I was born into a large family with two brothers and three sisters. So needless to say my mother was continually busy. My father was always working shift work at the airport. When he was home, he was always busy repairing things and it seemed as though he could never get caught up. That’s where I came in. I worked on our farm to help my dad out.

I would mow grass, feed animals and all the other duties that I took upon myself so I could have more time with my dad. I worked on other farms for extra money whenever I got a chance. I would pay for my own school books, clothes etc. I alw  ays tried to make my dad proud of me.

I can't ever remember getting into trouble as a young man. I was always busy working somewhere and Sundays I was going to church. I didn't want to miss church. I would get ready while everybody else in the house was sleeping. The local assembly was about three miles away so I would ride my bike.

I was now in high school and my interest was in photography. I went to a college that summer through a program at school and became the school photographer. It was great! I loved it! I even set up a dark room in the cellar at home! The school said I was doing a great job. Then it all happened....my world was turned upside down. I went home that evening after school and there was a man there in uniform setting at our kitchen table. I asked what’s going on. My parents said we have signed you into the army...I said I'm only seventeen (it was during Vietnam and a lot of the graduates were enlisting). Mom, dad, I'm the school photographer now you can't do this...Their reply was it's to late son. It’s for your own good.....

The recruiter told me many people were shipping out to Vietnam and that I was to be a guinea pig for the army/marine contest in basic training. This was to determine who had the toughest basic training. I shipped out one month later. They were tough alright, with something to prove. Writing letters to my grandmother got me through it. But the thing that I will never forget is leaving the peacefulness of the farm and my shattered dream, to the screams of young men running across the upstairs floor, hearing the window crashing as he fell to his death. There were many AWOLs and suicides during this contest. I could never figure out why I was here, Or even if my parents knew what I was going through. One third of our company made it through basic.

They gave me the choice of infantry or artillery. I chose artillery. I went through training and waited on orders to Vietnam. They sent me to Germany instead. From this point on every thing was different, I was introduced to drugs and alcohol and everything that you can possibly imagine. Three years finally went by and I was going home. I married an Australian woman and we moved to Australia after living in the U.S. for a year. We were divorced eight months later.

I remained in Australia with friends. Alcohol, drugs, partying and riding in a 1% motorcycle club was my life. Whatever I had to do, I did. If it meant midnight drives to take care of "business" I was there. It would take too long to write my experiences on paper. Some things I would never disclose to you. But one thing I can tell you, I don't deserve to be where I am today. In the midst of all my wrong God still kept me.

After seven years I left Australia and returned to the U.S. All of my family lived in Louisiana. So I moved to New Orleans (LaPlace), LA. where I met my wife. I chilled out a while but it wasn't long and I was drawn back into the only life I knew, the partying, the drunkenness, fighting, and the desire for the outlaw lifestyle. I wanted it and nobody was going to stop it. I began riding with another 1% club not just a local but a national club, which I will not name, it's not important. Time went by and things between my wife and I were really getting bad. There were a lot of parties we went to. There were a lot of motorcycle runs, meetings and places I went to with the club. Some places you just do not take a woman with you. She didn't always understand that. We had many fights, arguments about the club. The drugs and alcohol didn't help our issues. Broken windows, busted furniture, a crying child and very unsociable neighbors were our common surroundings. There was nobody that could help us. We tried getting help from a marriage counselor which after one visit was a total disaster!! We lived in misery! Things would go well and one thing would spark a blazing fire!! I came in one night and my wife broke a chair across my back. When she saw it didn't faze me, she started loading a pistol. I didn't see the humor in it. I'm sure you get the picture.

One day I began playing a game with God. If he could show me a church that preached the truth I would go there. If not I more or less would do things my way. During my defiant/hunger state of mind he showed me a Pentecostal church. When I went in, I saw people acting crazy jumping around, dancing, and shouting. I said I'm out of here. I grabbed the door knob and the Lord said" What's the matter you big bad tough biker you afraid of a bunch of church people?". I met the pastor of Living Way UPC church (what a great man of God). Well I ended up taking my wife to church. She started crying in the middle of the service. I started getting uncomfortable. Church was over. We left and I figured she would be OK now. “She finally had the help she needed." Ha, I moved out. I moved to Kenner outside of New Orleans in a house with some biker friends (Drinking, partying, drugs). I used to load up my truck with my guns and clothes and take a little trip. I wanted to be ready for anything. I was so hard hearted and lost. I had it made up in my mind that no body could help me or save me and I really didn't care to be. But in my own mind I knew I was in trouble.

One night I decided to go to a strip club. A friend of mine and I went in and sat down at a table. We ordered our drinks. I hadn't smoked any weed or had anything to drink at all. It was the beginning of the night. Suddenly there was a large group of foreign sailors in front of us. My friend asks them to move. They didn't move fast enough for me. So I jumped up and said "what's the matter you can't hear?" There was a lot of confusion to say the least. The sailors left. My friend, miraculously was no where to be found! I then left before the law showed up. I went back to a transmission shop that one of the club brothers owned. It was late at night and no one was around. I stood there and I said to myself, "the next person that walks by I'm going to waste them. It doesn't matter who it is." Time went by and I heard this audible voice," either you go back to your family and you start living for me, or I tell you this day that you are going to die or your going to prison the rest of your life!". I stood there looking at myself. I had no conscience. I could kill an innocent person and not even care! I was really afraid of what happened to me. I was never like this! All of a sudden I heard this other voice, he said," you want to party, get out and party. You want to ride in the club, you ride in the club! As a matter of fact, don't you let anyone tell you what to do!". I said "Lord, If you'll put love back in my heart for people, and you'll make a way for me to get out of this club with no problems, then, I will go back and live for you!"

I got up the next morning (this was during Mardi Gras) and went to the shop where we kept our bikes. I had to finish wiring my bike. It was immaculate. All of the local and regional officers were there in the shop office and some of the other bro's. I said my “hi's”, but everything was kind of quiet. I went over to my ride and the carburetor was hanging off of the engine. There were many noticeable things wrong with my bike. I lost it immediately. I started throwing things around the shop. I went to the office screaming at the owner and supposedly brother of mine. No one seemed to know what happened to it. I said, “You have the key to this shop and you don't know who did this!". “You know how I am, the man that did this is a dead man!!" I took off after loading my bikes and other belongings. As I was driving myself to work, all I could think about was the way I was going torture and give this man a slow death for what he had done! No question about it! I was mad. As I was driving I heard the voice that spoke to me the night before, he said, "don't you remember, you ask me to make a way?" All of my hatred left me. I knew God had made a way. I arrived on the job. I received a phone call from the man that did me wrong, he said "I know that your going to kill me. Please let me see it coming. Don’t shoot me in the back." I told him I forgive you." It floored him. Anyway, I went back to the shop and removed his parts off of my bike and picked up mine. Of coarse he was not there to help me.

I kept my word to God and returned home. I began early morning prayer with Pastor Michael Day. We prayed every day through the week. He began to show me how to hear from the voice that had been so merciful to me that night. I was baptized in the name of Jesus Christ according to Acts 2:38 and filled with the Holy Ghost. I have never been the same! I have totally given myself to prayer, fasting, reading the word of God and I am in hot pursuit of him. You see, He did something no one else could do. He loved me so much that He gave me a second chance, by the blood He shed for me. No one can give you a new life. No one can give you a good conscience after living the life that I have lived. No one can rescue you out of the mire, but, Jesus. He put my life together. He put my family together. He made something useful out of someone useless. I have been in church now since 1992 and I owe him everything.......... I pray you never have to come to the mercy line like I did. If you do I pray you will make the right choice.

Brother Ed Sears