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A TRUE AMERICAN: We are going to release my autobiography a few pages at a time over the next several weeks, into the summer months. Hope you understand it is coming out first on Facebook, and my Blog @ John T. Wayne/tumbler.com Here it is.......for some reason the photos and documents are not showing up. , so I have added them at the end.

AN AMERICAN HERITAGE AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY

BY

JOHN T. WAYNE

“The truth will always come to the surface like a bubble in the middle of the ocean, the only question is when?" John T. Wayne

So, who is John T. Wayne?

I think the best way for the interested reader to follow what happened in my life is to treat this story as an eighty plus year old mystery. That is what my father’s birth was, a mystery to the entire family, (I am referring to my brothers and I). The fact is he was born, he was our father, we knew his birth date, we knew who his mother was, what we didn’t know is who his father was and neither did he. He would never know.

Our Father Billy Gene Hammock at the age of 11

In 2011 late in the summer I placed a call to the National Enquirer. The fellow on the phone had a foreign accent. I know I started the conversation wrong because, he laughed and said, “It takes more than looking like someone to be their grandson,” and hung up the phone. He’s right of course, but he never got the story because he didn’t listen long enough to hear the rest of the story. That is what you the reader are getting now. The rest of the story, as Paul Harvey would say.

Imagine for a moment if you will, that you grow up on planet earth not knowing anything of family. Imagine that what little you have learned from your family just doesn’t add up. Imagine if you will, you have grown up thinking your last name was one thing, when it was really something else.

This is how our father grew up.

Why the mystery? Why all the secrecy? Why all the deception? Why couldn’t my father know who his earthly father was?

Dad understood one thing early on, and what he learned did not please him. His own family was willing to lie to him so that he never knew his real father. When I say his family I’m not talking about just his mother, I mean the entire family. I don’t include his half brothers and sisters here, because I don’t think they knew the truth any more than we did. They just never questioned any discrepancies they were told about our father. Consequently, neither did their children. I’m talking about the elders in the family, my great grandmother and others who were responsible adults at the time my father was born in 1935. Often times in my own life I suffered from the idea I was cursed, that I had upon me one of those generational curse’s which the Bible eludes to. One thing to keep in mind when dealing with one of those is; “When cursed by both God and the Devil, God is the only one faintly interested in lifting the curse.”

In my life I have learned one thing well. A lie on paper is still a lie. I don’t condone such a thing, it is fraud. It makes others believe something that is not true. I’ll give you a for instance. One of the reason’s D.O.T. had made all of the trucking companies go to electronic logs to track when a truck is being driven is because so many drivers have fudged their logs for so many years, and the good ones got smart and knew good and well how to run two or three logs at a time so they could run around the clock if needed be to get more miles. That’s great until you fall asleep behind the wheel and kill innocent children getting off a school bus in Florida. That happened while my wife and I lived in Florida about ten years ago. It was a tragedy. The company didn’t lose much, but the driver is probably still in jail and the children, (seven from the same family), will never grow up all because a truck driver learned to cheat the documents that say how long he’s been driving. The electronic logs don’t lie and can’t be fudged to my knowledge.

Let’s examine my father’s situation.

Billy Gene Hammock; not a thing in that name indicates he was John Wayne’s son. No one would be looking for a connection to the Duke, and that was just the way his phony Birth Certificate was meant to read. To us boys our father’s life was a horrid chain of events; yet his entire existence was never a complete story, more a brainteaser with many missing pieces, however such a story can be patched together if one is willing to try. The result is what you are now reading. I would like to mention here that often times the Duke is criticized for having never fought in WW ll. You can’t tell me John Wayne didn’t serve in WW ll. He flew all over the occupied Pacific Theatre to entertain U.S. troops without a military escort risking life and limb in the process. His pilot still lives in Blytheville, Arkansas. While it may have been the dumbest thing he ever did, he lived to tell.

This is a Photo of J.W. with his pilot.

