title: From Prison to Pulpit: My Road to Redemption
author:  Vaughan Booker 
description: Twenty-five years ago, Vaughan Booker committed murder, shooting five arrows into his wife after finding her with another man. Today he is an African-American Episcopal priest in Alexandria, Virginia, preaching the forgiveness of sin to a multiracial church. From Prison to Pulpit: My Road to Redemption is the story of Vaughan Booker, fifty years old, two years and ordained minister of God and rector at Meade Memorial Episcopal Church, ten years out of the Pennsylvania penal system as a convicted murderer. It is a personal story of going from an altar boy and Boy Scout leader to prison lifer, the stuff of tabloid headlines. But more than that it is a story of sin brought on by rage, repentance, forgiveness, and redemption. It is an example of how any sinner can find salvation in God. -- <i>Midwest Book Review</i>
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  BOOKER – No Más
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _A Novel_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Volume 5
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  By
  
  
  
  
  
  John W. Mefford
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My first mistake became vividly obvious two minutes after the
  
  
  taxi driver zipped out of Joaquin Balaguer International Airport. Without even
  
  
  tapping the brake, the bushy-haired driver barreled the hunk of metal into a
  
  
  herd of vehicles, leaning the rust-covered four-door so hard to the left we
  
  
  clipped the front fender of an open-bed truck carrying chicken coops. I slid
  
  
  across the glazed, plastic-covered backseat, slamming me against the
  door—which
  
  
  then flew open.
  
  
  
  
  
  Clinging to the door, my momentum shoved me out into traffic, my
  
  
  ass nearly grazing the pavement at about fifty miles per hour. My eye caught
  
  
  the same black fender we’d just hit, only inches from the swinging door.
  
  
  Fighting a potent centrifugal force, I muscled up to where my hands had a
  solid
  
  
  grip