Welcome to TRB Lounge! We’re thrilled to host author Harold Phifer today, who will be unveiling tantalising excerpts from their newest masterpiece, Surviving Chaos, How I found Peace at a Beach Bar. Dive in and get an exclusive sneak peek into the intriguing world they’ve crafted in their latest work!

About the Book

Surviving Chaos, How I Found Peace at A Beach Bar

For more than fifty years, Harold Phifer’s childhood living conditions remained a secret, even from those who thought they knew him best. No one knew about his past growing up with a mother who suffered from mental illness; a greedy aunt; a mindless and spoiled older brother; an absent father.

It wasn’t until an explosion in Afghanistan that his memory was blasted back into focus. This book is the result of a long, cathartic chat with a stranger at a beach bar, where Harold finally found some peace.

You can find Surviving Chaos, How I Found Peace at A Beach Bar here:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Audible

Excerpt

The 6 Year Old Flirt

Out of nowhere, one of the twins grabbed my cap while the other delivered a blow to my head. She slapped the taste right out of my mouth. I couldn’t even feel my tongue. I spun around to face my bullies. The twins had become triplets. I couldn’t remember ever trying to drink three glasses of anything and this wouldn’t be the day to try. The girls stared at me and said, “Who the hell do you think you are?”

As I approached the twins I smiled, tipped my hat, and continued on my way. I had done the ‘big move’ just as Jerry instructed. I smiled from jawline to jawline; I was so full of myself.

The third girl disappeared. She was a mirage, a figment of my imagination; created when I was knocked senseless. I shrugged and stared back at the twins. They gave me back my cap and told me to get lost. I didn’t challenge those instructions.

So much for Jerry’s advice! I needed to create my own playbook.

Tapping Out

Once I got to know Adela, I learned she was a religious zealot. Her friends and family were of the same mindset. They always tried to ‘out-Christian’ one another. If one person said, “Praise the Lord” then the other had to top it with, “Praise the Lord and Thank you, Jesus!” Or someone would say, “Oh, help me Lord,” then a voice would say, “Help me Lord. You are an angel of mercy on high.” Or, someone would say, “Jesus carried me today,” and suddenly some- one would jump up doing the church dance while screaming, “Won’t he do it, Lord! Won’t he do it!”

Dinner at 2:00

Second, I knew Dad was concerned about my past associations. I was from the Trash Alley. It was my community. I hung out with thugs from the Frog Bottom, the Burns Bottoms, the Red Line, the S-Curve, the Sandfield, the Morning Side, and a bunch of other places that shall remain nameless. I knew all of the “Legends of the Hood”: Sin Man, Swap, Boo Boo, Emp-Man, Cookie Man, Shank, Polar Bear, Bae Willy, Bae 

Bruh, Skullhead Ned, Pimp, Crunch, and Goat Turd (just to name a few). I thought maybe Dad had summoned me as a “show and tell” for the kids in his neighborhood—the hardliner to scare those wayward suburban brats back into reality.

About The Author

Harold Phifer

Harold Phifer was born and raised in Columbus, Mississippi. All of his first 25 years were solidly spent inside his home state. After graduating from Mississippi State University and Jackson State University, he went on to work for the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) for 23 years as an Air Traffic Controller. He left the FAA and began work as an International Contractor, where he has done numerous tours in Iraq and Afghanistan.

You can find author Phifer here:
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