Wednesday, November 18, 2009

The Pride of Park Avenue in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch

Jane Henderson, book editor at the STL Post-Dispatch, showed me mad love on the stltoday.com website.
http://bit.ly/3NrMBe/

Conversation and Cocktails, Part II: The South City Edition - Celebrating the One-Year Anniversary of The Pride of Park Avenue was a smash


Family, friends and fans all came out to the Carpenter Library on Tuesday and had a grand old time. Afterwords we headed over to Absolutli Goosed on South Grand and got...well...absolutely goosed!!!

Thursday, November 5, 2009

MY GOAL: DEBUT MY NEW BOOK AT THE 2010 BIG READ FESTIVAL


I had such a wonderful time this year at the Big Read Festival, I have set a goal. Next year, I want to be invited back as a featured author and debut my new book Circa 1985. Mark it down here!

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Conversation and Cocktails, Part II: The South City Edition - Celebrating the One-Year Anniversary of The Pride of Park Avenue


Authors @ Your Library Presents Toriano Porter

Come help celebrate the one-year anniversary of The Pride of Park Avenue. Toriano Porter will discuss and sign his first published book, The Pride of Park Avenue, a collection of emotionally charged personal essays about life, loss and pain and coming-of-age short stories centered on the pursuit of the American Dream. Born and raised in South St. Louis, Toriano Porter is currently a news reporter with the Examiner news paper in Independence, Missouri. His work has appeared in publications such as the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Riverfront Times, Kansas City Pitch, inBox Magazine and the Houston Press. The author and former minor league football All-American for the St. Louis Bulldogs will be @ the Carpenter Branch library, 3309 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis, MO 63118 on Tuesday, November 17 from 7 to 8 p.m. Books will be available for sale.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Conversation and Cocktails, Part II: The South City Edition - Celebrating the One-Year Anniversary of The Pride of Park Avenue


The St. Louis Public Library's Carpenter Branch at 3309 South Grand is hosting a book signing for The Pride of Park Avenue, Tuesday, Nov. 17 from 7 to 8 p.m. From 8 to 10 p.m. Absolutli Goosed at 3196 South Grand is the official social spot for Conversation and Cocktails, Part II: The South City Edition - Celebrating the One-Year Anniversary of The Pride of Park Avenue. The book came out Nov. 18, 2008 and has been going strong since. Let's celebrate the release of an instant literary classic.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

SOUTH GRAND AIN'T READY FOR ME!!!


Conversation and Cocktails, Part II: The Southside Edition, Celebrating the One-Year Anniversary of The Pride of Park Avenue...Coming in November...South Grand ain't gonna ever be the same!!!

Monday, August 17, 2009

More Reader Feedback For The Pride of Park Avenue


"The Pride of Park Avenue," is intense, tragic, filled with misery, but you refused to succumb to your environment. This book seems like it could be fiction, all while exposing the truth of growing up in what many call, 'urban America.' I would definitely recommend this book to people from all walks of life. You are an intriguing author. It took a while for me to read it but once I started I couldn't put it down.

The primary characters, as well as the secondary characters, are all well developed. What really made this story stand out was the character and story development. The characters held my interest and intrigued me to want to continue the book to see what will happen. Love, sex, and drugs are always a deadly combination.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The Best Compliment Ever on The Pride of Park Avenue


This my have been the best compliment I have received on The Pride of Park Avenue thus far!

From a reader: "this kid has skills, I' ve never seen definition of the 'hood this intense."

Monday, August 3, 2009

Conversation and Cocktails: An Evening with Journalist and Author Toriano Porter


The Pride of Park Avenue is going upscale this Sunday for Conversation and Cocktails: An Evening with Journalist and Author Toriano Porter from 4 to 6 p.m. at The Glass Olive in Oakville, 6348 Telegraph Road. Prize give-aways, gift baskets and a raffle to raise funds for the children of Rory L. Watkins (1974-2008).


Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The City of No Luv, Part II


….reprinted from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch March 13, 1997
VIOLENT DEATHS: North St. Louis County: Antonio Wadlington, 21, was found stabbed to death about 4 a.m. Wednesday in his home in the 9600 block of Jacobi Avenue in the Castlepoint area of North County. Wadlington's body was found by his girlfriend as she returned home from work. Robbery did not appear to be the prime motive.--Copyright 1997 St. Louis Post-Dispatch

“That’s my boy, that’s my boy,” an excited Antonio “Tony” Wadlington said to me while catching a glimpse of an ESPN Thursday Night football game.

