What led me to run for Congress and what I went through doing it.
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   I RAN FOR CONGRESS ON DISABILITY: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY BY: STEVEN DION CASTELLANO JR.  Chapter 1: My Paternal Grandfather I believe my paternal grandfather was born in 1912. My paternal grandmother had told when she and her husband were born. She was born in 1920 and I think he was born in 1912, so he was 8 years older than her. His name was Edward Castellano. He had an Edward Junior, my uncle Sunny. Their first child, my aunt Sharon had supposedly things like he is Latino and other things that didn’t make them look. Being Latino was something they denied. I believe they denied it and claimed his adopted Italian heritage as he was adopted by the Castellanos in New York as he shows up in the 1920 census with them. His skin was brown and he had a nose similar to those in Hispanic countries. After my grandmother died my parents said all sorts of things came out of the wood work. They found his birth certificate and he was born in Cuba. He was Cuban and probably illegitimate in 1912. I’m not sure if that was before or after children were stopped being branded as bastards legally. My grandfather’s birth name was Eduardo Peralez. My great grandmother was almost  black. She was probably Mulatto. She came from Cuba through Florida and made her way north and died around North Carolina I believe I heard. The next thing they know is that he was eventually adopted by the Castellanos. Another uncle, who I will not name and smokes marijuana like my dad has all the records including DNA testing that goes back to African Pygmies. I am Latino, White, and African American. My uncle hides these records for me because I could use it to run for office as an anti-marijuana candidate. My mother, who will write about later in the book, thought that was ridiculous that he would care or if that was a serious possibility. Not only did I run for office, twice technically, but smokers often care and fight me on it. Smokers of both marijuana and tobacco. And why not? I support increasing tobacco prices to a 300% excise tax and wish to keep marijuana off the streets and unavailable for smoking and I ran on it. Alcohol I want heavier excise taxes too because it will reduce the number of car accidents. Is it someone’s choice to smoke or drink? Perhaps. Howeve r, discouragement is warranted to keep it to a minimum for public health and public safety reasons and that is my view and the evidence does support that. My grandfather was married once before my grandmother. He had two kids and they got divorced. His oldest two children did came to visit him once decades later. Then there was my grandmother Flo. I had accusations of her being a French whore as she was from a French immigrant farm family. Edward and Flo Castellano had seven children. I had seen her engagement and wedding rings. They were looped together with the birth stones of their children. She has been rumored to cheat on my grandfather and one of the boys was in fact my grandfather’s brother’s child. My stepmother, I will refer to her as the new Mrs. Castellano, told me she was an undiagnosed and untreated bipolar. She said bipolar runs deep in our family. She had it, my father has it, my brothers have it and she believes I have it. I was diagnosed bipolar  but it has been dropped to PTSD that is so severe. My grandfather was usually pretty nice and loving. He was not a bad grandfather. His wife was, I am going to say odd and never left town. He would visit their oldest daughter in Grants Pass, Oregon. My dad would actually go with him. My mom said that his oldest sister treats him like and an aunt. Further, she had a grandchild older than me, her nephew. The oldest  of seven kids is a big difference between the youngest. He came to visit us in Dexter, Oregon once too. I want to respect my grandfather. He must have been a loving father but I know he was a loving grandfather who would visit his children and grandchildren out of state against his wife’s wishes. Family is the most important thing in the world but family is who you choose and who choose you. For both conditions to be met, God must make a decision. The Holy Spirit has always led to exactly where I have needed to be as painful as it may have been but God used me, He will put you exactly where you need to be and use you as long you submit to His will. There is pain and loss in the offering but curse God and die. Obey and be rewarded. My grandfather died in 2003. That was a very pivotal year for both me and my dad and we had a very strong connection as first born son and father. My grandfather’s d eath depressed my bipolar father and he stopped doing things like exercise. My grandfather was a good man as far as I can tell. He put a roof over seven kids head and fed them and his wife and he loved them enough to visit them out of state against his wif  e’s wishes. He was the calm one. My grandmother would get mad at you and say every kids name in the family in birth order until it was your name. A trait I picked up for a while myself as an eldest child of my mom’s and third oldest of my stepmom’s. I had six younger siblings from 3 weeks younger to almost 10 years younger. As an adult, my mom made me responsible for helping financially supporting her children from her second marriage and they were always a higher priority than me. My grandfather was the one everyone liked. People may not have liked my grandmother  but they liked him. His children liked him. His children from the first marriage were compelled to visit him later in life. His in laws liked him and his grandchildren liked him. My brother, who was horribly abused and complained about so many people abusing him, especially as the  problem child, honored him by using the name Peralez hyphenated with Castellano on Facebook. I want to honor him too. So many people hurt me but he was a good grandfather. Exactly what he needed to do he did. He had a pool and made sure we knew how to swim. He gave us lessons and until we were good swimmers. He never hit me. Not in the face, on the butt, anything. My father did, my grandmother did, my mom did, my stepmother did, my stepfather surely did, but he never did. All those adults struck me in one way or another giving me anger and anxiety, but he never did. He came out with me to ride my bike as he was retired and my dad was a chemist. He would get me slurpies. He worked in the yard and barbequed. He played with me just like he would with his kids. That is love. Working for your family and teaching and playing with them. He was an excellent grandfather and he had stopped smoking because he had cancer in his stomach and finally died from liver cancer. A good man, and you know what, I can emulate him. Flee a dictatorship. Love your family. Love your wife and family until the unbeliever departs and you are not bound. Marry another women and have all the kids and grandkids you want and love and teach and support them, never letting them down. He never let me down, not even when he died because he had cancer and fought to live. He had an autoimmune disease that killed him at a very old age. I have an autoimmune disease but I choose to live and die like him. I have rheumatoid arthritis like my maternal grandmother but I will deal with it like my grandfather. My wife is filing for divorce and I have had my heart broken but I will deal with it like him. I will treat people like him.  