I would like to state here that the evidence I have is stronger than any piece of paper. It is 4 generations of John Wayne. My father looked like the Duke though he could not stand straight. I look like the Duke, my son and my brother look like the Duke a good deal. It may be our grandson’s come along as well. Only time will tell. What I can tell you is genes don’t lie.

I’m may not have every piece of the puzzle in this book, but I have enough to see most of the picture. Anyone can see it if they have half a brain. I can’t turn back the clock and go see what happened in 1934, I can’t witness what happened eighty three years ago, but what has come to me is no coincidence. Much of what I have learned has come to me from complete strangers while signing books around the country. I never expected that, not in a million years. I don’t think anyone else did either.

One of my most interesting exchange’s came from Maureen O’Hara in 2013 while visiting the John Wayne Birthplace Museum in Winterset, Iowa. I came up to the house and a line of people was waiting by the white picket fence and I asked the folks in line what was going on. A woman standing at the front of the line said, “Maureen O’Hara is inside, we’re waiting for her to come out.” Just then the door opened and her grandson pushed her down the sidewalk. Now I’m no line cutter, and out of respect for the other folks in line I stepped back and was about to go to the back of the line when Mrs. O’Hara stopped her grandson looked up at me and said, “You ought to be part of the family.” I was stunned to say the least. I just drove six hundred miles to see her. Without knowing a thing about me she comes out with a statement like that! I didn’t engage her, she engaged me so I responded, “Well ma’am, I believe I am.” She took another look at me then and said, “Do you know it or do you just believe it?” I answered with, “I know it. The rest of the world just doesn’t know it yet.” She smiled at me then with knowing eyes and waved at her grandson to move along. There were well over a hundred folks lined up to meet her and she greeted every one of them after speaking with me. I watched for a while, just a bit off key because of what just happened. Me a complete stranger and she thought I should be one of the John Wayne family. Later that day about noon they were breaking ground for the new museum and she began to take pictures with the John Wayne dress alike’s, I say dress alike’s because none of them really looked like the Duke. Once again she was in charge and when they started she said, “You come on in here, you aren’t getting out of this.” I was invited to take the photos with her and the other John Wayne’s, but I wasn’t dressed like the Duke. I was just a cowboy. I took another photo with her on my own camera, and I have that one. I also gave her two signed books at that time. One I signed to the first lady of John Wayne movies, and the other from The grandson of the old Duke. Two weeks before that I visited the Alamo in Texas. I picked up a signed copy of a book called, “The Bugles are Silent.” It was written by a gentleman named John Knaggs. I met John that day, he didn’t look up when he asked how I wanted my book signed. He was just working his way through the line as quickly as he could. I said, “Just make it to John T. Wayne.” He glanced up then, a moment later he stood up and shook my hand. “Well I’ll be, I guess it is John T. Wayne. Good Lord, you look just like him.” “I come by it honestly,” I said. When he finished his line we went across the street and had lunch. When he signed that book, he signed it to: The grandson of the old Duke. Since that day, I have signed most of my books: From the grandson of the old Duke.

-John T. Wayne

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A growing fan base is exciting. I hope you all like my work and see just how much of a chip I have become. That's me about 1968. Who knew that one day I would be writing stuff like this?

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A TRUE AMERICA

TRUE AMERICAN: Don't tell me John Wayne was a coward because he didn't fight in WWII. He flew all over the Pacific theater just to entertain the troops with this guy, and he didn't have a military escort. The fellow still lives in Blytheville, Arkansas today. Say's it's the dumbest thing he ever did in his life, but he lived to tell.

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A TRUE AMERICAN

A TRUE AMERICAN: I have noticed in some parts of the USA if you mention the term Yankee or Rebel you just conjured up a 160 year old prejudice depending on who you are speaking to. Guess what, we are all American's now. We are all still living under Lincoln's Martial Law which has never been lifted. If you want to get mad about something, get mad about that. We haven't been free since 1861.

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Anyone who wants to enlist truth as a part of there life must use history to uncover it, and validate it.

