In the bustling city of Cleveland, Ohio, in 1958, I entered this world as the second child of a single parent, my mother. My elder sister, Denise, had one more connection to our family—a man named Donald “Ducky” Moore. However, as a young boy, I began to sense that there was something not quite right about our family dynamics. It wasn’t just the whispers and the hushed conversations that set me on this path of questioning; it was something deeper, something more profound. It was the contrast in our appearances, most notably my fair skin.
Ducky Moore had fathered other children, with different mothers, who fell between the age of my sister and me. These complexities were difficult for a young mind to grapple with, but I always believed in the guiding hand of the universe, a spirit that watched over me, showing me a path through life that was, in many ways, extraordinary.
Our journey led us from the heart of Cleveland to the radiant city of Los Angeles when I was just twelve years old, entering ninth grade. Cleveland’s landscape was marked by the aftermath of the riots, and our new home in Los Angeles bore the scars of the Watts riots. Despite the distance, I never gave up hope that one day I would return to Cleveland, seeking answers and the chance to share the beauty of California with the man I believed to be my biological father.
Los Angeles exposed me to the captivating legacy of my namesake, Ducky Moore, a retired Harlem Globetrotter and a close friend of the legendary Don King, both of whom were prominent figures in the world of numbers bookmaking. My life, like anyone’s, had its highs and lows, but throughout, that guiding spirit remained with me. It fostered my unwavering faith in the messages I received from the voice in my head. Perhaps, at times, I’m a bit of a “lucky man.”
A decade later, through a twist of fate and the mysterious workings of the universe—guided by that ever-present voice—I found myself working at the American Broadcasting Company in the motion picture department. From the front desk, I had the privilege of welcoming movie stars like Cher, Kurt Russell, Martin Sheen, and many others. Life was an adventure, and I was thrilled to be part of it.
Then, one day, I received a phone call from my sister, who had grown into a respected attorney in the state of California. She had an inkling about who our biological father might be, and the revelation was in Los Angeles—a revelation that would change the course of my life forever.
Through a series of mystical events and after 58 years of searching, my Ancestry DNA test revealed the truth about my father’s identity. My story is one of unyielding persistence, of never giving up in the face of the impossible. I penned this book not as a professional writer but as a man compelled by an inner voice, a story that could only unfold through a higher power, whatever that means to you.
Now, I seek your support in sharing this compelling narrative with a wider audience. I’m not aiming to cast shadows on any character within this tale. Life was fun, and I want to convey that message, even during the toughest times. My book has already found its way to Amazon, but with your assistance, I can bring it to more hearts and minds. I need your help to hire a public relations and marketing company, as I strive to transform this remarkable journey into something that could grace the silver screen.
Thank you for joining me on this incredible voyage of self-discovery and sharing African American culture. Your contribution will be a vital step in making this story known and heard, as many have already asked, “When will they make the movie?”