The University of Tennessee was making one of their many national television appearances that 1995 season and Tony was stoked about the plays his friend and former Coffeyville Community College teammate, Leonard Little, was making for the Volunteers. “Look at him. That nigga’s a beast, I’m telling you.”

Seems Tony and old Leonard were buddies at the two-year school in Kansas prior to their stints at traditional four-year educational posts. Tony enrolled to play football at Coffeyville in the fall of 1994. He had just finished his senior year at Berkeley High School, where the St. Louis Suburban Journals named him their athlete of the year for his exploits in football, basketball and track during the 1993-94 school campaign. His plan was to attend Coffeyville for one year before he enrolled at Central Missouri State the following year.

Football coaches at CMSU had recruited Tony tough throughout his senior year at Berkeley. They liked his athleticism and toughness. The trash talking left a little to be desired. When it was time for Tony to take his recruiting trip to Warrensburg, the top brass at CMSU made me his recruiting host. My job was to make sure he had a good time and sell the university and its football program as a place to be.

CMSU wasn’t a bad place to be in the early nineties if partying and bullshitting were the focal point. In terms of the football program, the Mules had fallen slightly off the top perch of the Mid-America (then Mid-Missouri) Athletic Association despite winning or sharing three MIAA championships from 1987-89. Still, the Mule Mystique reigned, so I figured the best way to get a an athlete the caliber of Tony Wadlington to sign with the Mules was to show him a good time in the humble city of Warrensburg.

To be honest, much of Tony’s recruiting trip is a blur to me. I mean, I know we were prohibited by laws, rules and morals, but we—meaning—me, a few teammates, a couple of my roommates and a host of recruits—got pissy drunk, super high and chased a few skirts at an on-campus party. Tony excused himself once to go hurl, but other than that, a good time was had by all. CMSU had their man as Tony pledged his non-binding verbal agreement the day after the boozed-out, drug-fueled party crashing ordeal.

By the time I ran into Tony again--some six months later--things had changed. For starters, I had gotten expelled from CMSU because of bad grades and behavior issues and Tony was headed to Coffeyville for an abbreviated stop to work on his grades for NCAA eligibility before heading off to Warrensburg.

“Tony!” I screamed thru the thunderous beat of loud, angst-filled hip-hop music at The Palace Skating Rink, circa August 1994. “What’s up, dawg? What’s up with you?”

“Who that?” a sly looking Tony said, filtering through the well-wishes, glad-hands and back-pats reserved for athletes of his stature. “Who that?”

“Tory, nigga,” I deadpanned. “Tory Porter from Central Missouri State. I was your recruiting host.”

“Ahh, what’s up, T.” he shot back, laughing at the obvious mention of CMSU and his infamous up-chuck incident. “What’s good with it, homeboy?”

“Nothing, chilling,” I coolly countered. “What’s up with you?”

“Man, nothing--just chilling with a couple of my homeboys.”

“So, what’s up, you still going to Central?”

“Yeah, I’m going. I gotta go to juco first, but I’m still going.”

“Aw yeah? What juco you going to.”

“Coffeyville. It’s in Kansas.”

“Nigga, I know where Coffeyville at. They be sending hella cats D-I, though.

“Yeah, man, I know, but I’m still coming up there.”

“You know, I ain’t going back to Central either this year.”

“Oh yeah? Why not.”

“Grades. Motherfuckas sent me back here on the first thang smokin’. But it’s all good, though, I might go back next year.

“Aww T, you gotta make it happen, dirty. You one of the reasons I even wanna go up there”

“No doubt, no doubt—but, look, I’ma let you get back to yo’ people. I’ma catch you before you leave and grab yo’ number.”

“Aw’ight, dirty. Be peaceful.”

“Aw’ight, be peaceful.”

True to his word, Tony enrolled at CMSU in the fall of 1995, a year after attending Coffeyville. I spent the 1994-95 academic year getting my ship in order at Harris-Stowe State College (now University) in St. Louis and Jefferson Junior College in Hillsboro, Missouri. Neither of those schools had football programs.

I re-enrolled at CMSU the summer of 1995. When two-a-day practices rolled around in August, Tony was there indeed. The bond was forged. The friendship solidified.

“I told ya’ll niggas, my nigga is a beast,” Tony said, continuing his Thursday night pro-Leonard Little tirade. We were on a fifteen minute break from the mandatory study hall implemented by the CMSU football staff and administration. Tony spent at least ten of those minutes big-upping Leonard Little and their Coffeyville days together.

