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From Chapter One, "Speaking Out" A lot of people have written about me these past five score years and more since my untimely demise. A lot of people have said things, and a lot of people have been wrong. Not that I blame them. When you have lived as colorful and, as some might say, sordid a life as I, and when you have been gone from center stage for so long a period as I, things are bound to go a bit bug-eyed from time to time. Still, I have seen people refer to me as though they knew me. As such, they have portrayed me as a cold-blooded killer and a heartless, homeless wretch, as a whoring whirl-a-way and a confidence man and even—if you can believe it—a drunk. Me. Can you imagine?