John T. Wayne 

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This short story is taken from the novel by John T. Wayne

Copyright 2017 THE COUNTERFEITER'S

Chapter 1

The long black coach drew to a halt in front of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. The gentleman riding Dutch tapped on the back rail for the driver to get down and assist him. He was an elderly man, but he had not become an old man by doing foolish things. He was wealth and one thing he had learned early in life was the fact no one listened to a poor man. A poor man could be right one hundred ways from Sunday, but if he hadn’t a penny to his name, no one would listen to him. By the same token, a rich man could be wrong a hundred ways from Sunday and people would listen in droves. It was one of life’s injustices, but no one could explain or change such human behavior. To try and do so was a fool’s errand. The coachman placed a two tier step in front of the side door and opened it wide, stepping up to give the elderly man the needed assistance to exit his exquisite black beauty. The corners were graced with lanterns of gold, the inside was nothing short of red velvet, the best material money could buy at the time. The only coach in town with windows and stained glass as well. Red sash curtains adorned the windows from the inside, curtains on brass rails top and bottom. The Elderly man placed his cane on the first step and then stepped down slowly. He repeated the procedure two more times to reach the ground. It was crazy, but his youth had fled. Now that he could have anything he wanted, anything on earth he had the money to buy, he wanted the one thing which money couldn’t buy, his youth. If he had only known what he knew now when he was seventeen, he should be ruler of the entire world by now, yet, with the country in disarray, he still had his chance. Lincoln was nothing more than a puppet. If he pulled the Presidents strings just right, he could have his way and he would be Master of the American Universe. Anyone could be president, but to master one’s surroundings to the point of a supreme being, that was his goal. Let them be president, he thought as he looked with disdain at White House. Let them stand in line to be president, but he, Harry Rothschild would be their master. Each and every one would answer to him, his children and his children’s children. “Wait here Heathcliff,” he told his driver. “Yes sir,” the man bowed. Slowly the man shuffled his way up the White House steps. At the door he drew up. Lifting his cane he rapped three times. Slowly the big front door opened revealing a butler within. “I am here to see the President.” “Yes sir, may I take your coat and hat?” The butler took Harry’s coat and hat leaving him standing in the entrance. His cane pressed on the floor as it often did these days of late, his knees getting weaker by the day. Sometimes he would get a terrible stabbing pain as he walked or attempted to take a seat which was so debilitating he would almost collapse. After a moment the butler returned and said, “This way sir.” Harry followed him down a long hallway, slowly and methodically he made his way to the Oval Office. There behind his desk sat Abraham Lincoln, the sixteenth president of the United States, but he was only president of a small part of them. The Union had an awful tear in its fabric and Lincoln was doing his best to force the Union back to a full assembly. “Have a seat Harry. I have been thinking about the war much of late. I could stand a break.” Taking a seat in the plush chair adjacent the president’s desk, he leaned back and laid his cane across his lap. “Any subject would no doubt be a welcome change.” “What have you in mind today Harry?” “Sir, you really need to go after the counterfeiters. These people are the scum of the earth. If we are not careful, the American greenbacks will be worthless in another year.” “You are a long-time friend Harry. I am willing to listen to your advice on just about anything, but the war has my attention just now. If we don’t win the war, the greenbacks won’t matter.” “Your point is well taken sir, but if we do not shore up the value of a dollar, these counterfeit bills will kill it. The only way to shore up the money is to go after the counterfeiters. For that reason I have drawn up papers which would create a division of government called the Secret Service.” “The Secret Service eh?” “Yes sir. Their only mission would be to go after the boodler’s, the counterfeiters if you will. They would act in the interest of the President of the United States.” Harry knew the last statement would get to Lincoln. He knew if he played his cards just right he would have Lincoln eating out of his hand. That is why he iterated the fact that the Secret Service would answer directly to the President of the United States. “We are finally getting a little footing in the war, but we are going to need every penny to sustain what we have taken so far.” “Don’t worry about the money. I will draw up another draft which will fund the organization from the git go. You won’t have to borrow any more money that way.” “We aren’t borrowing money now, we are printing it though.” “Sir, if I may suggest, I know good and well you do not want to borrow anything which the American people might have to pay back at a later date, but if they lose their Union, there will be no United States. What difference will it make? You need to borrow and borrow heavily if you really want to win. Don’t worry about paying it back until you win.” “Harry, we have been friends for a long time, but you worry me sometimes. I have the feeling it doesn’t matter which side wins, you will come up a winner either way.” “That is smart business Abe.” “Is it?” “I will not help the