“He going to the league,” Tony proudly stated about the football tackling machine sporting the #1 orange Volunteer jersey. “I’m telling you, my nigga going to the league.” Little, of course, wound up a Pro Bowl defensive end for the St. Louis Rams.

Tony had a pretty decent season for the Mules in ’95. I had to sit out again that season because of transfer issues—essentially red-shirting for the second time in my three-year Mules’ career, which up to that point had spanned several big play practices, outstanding inter-squad scrimmages, grueling off-season workouts, devastating school expulsions, dream smashing athletic ineligibility and dire second chance opportunities. Everything except actual game day competition.

I enjoyed watching Tony’s attempts to become a regular contributor at wide receiver for the Mules. Although he wasn’t a standout gridiron performer, Tony flashed enough big-play potential that Coach Terry Noland and staff entrusted him to handle punt and kick return duties in ’95. He did a somewhat modest job on kickoff returns, but those punt returns were merely adventures. True he had speed to burn, but those hands were a bit unsteady fielding the rock.

Tony was disappointed he didn’t do more on the field for the Mules and his grades suffered. At the end of the 1995-1996 academic year Tony Wadlington was out of a scholarship and back home living with his mother in Berkeley, Missouri.

During the summer of 1996, Tony made several trips to Warrensburg to visit friends and teammates. He usually stayed with me and my roommates in the three-bedroom apartment we shared off-campus. The gatherings consisted mainly of a lot of basketball, booze and bud. From time to time I would coyly slide in the conversations the fact I too lost my MuleBall scholarship in 1992, got sent home in 1994 and came back in 1995.

Tony often talked about going to Flo Valley Community College to get his grades up. He wanted to re-enroll at CMSU for spring semester 1997--go through the rigors of winter workouts and spring ball to earn his scholarship back. He promised he would attend all Mule home games in ’96 to show support for both me and the program. I just so happened to get on a game day college field for the first time in ’96.

A strange thing happened that 1996 season. Our head coach, Coach Noland was told he wasn’t going to be retained after the season—a season that saw the Mules post the second of back to back four win seasons. There were three games left when CMSU athletic director Jerry Hughes broke the news to Coach Noland.
Noland, a coach at CMSU for 14 seasons and owner of three MIAA championship rings, was floored. He abruptly left his position rather than coach the last three games as a ‘lame duck’ coach. Defensive coordinator Jeff Floyd finished the season coaching the Mules.

Coach Noland’s departure created a mini-lull in the Mules’ football program prior to the spring semester of 1997. Although new head coach Willie Fritz was bringing with him to CMSU a proven resume—his previous team at Blinn Junior College in Brenham, Texas had just won back to back national JUCO titles by going a combined 22-0 in 1995 and 1996—he had no clue about Tony Wadlington or his desire to return to CMSU.

Caught in between the pinch, Tony decided to stay in the St. Louis area for the spring ’97 semester as well. Tony’s plan was to re-enroll at Central for summer school after the semester ended and compete for time during summer workouts in Warrensburg.

Things were looking up for the Mules early in 1997. The effervescent Fritz had just got to town with him an impressive array of talented JUCO performers who helped him win those two national championships at Blinn.

For me, I used the opportunity to learn from a coach who had put several players in the NFL. For Tony, it made him wish he was still in the ‘Burg.

All in all, I was Tony’s inside man on the new coach and I was the new coach’s unwitting recruiter, constantly lecturing to Tony about why he needed to return to CMSU to play under Fritz.

I was on my way to another one of Fritz’ invigorating winter workouts prior to spring practice when one of Tony’s former freshmen cohorts at Central, Durand McNutt, ran up to me outside of the football offices. He delivered a crushing bit of news.

“T.P., you heard about the homeboy?” Durand said, barely audible through his grief stricken speech.

“What homeboy?” I fringed, “what’chu talking about?”

“Tony, man,” Durand informed, “they found him last night dead, man. He was all stabbed up and shit.”

“What!” I beckoned, damn near letting the knee buckling news take me down to the ground. “Dawg, don’t tell me that.”

Durand went on to provide the few details he knew of the circumstances behind Tony’s brutal murder. He left me with the telephone number to his good friend Zell, who had attended both Berkeley High and CMSU with Tony. I immediately went to Fritz and his staff with the news. They obliged my request to take the rest of the afternoon off. The gesture meant a lot to me for I never really got a chance to completely sell Fritz on Tony.

