Creator to Creators S4 Ep 40 Johnny Newell - a podcast by M.V.B Films Productions

https://www.amazon.com/Silas-Monday PUrchase today

Johnny Newell D.O.B 03/12/1963, Author, Christian Counselor, Master Life Coach,
Minister, Photographer. Dad to Amanda, John, Daniel, Rachel, and two bonus
Children Josh and Delray. Papaw to John Wesley, Noah, Ethan, Jonah, Amelia, and
Addy.
Hi, I’m Johnny Newell, I am a sixty-year-old Spina Bifida survivor, (God delivered
me from it) baby of the family and only son of Johnnie T. and Josie Newell. Papa
was born in 1899 and was 63 when I was born and mama was 40. Mama had a
stroke while delivering me and was never the same afterwards.
I was born with Spina Bifida, but few knew what that was in the early and mid
60’s, I was mis-diagnosed as having Polio at one point and the word spread
through our little town like wildfire! I remember that people feared us because
Polio was contagious (but only through contact with that person’s fecal matter) I
remember that we would be in town on Saturday and people would see us
coming and walk on the side of the street because they thought I was contagious!
They would call us “White trash and curse us too.
When I was 10, I went to Shriner’s hospital for crippled Children in Shreveport
La. Where they too mis-diagnosed me, this time as having Cerebral Palsy, but they
did some corrective surgery that changed my life. I was left with a noticable limp
but that pretty much took care of my mobility issues, most importantly I wasn’t
contagious anymore!
Mama taught me to read when I was 3 and since we lived 27 miles from
nowhere, by the time I was 6 I had read everything we had to read, so I started to
write. Because of how my mama brought those characters in the Bible and the
classics to life, writing came easy for me because I knew each and every Character
in my stories, right down to their shoe size! I knew what they looked like the
sound of their voices, even how their perfume smelled.
I got my call to preach when I was 13 but I ran from it because I was
ashamed of being poor. All the preachers I knew had good clothes, cars and
homes. I had none of this, I was just a poor “White trash”boy that lived in a shack
at the bottom of hill on a dead-end road 27 miles from nowhere. But God, sought
me out and told me to write!
On hot summer day my wife Katrina was sharing an interesting story with me
about how slave owners used to misuse the Bible to keep the slaves in line. As
she commented on how wrong this was, a story was unfolding in my mind about a
Mammoth of a man who hated everyone black and white alike became one of the
greatest preachers of his time and thus “Silas Monday” was born!Cre

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