To this website, I am adding some information about my background, because I think that it is important to share information with others about some of the difficulties we face, and how  we overcome them.  I also am determined to never allow those  who attempt to bury the past as if it never happened . . . . and the guilty who not only attempt to cover their tracks but also con others into covering their tracks for them.   And to those  who have similar stories, my warmest regards, and, never  stay silent, for that is exactly  what those who abuse you want.

After thinking about the way that my biological relatives have behaved, and I decided that I would, come hell or high water, find a way to stop them from hiding all of what they have been sweeping under the rug for years. Then it occurred to me that anything out on the WWW was searchable, indexed by search engines, and, even more hilariously, left for posterity. So I decided then and there to publish all I had here on my website . . . . that ought to excite a bit the hillbillies of the family who have been trying to intimidate others to be silent . . . Read it and weep hillbillies . . .

I am original from Newaygo, Michigan.  I grew up on a 40-acre farm, just outside of the city of Newaygo.  My name at that time was Shawn Loveless, or Shawn Adair Loveless, if you include the middle name.  (You may note that I am providing names purposely so that when someone  does a search, they will find this information online.)  I changed my name because I did not want to be associated  with an abuser and those who support him.    What I know, myself, and directly experienced myself, started when I witnessed the abuse of my older brother, James Alan Taylor, who is biologically my half-brother, and luckily not the son of Jack D. Loveless, That is Jack Dale Loveless, whose last residence  was in White Cloud, Michigan, and is my biological father, and nothing more, if you get my drift.   I recall seeing my brother out in a field, with my father gripping his hand so he could not escape, going around and around while being beaten with a rope, and the aftermath of purple welts on his legs . . . the neighbors had to have known.  Kids make a lot of noise when they are being beaten that roughly.  Green tree branches substituted if a rope was not handy.   Jim's father once sent him a birthday present . . . my father burned it, rather than having given it to Jim.   When Jim left home, I became the target, as did my younger brother Kevin Loveless when I left home.   Prior to me leaving home, an incident occurred that seems to reflect some on the character of my biological father.  Having accused me of something or other, I had finally had enough and told  him I was damn tired of being accused of things I did not do.  I  was getting up there in size too, and he evidently saw me as a threat, and left me alone  from then on.  But you see that is how people who abuse  others  are . . . . they own the  heart of a coward, they only abuse people  who are vulnerable.   It was always the boys who were targeted, I will not say more than that, because I am not sure just what was REALLY going on even with his own daughters, although I have had suspicions based on one particular event that came to my knowledge.)   The marriage between him and Charlene Loveless, Maiden name Brown, her middle  name was LuFrancis.  (You can  find more information on her and other  links to the honorable  side of the family, the Browns, and  Irwins here)   Anyway, that marriage ended in divorce, but it should have happened when the first event occurred, which I will reveal from a letter that I received from my mother below.  This letter is from March 25, 1997:

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Note that in this letter my mother states that he had threatened to kill her . . . . . And that some of her own children had intimidated her into not speaking out.  At the end of the  letter  she mentions that one of those of the family has a criminal record, which is ON RECORD . . . . and  that is for manslaughter.   What those who have not experienced this craziness will find even more stunning is indeed that some  of those who were  abused by my biological father are some of his most ardent defenders.  Stockholm Syndrome, I suppose.   He should have been thrown in jail.  My mother said that she felt helpless to stop it. Given it was a different time, in the 1960's - 1970's, and even though I still harbor some doubts based on other issues, I have forgiven my mother for anything wrong she might have done. But for the one who did his best to destroy the boys of the family, who did his best to silence all dissent or criticism, I will always consider him to be unforgivable and ultimately evil to the core. What might be most surprising to anyone reading this who has not seen it, is that people like this, often put on airs of being a great parent when in public or when strangers were present at home. In fact, if any of them who had not experienced directly some of his behavior, they would be completely incredulous, and as I said, some of his very VICTIMS defend him like he is some kind of hero. I remember one of my childhood freinds talking about how mean their father was, and then they happened to witness some of my father's behavior, and said to me, "Wow, and I thought MY dad  was mean!"    When I as about fourteen, I remember my mom calling me from the bottom of the stairs, with that voice that you hear when you know you must have done something wrong. So when I appear at the top of the stairs, I see this astonished look on her face, because she did not expect me to appear. And she turns around and says "Well, it wasn't Shawn!" . . . and after the dust settled, I learned that what had happened was, my sisters had two neighbor girl friends over, and, they needed to take a shower before they went home I guess, (it was a farm), and you-know-who was window peeking. And because of the poor light, they were not sure who they saw, and I nearly was blamed for something HE did. At the age of about 14!   For any who have doubts about this incident, feel free to contact Ray Lea Schrader (Maiden Name Davis) or Kris Carlson, (Maiden name Beckman), they were the two girls involved.  Sometime after that a policeman came over and asked my mother about there being a window-peeker in the neighborhood, and she never mentioned what happened. This kind of shit you just can't make up. And he never was called to account for it by the law in any way, shape or form.   