Zell basically told me Tony had been the victim of a botched robbery in the one-bedroom apartment Tony shared with his girlfriend in the Castle Point neighborhood of North St. Louis County. The intruders had tied Tony up, Zell informed, stabbed him several times and shot him in the head.

“Look, T.P.,” Zell advised through the long-distance phone call from Warrensburg to St. Louis. “I’ma holla at Tony’s old gal and see when the funeral is and I’ma call you and let you know.”

“Damn dirty, that’s fucked up,” I petitioned to Zell.

“I know, T.P.” Zell countered. “But I’ma find out what’s good and hit you back.”

“Aw’ight. One.”

“One.”

Zell called me back a somber day and a half later with even more distressing news.

“Hey, T.P.,” Zell spilled, “look, man you might as well don’t even come to St. Louis, dawg. Tony’s old gal, she hurting dawg. She ain’t even having a funeral from him, dirty. She just gon’ cremate his body and have a lil’ sumthin’ for him.”

I can’t summon, or for one instant, imagine the pain of burying a son, so I completely understood Tony’s mother’s decision. I just wished I would have gotten a chance to tell her how important her son was to a lot of people. I wanted her to know how his charm, wit and athleticism impacted a diverse amount of people.

I wanted to tell her sorry for being the cohort who entertained those girls with booze and bud in their house in Berkley that weekend in July ‘96 when she went out of town with her husband. Damn, Tony Wad--we had a ball that day man, we had a ball. We ran through a half-ounce of bud, downed a fifth of Hennessey and watched your girlfriend and her cousin on leave from the military fight our two female friends from Central. I’ll never forget that day, dude, and you’ll never be forgotten.

See you when I get there.

…reprinted from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch May 30, 1994…
CHEERS, TEARS MARK DAY OF SUPERLATIVES AND BIT OF SADNESS
By Kevin E. Boone of the Post-Dispatch
…Saturday was a day for track and field superlatives: Most Starry-eyed: Berkeley freshman Terrell Brown ran legs on the triumphant 4x100- and 4x400-meter relay teams… "It was my dream to run on a state-championship team and to run on the same (4x100) relay team with (senior) Tony Wadlington. He's my idol."--Copyright 1994 St. Louis Post-Dispatch

Friday, June 26, 2009

Butterflies by Toriano Porter


The following story is from the book The Pride of Park Avenue by Toriano Porter


"All you got to do is walk away and pass me by. Don't acknowledge my smile when I try to say hello to you. And all you gotta do is not answer my call when I'm trying to get through. Keep me wondering why, when all I can do is sigh..." - from the single 'Butterflies' by Michael Jackson


Butterflies

For the life of me, I honestly cannot remember this young lady's name - Tabitha or Tamika or something or another - but she gave me the most exhilarating, yet unsettled nervous, feeling I had ever known. At least since grade school, anyway.

I had met her in the early part of 2001. I know it was early 2001 because I was still working at Harold Pener's Man of Fashion store at Northwest Plaza in suburban St. Louis. The young lady had come into the store wearing the coolest Vokal letterwinner's jacket on the market.

Initially, I was just going to do my job, greet her and her company and asked them, her specifically, if my help was needed. Instead, I went into full-fledged 'Mack-Daddy' mode.

"Hello," I suavely said, "welcome to Pener's Menswear. Let me know if you guys need any help today." Before I could finish my sentence, my thoughts went immediately to the next line of questioning.

"Damn, that's a nice letterman's jacket you got thurr, baby girl," I said to my temporary object of desire. "Whurr you find that?"

She was short by a woman's standard, petite and cute as a button. She had banana-colored, reddish skin, jet black her, a wonderful smile and seemed to be the sweetest thing on earth. I couldn't tell what her body looked like because of the letterwinner's jacket and sweatpants, but my boy Nose would later observe she had a body 'like a 12-year-old boy.' To this day, I still don't know what he meant.

"Oh, my friend Yomi made it for me," the honey-baked scarlet said. "Why?" she blissfully continued, "you like it?"

"Hell yeah," I managed, "that mug is hot. I want me one."

"I'm pretty sure you could probably get one made," she replied. "Yomi takes custom orders. He'll make one for you."

"You got a number on dude?" I asked. "I want to put my order in. You think he'll make me one?"