south and you know that, but I will not banish myself from the opportunity to profit from either side, depending on who wins.” “In the end, you will have to do business with the winner won’t you.” “Yes Abe, and that is why I want it to be you. Borrow all you can, but win this crazy war. That way, we will be able to remain friends for a long time. If the north was to lose, you would be convicted for war crimes within a few days. For declaring Martial Law unnecessarily, for violating States rights and any number of charges those southern gentlemen might dream up.” “I see your point. I must win at all cost.” “You must.” “Alright, let me see the document.” Harry slid the document from his breast pocket and handed it over the butler who then carried it around the desk to the president. Once Lincoln had his document his butler resumed his place just off the carpet. Lincoln studied the document for several minutes and then looked up. “You’ve been hard at work. This is an idea born of necessity if I ever saw one.” “Yes sir, it is born of necessity, and if you will sign the order, we can get about the business of winning this war.” Lincoln picked up his inkwell and then his pen. He placed the well just above the document and dipped his pen. With calculating fingers he placed his signature at the top and the bottom of the document. Then he wrote in the date on both. Holding the document up for his butler he said, “See this get to the Secretary of State immediately.” The butler long practiced at taking orders lifted the document from Lincolns hand and exited the room. For the next several minutes the two men sat alone, but they did not stare much at one another. They conversed instead. “How is the missus,” Harry inquired. “She has been having a rough time of things lately. She is afraid someone is out to get me, thinks I will be assassinated.” “That’s crazy talk,” Harry replied. Immediately he knew he had struck a nerve. Maybe crazy hadn’t been the best choice of words. “She isn’t crazy, she is just worried,” the president said. “I can understand,” Harry said as he rolled the idea around in his mind. An assassination just might be what the doctor ordered, friend or not. He diverted his eyes from Lincoln as he thought of the prospect. What would it mean, the president killed in the middle of the war? It would mean very little, but what if he was assassinated after the war had been won? Harry cursed his train of thought and shook it from his head. “How much would you need to really win?” “At least two hundred million.” “I’ll get you the money by next week.” “I don’t know what to say.” “Just tell me that you will win, that is all I ask.” “I will.” Just then the butler returned and Harry got up from his seat, the president likewise. He had things to do if he was going to front the Union two hundred million dollars. He was going to have to travel and fast. In a time when travel was not very safe, he had it to do. There was no one for him to trust short of his son, and he was out of town, as a matter of fact, he was in Britain making deals for the family. “Mr. President, until we meet again.” The two men shook hands and Harry exited the office. Gathering his coat and hat near the front door he waited for Emmett the president’s butler to open the large swinging door to let him out. Once out on the steps his carriage driver met him and assisted him down the multiple steps then back into the carriage. It would take months for the Treasury and the State Department to figure out the logistics involved with setting up the Secret Service, meaning it was a gamble, and one Harry would gladly take. There was no other way. The Secret Service was just the first step. There were many more if he was going to enslave an entire nation. The trick would be to not let them know they were slaves. A man who does not know he is a slave, makes for the happiest little devil. What if America were an entire nation of slaves? That would be the neatest trick yet. Well that remained to be seen. Lincoln was a slave and didn’t have the faintest clue of his real station. Could he duplicate the measure by millions? It would not be easy, but he had his opening, two hundred million dollars of debt guaranteed by the American president! These sniveling little American’s didn’t have a clue what they were up against. No matter which side won the war, he was going to enslave them. He understood money in ways that most would envy. He knew for instance debt was just another word for slavery. Great Britain had debtor prisons, yet these silly American’s were not willing to place folks behind bars for debt. Why was that? What was this new idea of Freedom? There was only one way to have Freedom, and that was to have more money than God himself. Harry Rothschild had just such a stash. It was time to put his money to work. That was another thing about money. If you didn’t know how to make your money work for you, being rich was not going to be an option in your lifetime. As the carriage ambled up Pennsylvania Avenue Harry began to mentally plot and to plan his moves. Each one designed to bring the United States of America under his control and jurisdiction with no one suspecting a thing. Regardless as to which side won, he would be there to pick up the pieces. His first order of business was to speak with the secret order of Jesuit’s located on Wall St. It would require a trip to New York, but such could not be helped. As he thought about his plans it began to rain. The coachman would be getting drenched, but he was warm and dry inside is custom built rig. The windows were closed so no rain would get in. Not even the red velvet would get wet on a night such as this. That was the thing about money. With enough of it, a man could have anything he wanted.

