time ago, and was drained of all his
energy. Could barely move. No strength. It was
dark and getting late. And I wanted to lock the
door and call the police?
301


Andrea understood. She didnt think twice about
it. Not a second-guess in her mind. Mark was in
his 50s. He was a former lung surgeon, an
esteemed physician, and he lived around the
corner from us. He suffered, however, from
Parkinsons disease. This disease was trying to
prevent him from getting home. We were now
stepping in to make sure this wouldnt be the
case.
Im Chris, and this is Andrea, we told him. He
felt safe. We felt safe. He needed to get home.
And this whole time, Im thinking, I wanted to
call the police? What if I was still hiding behind
the door? I had been sharing Matthews stories
with Andrea for quite some time. She knew a lot
about him. She knew his purpose and what he
would have done. But she didnt need this. This
was her instinct all along. She had it. Evidently, I
had it, too, but needed some help opening the
302


cage and letting it loose.
What would your friend have wanted you to
do? she said after the ordeal, referring to you
know who. And she was right. Mark needed help
and no one was around. Thankfully, he wasnt
completely alone. In case youre wondering, we
very slowly and carefully got him in Andreas car
and got him around the block to his home. He
was quite thankful and a little embarrassed. And
so was I.
Lock the door. Call the police. What garbage.
Andrea knew. Now I know, too. See, the world
trains you to be afraid. To turn away and it will
all disappear. To lock the door, call the police and
everything will be just fine. Matthew teaches you
not to always listen to the world. And now its
clear why.
Remember, I was just like you. Living a life, day
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to day, going to work, doing what comes
naturally.
Since then, Matthew became a factor in my life, a
true pleasure to experience. The bottom line that
surrounds him is constant motivation. Things can
always be worse. Youve heard that line. Now
live it.
People have hard lives. People have bad days.
Too many individuals commit suicide and escape
through a trap door, rather than trying to fight
their ghosts to beat the odds and continue to that
next stage. If anyone has had it bad, and was
given enough reasons to quit, its the man you
now know. And thats my simple point. They
didnt kill him, and hes stronger than ever.
Matthew Tartaglia grew up too fast. He matured
too quickly, worked too hard and fell into some
troubled days. Thats putting it mildly. Simply
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stated - he loves to live. Hes spent a good
number of years trying to find himself.
He began journeys with no destinations, all-
ending right where he is today. There are very
few regrets. There is very little he wont do for
the common man, woman or child. Living in the
quiet environment of Northeastern Pennsylvania,
each morning he kisses Ali, and every night, and
many times in between. Ali his saving grace.
She helped Matthew love again. He is a gentle
giant now, not a scary giant. If it werent for her,
he most likely wouldnt be who he is today - if
even alive at all. Shes a patient woman. And
Meeting Matthew, the girl, walked paths she
would not have done so before. Not ever before,
he had come into her life. She conveyed once,
waiting for Matthew to come in from the gym. A
common occurrence. Matthew set her free, she
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says. Though she lived life on her terms as best as
possible. She has blossomed into the woman he
needed by his side. Not always easy. At times a
little frustrating. Ali said, (These italicized words
are Alis)
For the man he is despite all he has been
through, I love him; for the man I watch him
continue to become, he blows my mind every day,
he is truly an amazing individual who inspires me
in the extreme.
That truly is a selfless statement. Matthew
appreciates it sincerely.
His son, Matthew Adam, is growing up at the
speed of light, with a proud glimmer in his
fathers eye. Matthew, the elder, doesnt wish his
life on anyone. Its been one hell of a traveled
road. Each day still spent in enormous pain. But
its the life he was given. Every one of those
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days, he spends time trying to motivate anyone
who needs it. Hell drop everything to help
someone who needs it.
Does it hurt? Like hell. Everything hurts. But
whats a little pain anymore? There are more
important things to life. For a guy who, just a few
short years ago, couldnt find a computers On
switch, he started his own Internet provider
company called Surviveall.Net. Doesnt that just
tell the story?
Matthew is asked to speak in schools to children,
to adults, to inmates and just to people with
problems. He can help a child prepare in case he
or she is lost in the woods; he can help an adult
reflect on a divorce and push through to better
times. He has even become an ordained minister
and certified as a master hypnotherapist holding
memberships in some very prestigious peer
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groups; inching closer to the man who helped
many along the way.
Its because I actually care. The greatest thing
about being alive today is I no longer consider
myself stuck by my accomplishments or failures
of yesterday. Today is a brand new day. Every
day is brand new. So is tomorrow, are you living
today or tomorrow? Today you have todaySo
live Today-today.
There are many people out there
consumed by pain.
Their consumed by lifes hardships.
I used to be that type of person.
I need them to know - you can have your
life back.
And then, theres another day.
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Afterward
It is rare that a person enters your life who has a
so profound an impact on your life that you say it
out loud. I have heard more than one person
(more than a dozen people actually) express to
my husband, Matthew that exact exclamation. If
you allow him into your life, into your heart and
your head, your life WILL change. His essence is
almost intoxicating, constantly leaving you
wanting more.
He has influenced and inspired so many people to
become the person that they want to be, to
witness is pretty amazing and always makes me
proud. He is my lighthouse, my north star. He
moves me towards the person I have always
wanted to be, but wasnt sure I could ever
achieve.
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He calms aggressive dogs, talks people on the
brink of suicide to the refuge of help, he lights the
flame of willpower in addicts that are staring at
their nemesis drug and then turns away from it.
My hope is you walk away from this book being
inspired; encouraged to be the person you have
always wanted to be. Admittedly Matthews life
has been far from perfect or ideal; he hasnt
always made what I would consider smart
choices. Yet to look at what he has done with
these choices! Time and again He has come out
on top! And so can you! I encourage you to
embrace Matthews words, embrace his life.
Never feel sorry for him or yourself, no matter
what life throws at you. Learn from everything
that has been labeled as a mistake. Find your
Inner Bobo! I found mine by meeting Matthew
and having the courage to allow him into my
heart. When I met Matthew, I was a scared, timid
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young woman. I now know myself as a strong,
courageous woman who has embraced many
previous fears and have become the professional I
wanted and dreamed of being but never imagined
that I actually could be. Although I know I had a
large part in this, I contribute a huge part of that
to the person I consider my soul mate, Matthew.
Just as I let Matthew into my heart, you can do
the same through this book. Go now and take the
messages that Matthew imparts into your being
and make him proud! He believes that people can
be the people that they want to be, the people that
the world deserves from them. Be the type of
person that helps their neighbor mow their lawn
or shovel their driveway. Be the type of person
that helps an elder to the car with their groceries
or disabled. Be a polite person to that
telemarketer that calls you in the middle of dinner
only because that is their job. Smile at that
cashier. These are the things that Matthew
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believes changes lives and embraces daily.
Believe in the underdog, support the
downtrodden. This is part of finding your inner
Bobo, or more accurately, youre inner Matthew.
Thanks for reading,
Ali