"I'm sure he would," she reasoned. "Give me a pen and a piece of paper. I'll give you his number."

"He ain't gonna be tripping, is he," I countered, knowing full well St. Louis cats act a fool when random people call their line.

"No. Yomi's a business man," she assured. "He's mad cool. Just tell him I gave you his number and you guys can go from there."

After exchange a few more pleasantries, a couple trips around the store and some hobnobbing, the cutie-pie asked me my name again.

"For real?", she affirmed. No way. You and my boyfriend have the same name. No way."

Before she and her comrades left the store, I asked the inevitable, "what's poppin' tonight?"

She told me about a grand-opening party at Downtown St. Louis' newest hot spot on Washington Avenue. The party, she said, was going to be off the radar screen.

"I'm thurr," I said. Excited, I continued. I'ma look for 'ya, aw'ight? Don't tell me no when I ask for a dance either."

She flashed her pearly whites at me before heading out the store.

"I won't," she promised.

That night, I hooked up with my homeboy I played football and baseball with back in high school. Big Tone and I planned to hit the new spot together, but we both passed out around midnight on an over abundance of Belvedere Vodka mixed with crushed ice and cranberry juice and high quality herb we both had scored from our respective sources. By the time I came to, it was 2:30 in the morning. Quite naturally, the shindig was over. Damn, that was some good bud we smoked, I thought.

"Big Tone," I squealed as a gather my things from Big Tone's room at the family's home in East St. Louis home. We had met on Park Avenue in South St. Louis after Big Tone had gotten off work at the sporting goods store his family owned, carpooled across the Popular Street Bridge and stop at my homie's crib so that he could get fresh and clean, boozing and drugging it up all the while. "Man, I had something hot waiting on me at the club. Damn. We missed the whole mutherfucking thang."

Over the next few weeks, I tried everything in my power to get home girl on my team. I mean, I used to see her at all the hip-hop functions--the Spotlight niteclub, Nelly shows, parties and concerts, celebrity-filled basketball games at Mathews-Dickey Boys and Girls Club and Washington University and more. We'd talk briefly on the phone, but never about any substantial. She always had an excuse for us not to hook up and chill. I didn't trip on it though. I wanted her and I wasn't going to be deterred by a little game of 'cat and mouse', you know?

I mean, the few times we did run into each other after meeting, she was always cordial and polite, prompting those nervous little bubbles in the pit of my gut like some young school boy scarred to make a move on a girl he liked. It never failed. Don't know why, but the girl made me feel funny inside. A good funny, though.

Anyhow, to make a long story short, baby girl had this hold on me for at least three months and we never dated. Not once. No dinner, no movie, no trips to the Zoo, Science Center or nothing. Just chance meetings in public. I still dug the shit out of her.

One night I was - to borrow a phrase - out and about town. I had heard on the radio that a rapper with a hit song produced by Dr. Dre was going to be at the Spotlight. At that point, baby girl was the furthest

thing from my mind, but was one of the first people I saw upon entry into the club. Her and a few friends were promoting a future show or what not when I saw her. Those same butterfly feelings took root. I hadn't seen her for awhile, but I was amazed those feelings of admiration were still inside me.

I was super cool in my approach. "What's up, baby girl," I said rather confidently, "you remember me?"

I just knew it was going to be all good between us that night. I just knew. Within seconds after saying hello, her transparent look through me was obvious.

"Oh my God, Oh my God," she screamed, fanning herself with her promotional fliers. "It's...it's...it's Knocturnal! Oh my God!."

Knocturnal?, I thought. That fool has one hit on the radio and this girl is acting like she just seen Jay-Z or Puff Daddy or somebody. Knocturnal, though?

"That's what you get," Nose told me later. "I told you, dude, that broad wasn't for you."

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Reader Feedback on The Pride of Park Avenue


"T.P. the book tight.. well written. I started reading and couldn't put it down. You represented the people that are not here anymore very well...You gave them a voice...just not another body count.....RIP JuJu and Nose... your book tells the good the bad and the ugly about life. But it was and is you're truth...this is a inspirational story.... man you even had that dued they call Big Tone in there for a sec...LOL...congrats in keep pushing this peice of work...I just remember you telling me you was writing a book years ago T.P. and its real now......waiting on the next one" - Antonio Hoskins, former classmate and baseball teammate at Eureka High and the Squad One Sports Black Sox

Friday, June 19, 2009

Happy Born on Day Rory L. Watkins...You Are Truly Missed



...reprinted from the St. Louis Post Dispatch February 25, 2008....

