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unds, three ounces. The doctor who examined me told my mother, "Congratulations, Mrs. Pryor, you have a boy! No, wait, it's a girl! No, it is a boy!"
Mom cried, "What did I have? A freak?"
Yes and No.
My freakish life parallels my father's in many ways: a Peoria whorehouse, abuse, alcohol and drug addiction, and frequent bad decisions.
But I survived. And that's what my book is about, a real-life story of overcoming obstacles, surviving, and thriving.
Richard Pryor Jr.
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