In 1971, my parents, Mom's younger orphaned siblings (the Smith kids), some other relatives, and many good friends created a tribe that we called the Mojer Mafia, named for the street we lived on at the time. My sister, brother, and I were raised along with the crowd, so we had a unique childhood, to say the very least.
Like other mafias, the cops were not usually our friends--for good reason. Also like other mafias, we were fiercely loyal and protective of our gang.
We have been told countless times by thousands of people that we need to write a book about our story, and it looks like it falls on me to do it.
I hope you enjoy this ride of laughter and tears, joy and heartache, addiction and abuse, mistakes and overcoming, crime and punishment, loss and love.