St. Louis city police have identified the victims of the latest two homicides...

In a homicide from Friday, police say, Rory Watkins was shot several times in the head as he sat in a car in the 4100 block of West Lee Avenue.

Police say Watkins was sitting in a car when he was shot about 10:45 a.m. Friday.

Witnesses told police they heard three gunshots and saw a man run away.—Copyright 2008 St. Louis Post-Dispatch

SHED SO MANY TEARS, PART III
from the book, The Pride of Park Avenue by Toriano Porter featuring Rory L. Watkins

My Homie. My partner. My best friend. My brother is gone.

When I got the word that my best friend of nearly 23 years was gunned down in cold blood in the streets of St. Louis, I was devastated. It was and always will be the saddest day of my life.

I mean, damn, me and my dude had so much we wanted to do with this writing. He had all these wonderful tales he wanted to share and I wanted to help him share them.

I’m dedicated to that mission. Every time I sit down to write, I’m dedicating it to the realest brother I have ever known, Rory L. Watkins, forever and always known as O.G. Nose from Laclede Town’s Lawton Block.

A father of three, a friend of many and one of a kind, I met my dude the fi rst day of our 6th grade year and we have been partners in crime, brothers at arms and kindred spirits since. We will survive.

Nose, your memory lives on. I could not, for the life of me, muster the strength or the courage to write your eulogy, bro. The pain is still fresh. You are gone and it hurts too bad.

Know that I love you, I miss you and I pray everyday for your spirit to protect me and guide me as it did when you were here. You are truly one of my guardian angels.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Headed South For The Week...

For the third consecutive summer, my boy Nite Owl and I are headed down south for summer vacation...For the second straight year, we are going to hit up Atlanta, then head on in to Augusta, GA and back to the ATL on the return trip to St. Louis. It should be fun. This year, for the first time, I will have a product to promote; The Pride of Park Avenue....

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

The People Have Spoken and This Is What They Are Saying About The Pride of Park Avenue

Testimonials for The Pride of Park Avenue

 

"I just finished your book; thanks for opening up your world (and your heart) to everyone who reads this amazing book. I found The Pride of Park Avenue intriguing, inspirational, and well written."- Jennifer Krassinger, former high school classmate, Eureka High School, class of 1992


"So I finished your book- easy reading, extremely inspirational, leaves you wanting the next chapter. When's the next one coming out?" - Dani Clift, former high school classmate, Eureka High School, class of 1992

"I just got the book yesterday and finished it last night (about 5 hours after receiving it!!). It was so well written and easy to read, I could not put it down. Great work! You schooled me on a few things."- Melody McIntyre, former schoolmate, Eureka High

"I just wanted to let you know that I already read the entire book and I think that it is great!! I couldn't put it down!! You did such a good job with it." - Ayanna Hightower, former schoolmate, University of Central Missouri

"I'm liking what I've read thus far. I've never read anything like it." - Dale Brendel, Executive Editor, Independence Examiner (my boss!!!)

"The book is really, really good but at the same time disturbing. My life has been blessed compared to what you've been through and you're a miracle in yourself for having lived through all of this and come out the other side not only all in one piece but, well, an amazing person because of it and in spite of it. You're a true inspiration and I hope you'll use this life you've had to inspire others." - Ginger Kuftack, co-worker, Independence Examiner

OTHER FEEDBACK INCLUDES:

"The Pride of Park Avenue, a complex, yet remarkable tribute to a community and the individuals that compose it. It's real life; sex, violence, drugs, humor and pathos. The characters and setting are memorable, and the style varied and immediate."--R.M. Kinder, author, An Absolute Gentleman
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"Much like a war correspondent, Porter escorts the reader into a world otherwise forbidden and largely unknown by Middle Class Americans. His use of authentic street language, vivid characterization and compelling plots is reminiscent of James Baldwin and Langston Hughes. Porter’s work is indeed remarkable ­– a credible update on today’s Street Corner USA – and a welcome contribution to 21st century American literature." ----Rhiannon Ross, American writer and journalist
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“Okay. Wow. I loved it. I think you are an excellent writer, and you’re ability to recount conversations with raw, real talk and slang in a way that flows to the reader is excellent. I can say this; I didn’t want it to end. I kept scrolling down at the end to see where the next chapter was. If I could sum up your stories in a single word: resilience.” –Amy Brown Gander, youth counselor, Youth In Need