Outskirts Press, INC.

Code Name: Apollo shows the strength of a woman who fights to discover her hidden identity; A secret people had taken to their graves involving a Presidents life and assassination will be uncovered for the first time.

A true story told from my perception of things that happened in my life. I now live a quite life surrounded by my children and yes my animals. The one good thing about those years, it opened my eyes. My mother, husband and the Navy controlled me. I was a childlike naive woman who believed everyone was good and everything I seen and heard was the truth. It was so easy for people to deceive and trick me. Someone powerful seen a woman who was brainwashed and they physically shook me awake. And I fought them by crying, screaming and fighting but they continued their crusade to open my mind. It was an emotional time that almost destroyed me but instead it led me to the truth. What is the truth you ask: The truth as I see it, someone powerful felt the need to brainwash a young girl and woman, to keep her in the dark.. Now that I think back to that time, I realize it changed me instead of being extremely reckless, I became suspicious of everyone and I seen the danger in my actions. The fun faded and I never again felt the excitement of flirting, dancing and enjoying those moments of risky adventure.

My green emotionless eyes stared into the barrel of a handgun, bleached golden blonde hair stuck to my head from sweat. Terrified thoughts raced as my heart beats fast, 38 years old, July 1987 and this moment could be the last second of my life, I shook from total shock and exhaustion, Red should be at work, why was he at home waiting for me and where in the hell did he get a gun?

Red my husbands of twenty two years screams, I’m going to kill you, where have you been all night. His words echoed thru out our bedroom, while his finger moved to the trigger. I looked into my tired husbands cold eyes as words spewed from his mouth but all I heard was the pounding in my head. How could Red be jealous and upset, this had been going on for years, he had his life and I mine.

Red came toward me, I backed up expecting him to knock me to the ground and beat me black and blue, but he just came closer with the gun. I could not handle my life anymore, the gun had forced me to face my insane, spinning out of control life, silently I told myself, Shirley just die, get it over with, your going insane, no one will tell me what is going on. My husband refuses to listen to anything I say and now all of a sudden he cares about what time I come home.

How could I expect Red or for that fact anyone to understand when I didn’t know how to explain, this attention from the media. Everyone could understand, if the media put cameras in front of my face and talked to me but this is crazy, they are talking to me from my television, trying to tell me something. Who do these people think I am, and does anyone care what is happening to me?

My life had become a nightmare and I knew right at that split second, I wanted to die, I looked into my husbands eyes, the man I had promised to love till death do us part, “Go ahead kill me, I deserve it, I do not want to live, go ahead” I stood still and closed my eyes. Red paced back and forth in front of me while screaming. I repeated once again” I want to die, kill me” Death would be a relief…
A thought flashed into my mind, my obituary would read Shirley Anne Moore died from a gun shot wound inflicted by her husband. She leaves three children and she died depressed, crazy, and friendless.

Red pulled the trigger, but nothing happened, he pushed me down on the bed and raced out the door. I did not feel relief, just the dread of having to face another day of confusion. That night could have been the end of my life. How had I got to this point of desperation, believing death was the only answer. This was the end of my marriage and life as I knew it. I did not lose my life on that night, but everything I ever owned would be lost. My identity would be ripped away, I did not know who I was, and the powerful rich people who could help me refuse to admit I exist.

What does anyone know about their birth, except what we are told, however times have changed, these days video cameras are inside the delivery room documenting the painful but exciting event. Everything I learned about my birth and childhood came from my favorite grandma, Erma Kennedy Young, born December, 1912. Grandma Erma, my mama’s mother, dyed her hair jet-black, and her flawless makeup made her look younger than her age. Grandma, made her living selling used clothes in Plant City, Florida. She also cut the cloth into strips, and sold the bundled material as cleaning rags.

Grandma’s favorite saying was, “One person’s trash is another’s treasure.”

Grandma Kennedy, as I called her, never hesitated to tell me the truth, she gave the following description of my birth. Your mama, Lucile Jeanette’s silky, dark-brown hair glistened from perspiration, as she screamed from labor pains. Lucy prayed for a baby girl to dress up in cute clothes, much like a baby doll. Lucy’s slate-gray eyes showed exhaustion, yet happiness, after her tiny baby girl came into the world. She named her little 5 lb, 5 oz baby, Shirley. That baby girl is me, Lucile’s child,secret service Code Name: Apollo.
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The old Testament, Book of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven-A time to give birth, and a time to die; A time to plant, and a time to uproot what is planted. A time to kill, and a time to heal; A time to tear down, and a time to build up. A time to weep, and a time to laugh; A time to mourn, and a time to dance. A time to throw stones, and a time to gather stones; A time to embrace, and a time to shun embracing. A time to search, and a time to give up as lost; A time to keep, and a time to throw away. A time to tear apart, and a time to sew together; A time to be silent, and a time to speak. A time to love, and a time to hate; A time for war, and a time for peace.