Chapter 2: My Maternal Grandfather My maternal grandfather was a child of German immigrants in Nebraska. He won the Polk County Spelling Bee twice. He was a student in one of the last one room schoolhouses in America. Discipline on the farm was harsh and included switches that the child had to go cut down. His father was an alcoholic and he became one too. He was part of a Catholic family just like my maternal grandmother. When his father lost his farm he hung himself in the barn. It was a joke that he was born in a barn because his parents lived in the barn when he was born and they were still building their house. After his father committed suicide, the family moved to California and that is where my grandparents met. Alcoholism and drug addiction runs in my family and so does mental illness including suicidal tendencies. My grandfather met my grandmother and they dated. On their first date they went roller skating and he fell backwards and hit his head and passed out. They had a running joke that he went roller skating and hit his head and was married with three children when he woke up. My grandfather was a Democrat and he married a staunch Republican and often listened to her on who to vote for. My grandfather started out driving gas trucks for the gas company. However, he had a problem in his marriage. He drank and eventually hit his wife. They had a boy first, my uncle, then a girl, my aunt, and another girl, my mom. Eventually he also ran his own gas station and taught my uncle the business. My grandfather quit drinking shortly after my mother was born. He would pray the Rosary every day to quit drinking until he did. But, they both smoked and my grandmother had several miscarriages. Eventually his smoking would do him in. My maternal grandfather had his flaws. He was an alcoholic and his family were aware of his flaws. According my maternal grandmother, you couldn’t tell if he were drunk. In the  beginning of his career, he drove gas trunks and may have drank while alone. Alcoholism and substance abuse runs on all sides of my family. So does mental illness as they go hand in hand. My maternal grandparents had my uncle first, in 1955. My grandmother had a few miscarriages before she had my aunt. My aunt had issues as both my parents had a very negative nickname for her: Mary Bitch, instead of Mary-Beth. In fact, she and my mom got into a  physical fight while my mother was pregnant with me. Trauma started early in my life, hence my PTSD. A year and a half after my aunt was born, my mother was born, premature but fully formed, just very tiny. There was talk of a miscarriage or stillbirth after my mother, the youngest. After my grandfather’s first heart attack, he had to change his lifestyle. He had to quit smoking and my grandmother offered to qui t too, but he didn’t make her. They didn’t know much about secondhand smoke then and he had a wife smoking around him, which probably didn’t help anything. He needed less salt and vegetables and had to be very careful with his diet. They also knew less about nutrition so he was eating iceberg lettuce and they knew nothing about monounsaturated versus polyunsaturated fats. He also needed rest so he slept with a kitten that would lay on him while he was very still. The kitten loved to sleep on him because he was so tired he lie very still. He had to work less too.   He recovered from his heart attack and was working again. He had already stopped drinking so alcohol was not an issue. However, he had weakened his body from years of alcohol abuse as well as smoking, stress, and bad diet. He would sneak cigarettes at work. My mother and my aunt would catch him. At first, my grandmother thought they were just trying to get their father in trouble. My grandmother eventually took them seriously and investigated at the gas station. She asked the employees. The employees would cover for the boss and she would explain his very life was on the line. It actually was. He was smoking at work like he used to drink on the road. My grandmother was a typical Alanon who would take his alcoholic gifts to their priest to keep her husband from drinking. My grandfather would get bottles of wine from friends who did not know he quit drinking. My grandfather had his second heart attack when my mother was 10 years old. It was 1973 and my mom’s 10 th  birthday was December 8 th , 1972. My grandmother was called to the hospital because my grandfather had a heart attack. She came and saw his dead body on a stretcher with a tag that said DOA. My mother told she knew what that stood for: Dead On Arrival. His second heart attack killed him. Years of poor diet, stress as a workaholic, years of alcohol abuse, and years of smoking all took him before his time. My grandmother loved him dearly and never remarried. She got sick a year later. My mother said she enjoyed her sex life with her husband. As a man who has been married, has fallen in love, has had sex and cannot separate sex from love, my heart goes out to my grandmother who lost her husband in her early forties. Come to think of it, at that age as a woman, she really would want sex at that point. To lose your spouse and not sleep next to them and make decisions with them or make love to them… I know how that feels now as I just lost my wife to darkness, the serpent. My eve was eating the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. I came along and asked her to follow me to the tree of life and she dropped the fruit she got from the serpent. However, she kept looking back. As I started sprinting toward the tree of life, she yanked away her hand and ran back to the serpent. I came after her and she shut me out as she ate the fruit from the serpent and she and the serpent chased me off. My wife is dead since she slipped into darkness. I consider myself a widower as Obi Wan Kenobi considers Anakin Skywalker dead after turning into Darth Vader. Anakin was supposed to bring balance to the force but left it in darkness that has continued to Episode 8. My wife was supposed to serve God with me but she abandoned me. I am looking again for a better partner. The unbeliever departed an d I am not bound. “But as for me and my house, we will serve the lord.” Joshua 24:15 KJV
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