  What prompted the publication of this information was that certain people of the Loveless family who had first implied that they would ignore mom if she revealed this information, as you can read in the letter, and one in fact claimed to be ignoring me, because I preferred telling the truth . . . . . which in fact, made me more determined than ever to get this information out on the  internet, in public . . . (Saying they were ignoring me was a bit crazy, given that I had told them before that to fuck off after mom died, due to their defence of the criminal dirbag and other hillbilly behaviors)  In fact, this is the exact message I sent:

Sent to April regarding family, shortly after mom died:
Btw I have no intentions of participating in anything whatsoever to do with the next event like this and there is no doubt in my mind that the reason Jim turned out the way that he did was because of the way he was severely abused when he was younger, I know because I was too by that sorry excuse for a father and if I happen to be listed in that old son-of-a-bitches will, he can shove it where the sun does not shine. I do not want anything from him. Also the main reason I am making this current process easy on everyone is because I want it over with because for the most part, I do not like dealing with family that for the most part are made up of people who defend that old bastard like he is some kind of fucking hero, racists and religious wacos who if they read that fucking 2000 year-old book of bull shit literally, they would have to conclude that mom went to hell. As far as I am concerned, I prefer doing without the likes of any of those aforementioned people.


In saying the "next event like this", I am referring to my father's funeral, which I sure as hell will not be around for, and the world will be a better place when he is no longer part of it.  As for the "likes of any of those aforementioned people" I mean exactly those people who "defend that old bastard like he is some kind of fucking hero, racists and religious wacos who if they read that fucking 2000 year-old book of bull shit literally, they would have to conclude that mom went to hell."   Religion is a divisive force, and I have no good reasons to accept people who do no accept me as I am, who think that they have some special place in the world that is superior to that of others.  It is just another form of prejudice, much like Zionism.

The fact that the old bastard  has never been punished or voiced any regrets to me was another reason I am speaking out.   As they say, no deed should go unpunished.   Nearly every one  of those hillbillies in the family have lied by ommission as far as I as I know, and they do their best to cover for someone who was a vile and abusive person.  This hillbilly bastard use to hack on me all the time, pick on me and call me names, and then expected that I would be  well-disposed toward him after all of that.  He would constanty criticize everything I did, as if he were perfect himself, so the way I look at it, I put up with it for nearly as far back as I can remember, and it did effect my life, and if he does not like the fact that I expose his evil deeds, all the better, I owe it to him.   There is  also another reason I publish this information.   For those of you have have been through similar things, you are not alone . . . . and the way to prevail over those who would abuse you is to first, never behave like they do, if you do, they win, and second, never allow them to keep  it secret.   No doubt my biological father had dreams of posing as an upright and honorable person . . . to anyone who  did not know otherwise, or more  importantly to his grandchildren.  That is not possible now . . . this webpage will guarantee it,  and to all those of the family who tried to cover for him, I say, WELCOME TO THE MODERN AGE, HILLBILLIES!

When I was in the US Navy,  and when I was working as an over the road truckdriver, I would often call family members, just to see how  they were doing, etc.  Then when I settled in Phoenix, Arizona, I went for a long time without calling anyone, and I began to wonder, just how long it would take before someone called me.   Three years, and when they did, they wanted something, and, after that, never . . . . and that was before I started talking about what went on!  They actually did call  when mom died, but the fact that they would behave like this tells anyone where their priorities landed.  All the more reason to tell those who hide from the truth exactly what they need to hear until they wise up and stop covering for a criminal abuser who threatened the life of my mother.

Postscript:
    When my mother sent me this letter, she mentioned to me that she specifically did not want it made known until after she died.  The  reason for that was clear . . . and stated in the letter.  But she  also said that I could feel free to do with it as I choose after she was gone . . . . perhaps she knew me well enough to know what would happen . . . She knew very well I was not one to be intimidated by threats . . . . .

Mom passed away on Aug. 12, 2012, in Grant, Michigan.  Below is a small poem she sent to me:

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“What we do in life echoes in eternity.” Maximus Decimus Meridius, from the movie Gladiator.