Chapter 2

Harry Rothschild entered the small cathedral at St. Paul’s church on Broadway St. in Manhattan. He knew the Jesuit order of priest met here secretly once a month. He knew the leader of the order. He wanted to make a deal. It was folly to think that he alone could enslave the Freedom loving American’s, but a deal with the Jesuit order of secret priest’s might be just what the doctor ordered. They Vatican had since 1825 been looking for a way to undermine the American way of life. Simply put, if the American’s could really be free, under their contract with God, then there was no need for the Catholic church! He knew the secret order of priest’s had sworn to destroy America and all she stood for. If he handled things just right, he would have a working partner, the perfect partner. They were not interested in the money side of things, so all of the money would remain his. He could assist where needed if they needed money, but his investment would all come back to him in a matter of time. This was a secret order, as such he wasn’t supposed to know anything about the Jesuit Priest, but money has its privilege. After a minute sitting on the front pew a young priest came to him. “How may I be of service to you sir?” “I am looking for Cardinal Glenn.” “Sir, he is not here today.” “But he will be, he’ll be here later.” “Sir?” “Don’t play games with me young man. I happen to know that he will be here in one hour to conduct a secret meeting, held once monthly with a group of priest. Shall I go on?” “Sir, this is out of my realm. I am not sure what to do.” “Instruct him when he arrives that Harry Rothschild is here to speak with him. He’ll know what to do.” “Yes sir, shall I go now?” “You may go.” They young priest had become very uncomfortable, very fidgety as he spoke with Harry. Harry was extending mercy to the poor fellow by letting him go. He was not the head of the organization anyway, and he certainly didn’t have an in with the Vatican. That would be Cardinal Glenn. The afternoon drug on as the rain pelted the church steps outside. He stood at the top of the staircase watching the rain. The time was now if he was going to make a deal. There was no one else sworn to destroy America. Not in the literal sense. Slowly a carriage pulled up and the Cardinal exited onto the steps of the church. He had a good driver. That reminded Harry, Weldon was getting old. It was time he began looking for a replacement. He watched as the man made his way up the steps out of the rain. “Harry, I have heard you want to see me.” The man held out his hand. “I do,” he said as he shook hands with the high priest. “Come on inside, let’s get out of this weather.”

