Thirty years ago, this past week, I walked from the little town of Rapid River, Michigan, to Chicago (where we had just moved from) with Duane Kinnart and Joe Johnson. I barely knew Duane and had never met Joe. But they were part of a much bigger puzzle that started months earlier, when a business deal with a couple of pro wrestling friends of mine fell through because of some incredible circumstances, all of which were designed to guide me in a new direction. As it's been said, chaos always precedes change, and the fall of 1996 was filled with both. However, if I hadn't walked the return trip north alone from Chicago, none of what I have accomplished with regard to being behind a microphone for all these years would exist. Truly an incredible journey, one that has been and continues to be, an ongoing lesson of what it means to walk by faith, and not by sight. A little musical back up from my brother, Mark Cleveland on this one.
