Kim Dawson

I grew up in a small town in South Georgia named Tifton. My father was a palm reader who moolighted saving battered and abused children. During the summers I traveled all over Georgia with my father picking up children whenever my dad recieved a call. Alot of the time my dad couldn't find a foster home for the kids so they would come home to our house. Our home was a modest three bedroom trailer that already housed my mom, two sisters and my two brothers. Yes it got a little crowded. My father entertained us with his palm reading and my mother cooked lots of whitetrash wonders. I kept myself amused by going through other peoples garbage and finding treasures. (I still do that today) I loved to build things and I built myself a hugh treehouse out of old construction waste. I also dug an underground fort that was six feet deep. We all played in that until the "big" rain. The photo below is me on the first day of first grade. After the photo was taken I punched the little boy behind me in the nose. I spent the rest of the day in the principals office. It was worth it.

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