The two men entered the church and let the door close all the way but a small opening to let air filter through the church. Harry followed Cardinal Glenn through the sanctuary then back to his office. Once inside the confines of the office Cardinal Glenn motioned for Harry to take a seat. Doing so, Harry waited for the Cardinal to make himself comfortable. “What did you want to see me about Harry?” “I know a good deal about money.” “No one could argue that.” “You on the other hand know a good deal about souls.” Intrigued Cardinal Glenn leaned forward in his chair, “Go on.” “I would like to make a pact.” “What kind of pact?” “You and the Vatican can have all of the souls, and I will keep all of the money.” “You are not rich enough?” “That’s the deal.” “I’m not sure I understand the deal. That’s not much to go on.” “I happen to know that you want America under Vatican rule.” “That’s no secret.” “I also happen to know that a secret meeting convened in 1825 somewhere in Turin, Northern Italy. Your aim is the empire of the world. I will help you attain your goals, but you must let me keep the financial rewards from such a proposition. You don’t want my money anyway.” “Just how in the world do you know all of that?” “I have little birds which tell me things.” Pausing Harry added, “Like I said, you can keep the souls. I will do my part to help you conquer America and place her under British & Vatican rule. All I want is the money.” “How much are you willing to donate to the cause?” “Whatever is necessary.” “It could take months to get an answer back from the Pope.” “I am aware an answer could take some time, but in all honesty, we haven’t a moment to waste. I think it would be better for you to make a decision based upon what is happening in America, then you can inform the Pope in a message. My point being; it might be better to seek forgiveness later rather than permission now.” “Okay Harry, what do you have in mind?” “If the north wins the war, and I’m banking on it, we will need a selective killing in order to further the cause of the Vatican.” “And just who is supposed to be killed?” “Abraham Lincoln.” “Do you know what you are asking?” “I know this is a tall order, but we have no choice.” “Where does the Vatican come into play?” “The Vatican has nothing to do with anything except it will be rewarded endlessly if we pull this off.” “How will that work?” “Look, killing the president right now would be a net gain of nothing, but if we can do it just as the war has been won, we have the opportunity to get every American in this country to support the monetary system I have been putting in place for years, and the Vatican can have all of the souls it wants, I just want to make money. Additionally, I will front the money for the church to build anywhere it wants to on the frontier.” “And her Majesty agrees?” “Wholeheartedly.” “What you are asking is for me to make a pact with the British Crown representing the Vatican, to carry out whatever might be necessary in order to destroy the American government.” “The Vatican could easily pick up the pieces, especially with unlimited financing. I don’t care who rules, the Crown or the Vatican.” “You just want the money.” “Just the money.” Cardinal Glen stared at Harry from across his desk. The entire idea was crazy, but Harry paid more tithes than anyone in the country, it was a well-known fact. “Alright Harry, I will make the deal with you, but I have no idea who might be used to pull this off.” “Oh yes you do, you just haven’t thought of him.” “Who,” the Cardinal asked. “John Wilkes Booth.” “Harry, you amaze me. I think you are right.” “You just keep him out of trouble until we need him.” “I will gladly keep him busy.”

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Chickasha, Oklahoma. Late 1890s.

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“No one can intimidate you unless you first give them permission to do so”

John T. Wayne

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Meet David Newsome. Ran into him this morning near That, Missouri. He knew who I was when he saw me, asked me for a book and photo opportunity. He’s a big fella.

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Meet David Newsome. Ran into him this morning near That, Missouri. He knew who I was when he saw me, asked me for a book and photo opportunity. He's a big fella.

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If a man can’t follow Gods law, what on earth makes you think he will follow man made laws?

John T. Wayne

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I just finished Showdown at Scatter Creek and I loved it

Now I just need to know which one to read next! What is your favorite novel by John T. Wayne??

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U.S. HISTORY What if everything we have been taught about the History of the United States was really a manufactured, whitewashed story to appease the masses? Is it possible that the American Revolution was never about the Union? Is it possible that the Union of the thirteen colony’s at the time of the revolution was pure coincidence? Is it possible we are still living under Martial Law today, the same Martial Law that Abe Lincoln placed us under so he could take the nation to war in 1861? What about Reconstruction, are we still being reconstructed today? Most American’s today are of the belief that the Union of the United States was created to be perpetual. The American Revolution created our national independence, on that we can all agree, but what about the union? The Union itself had no earthly association with our independence other than sharing a place in time. The union was there, but was not the catalyst from which our independence sprang. It was more of a bystander, a witness of the revolution, but not a participant.

-John T. Wayne

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"If truth won't win the argument, it's a foregone conclusion you are arguing with an idiot."

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Book Signing @ Rusty Spurs Cafe! May 6, 2018 from none-5:00pm

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History is where intelligent people gather in order to plan a prosperous future

John T. Wayne

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One of the many books that have been published.. but I can’t put this one down. Who else forces themselves to not read an entire book in one day 🤷‍♀️