My brother, Dave and I in the Orphanage
As a Veteran myself, this has always been a special day of remembrance for me. However this year I would like to pay tribute to my brother David, the recipient of the Bronze star for his extraordinary service during the most horrific years of the Vietnam war. He writes here about an incident that changed his life forever as he held the hand of a dying soldier. Dave and I were inseparable during the first decade of our lives as we moved about through a series of foster homes. I honor you, my brother, on this day where we all convey our deepest gratitude for those who served so valiantly…I love you Dave, and I salute you on this very special day.
Wayne Dyer Continue Reading
I Can See Clearly Now—The Long-Awaited Memoir from Dr. Wayne Dyer
In this revealing and engaging book, Wayne shares dozens of events from his life, from the time he was a little boy in Detroit up to present day. In unflinching detail, he relates his vivid impressions of encountering many forks in the road, taking readers with him into these formative experiences. Yet then he views the events from his current perspective, noting what lessons he ultimately learned, as well as how he has made the resulting wisdom available to millions via his lifelong dedication to service.
Read the full review of Wayne’s new book, I Can See Clearly Now.
In the early 1950s, we lived in a small duplex at 20217 Moross Road on the east side of Detroit—me, Mom, my two older brothers, and our new stepfather, Bill. My beloved mother had finally succeeded in getting her family back together under one roof. And on that roof was a glorious TV antenna that did its best to bring in reception depending on how the winds blew. We were the fortunate owners of a small black-and-white Admiral television set, the first in our neighborhood. Of course, my twelve-year-old self was entranced with this amazing new machine.
Even in those early days, TV programmers were already vying for audiences, and on Tuesday nights at 8:00, most of the country tuned in to watch comedian Milton Berle. Not our family, however. My stepfather insisted that we watch Life Is Worth Living with Bishop Fulton Sheen, formerly the host of The Catholic Hour on night-time radio. My friends might all be sharing jokes from “Uncle Miltie” the next day, but I became a devoted fan of Bishop Sheen. I watched Life Is Worth Living intently and even took notes! Continue Reading
This November I have a speaking engagement at historic Cobo Center in my native city of Detroit, Michigan. You’ve heard me talk about my early years growing up in the Detroit area—from the foster homes to the university. Forty-two years ago, when Cobo Center was called Cobo Hall, I received my doctorate from Wayne State University in this same downtown events center on the banks of the Detroit River. Even though I was born in Detroit and used to tell my kids that Wayne State was named after me, I’m really only a humble observer of this great American city.
Albert Cobo, who gave his name to the center where I’ll be speaking, was mayor of Detroit when I was a kid. One of my first jobs was distributing flyers about Albert Cobo to the houses in my neighborhood. As for Wayne State University and Wayne County where Detroit is located, both were named for the Revolutionary War general known as “Mad Anthony” Wayne. My kids actually believed Continue Reading
There’s a new book in the family and I love it dearly. My big brother Dave has written a heartfelt and healing memoir that begins with our early childhood together and carries him into the present day. From Darkness to Light is filled with discoveries and insights, sorrows and triumphs. Dave decided not to “die with his music still in him” by waking up the writing gift he had long suppressed. Here’s a summer memory from our childhood that I hope you will enjoy as much as I have:
“While living in foster care in Mt. Clemens, Michigan, Wayne and I didn’t get to see Mother or our older brother Jim very often—certainly not often enough. One reason was that Mother didn’t drive and had no way of getting to us. The separation of our family tore at her heart. Mother worked at Chrysler, earning the typical female wage for whatever job she was doing. In those days, men made almost double the wages paid to females for the same job. My mother’s greatest wish was to somehow reunite her family again. With this in mind, she finally decided to marry Bill Drury, a fellow she’d been dating for a couple of years.
Bill’s mother Cora owned a cottage in Sombra, Ontario. I remember all of us going there in the summer of 1948. For Wayne and me, it was as if we were visiting some kind of Fantasy Island. We’d swim, fish, play baseball, listen to ballgames on the radio, and even learn to play pinochle.
Jim and Wayne seemed able to swim right away, but it didn’t come easy for me. Continue Reading