A few years back I had a dreadful and scary thought enter my mind. "Why don't ya wtite a book"? 
"Write something about your adventures, life and times". 
For a while I thought this would be such a waste of time, but I started write a few things down in an old notebook. Time passed and after looking back through some of those old note books, where I keep all my drawings, grocery lists, to do lists and just general nonsense, I came across some of those writings. Not only did I laugh myself to tears, as I read through the pages, I had equal feelings of sorrow. 
My children, (all 7 of them) know very little or next to nothing of my childhood years, sooooo's........
Here you go kids, grand kids and anyone else that might be interested.

My younger earlier years are beginning to grow more foggy with each passing year.
Any more years and my childhood will be lost forever. Only I know and only I can
remember back to relive those adventures in my life. All others are gone or long forgotten.

I was born in St. Louis, Missouri on September 24, 1941 to a man and woman I would have liked to refer to as MOM and DAD but I never had that opportunity until I was a grown man. I'm not positive if I was born in or out of wedlock, but to this day it makes no difference to me at all. I'm only grateful I was brought into this world to live my life as adventurous as possible and wrack havoc on all those who cross my path. When you live without parents for your entire life, you have but one place to turn.

I was placed on a foster farm by my dad shortly after I was born. I seen him only 2 times up the year of 1948 or 1949. Once while I was in the hospital at 5 years and once on the farm at 6 years. My mother only once when I was 6 years old. I remember nothing further back than about 5 years old, so what you read here is from when I was a kid.

I lived with my mother for 1 year when I was about 13 or 14 years. That was it. She died a couple years later at the young age of 34 in Ft. Worth, Texas. To my knowledge, I had nothing to do with her death. Haven't seen her since. Sad!!

My father, three years after he was discharged from the Army, came to the foster home to collect his son. I was introduced to his third wife and two horrifying years of terror and fear. The drinking and abuse was a daily occurrence which I would wish on no other human being. The fights, cussing and violence never ceased until they parted ways at which time my father skipping to California to avoid alimony. My grandpa was left with the burden of an unwanted child of 10 years old.
I loved my Grandpa!!!
ps. he personally knew Pancho Villa
He was a great musician on piano and guitar
I think he sang too!!!



Bill Piepmeier
1997 on board
S/V Coyote
41' Formosa Ketch
Barnacle Bill
Billy Bob
"the popster"