The Elephant, The Reasons, & The Father of the Year - Mr. Greg Morgan

I've started this tribute platform for my son, Landen Chase Swanson, who passed on January 13, 2012. I did it to keep his legacy alive and I did it thinking that others may want to use it also for the same reasons. It was ready three years ago but I just really utilized it. It was ready three years, three years and eight months, after his passing. In total it took me nearly seven years to actually get things rolling. I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm learning as I'm going but there's an elephant in the room, on this site, and I can no longer avoid it, addressing it.

I've received several messages from family and friends giving me praise for the concept of Project 100 People They tell me that I'm kind and caring for providing a stage for people to deal with grieving.  Such nice things but in all reality my inspiration was motivated by my own regret. I have so much regret, or should I say had, when it comes to my son, Landen. First I need to paint the picture, most everyone I keep in contact with through social media had no idea that I had a son in San Diego, until he passed. It's because, I assume, that I wrote hundreds of blogs, articles and interviews but never once did I mention my boy, my son, Landen. It wasn't because I was ashamed, embarrassed, or more importantly, that I didn't love him. I made the decision when he was younger not to disrupt his life. Or mess with the dynamic of his family setting in California. I figured that I'd connect fully with him as an adult. I had my reasons, but as life often goes, we're not promised tomorrow. So what I put off, a solid relationship with my child, became a ball, giant ball, of sorrowful regret, a price I have to pay.

Landen has a fantastic Dad, Greg Morgan, who met Landen's Mother when she was pregnant, big pregnant. I say that because that says a lot about him right there. Greg was such a man in 1991 that he took Bethany, and her precious package, as his. He was there with her in the last trimester of her pregnancy and he raised Landen. To be brutally honest, I was embarrassed that Landen got stuck with me as a father, after I met Greg. Being in the presence or in the likes of Greg, I think anyone might drive off and say to themselves, "That is a good man, that family is lucky." When I first met him, within sixty seconds, I thanked God. Thanked him that my son was blessed with that man as his meter, his example, because I looked at the life he was providing them, a life that anyone would want to have, give, or live. They had a man that takes care of his family very well. Above all, Greg works hard for them, loves them, and raised a child that's his but genetically mine. But who the hell do you tell that to, what I just wrote? As a man, there's certain times that you're privileged or graced, to see someone operate and navigate better than you. But more than that, there's times that you're blessed with the ability to see past your own bravado, man thing, and learn a thing or two. Greg made me want to be a better man.  

Besides not being able to express my sentiments with anyone, I was looking at my children with Tammie and thinking you poor son's of a gun. It was the most self-evaluating period ever. I met Bethany in San Diego in 1989. I and several other semi-retired drug dealers were laying low after an investigation, that I was the focus of or brought on, due to my relationship with a murderer. This in it's self was enough to feel bad for Landen, his sister and brother, Kaylee and Christian, and anyone that knew me. After 1989, I went back to Kansas City to pick up where I'd left off. Again carrying on with the same poison, but this time I had incorporated drug ripoffs to my resume. It's horrific to write that, just the shame alone is enough to go into hiding, but no need for that because I actually had to go into hiding for all the bent meter stuff I did. Staying alive is more of a motivating factor than shame, usually. 

You can see where this was a huge problem for me to even look in the direction of my babies. I was an outlaw and then there's this guy Greg, doing incredible things for his family, not to his family, like me. In all reality, I was running with my kids because there were a lot of people who wanted to shoot me. The only thing that I had going for me, if you can call it that, was the blessing or pass from a few guys in other places than Kansas City. In 1996 I headed back to California, family in tow, to add another gig to my resume. Driver for hire, for a group called the AFO or Tijuana Cartel. Right? Call me Dad?

Now, if Greg wasn't a great father, which he is, all he had to do was stand next to me and he'd get the Father of the Year sash, crown, and a year long, unlimited pass for one, to Boomers Miniature Golf Experience in Vista California. Even when I stopped doing things, I still messed up. We left San Diego and went to Los Angeles because I pissed off a guy in Mexico named, Ivan the Butcher or something with butcher attached. He got promoted to "National Distribution" (just made that job title up) for AFO, then subsequently found out what I had done with an ally of theirs in Sonora in the early 90's and demanded that I go to KC and open up some connections. But instead of - just say no, I go and take the Butcher's goods and thought I'd just by-pass the money exchange part - wrong. So the butcher wanted to butcher me up, but some friends intervened and told me it was time to go, leave San Diego. It was the last straw, for them and me. And now I ask you, why would I mess that up for Landen? He had a great life, hitting the progressive or lotto in terms of a dad...a man, a role model, a good person. 

After that episode with the men in Mexico, I decided to straighten up for good. I started the non-profit services, the advocacy group, and followed up on the entrepreneur trail. But little did I know I was about to fight the toughest chapter ever. The loss of so many things, in regards to my precious babies - life, health, and broken hearts. Then on top of all that, I got my extremities busted and bent up. Everything that I just spilled out has been eating at me for nearly 30+ years. It was just recently, that I've tried to get it out and let it go. I want no more secrets or regrets. it's debilitating. I want a great life and I think I deserve to hold my head high today and not be embarrassed, internally or publicly, I'm a good person, I've just made mistakes and I've had my share of poor choices, but no more from here on out.

I want to thank Bethany and her husband Greg for blessing Landen with a great life. He saw things, did things, he lived life. Greg Morgan you're an incredible man, you're family is incredibly lucky to have you as a father, a husband, and I was blessed to witness a great father, husband in action and putting his family above all else.