My name, as you probably already know, is Stephen Helmes. That is pronounced like Helms; not Helm-ez.
   I was born in the same city in which I live today, Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia. I’ve lived in this little section of the states all of my life; venturing out and around some of the neighboring areas as I grew up, but Fort O’ is my home.
   Fort Oglethorpe isn’t a very big city, but it does fall under the moderate category. We have everything that we need within five miles of our doorstep. If we did need something that our quaint little area didn’t have to offer, we could get in our car, travel fifteen minutes north, and be in the middle of Chattanooga, Tennessee; a skip and a hop and we’re there.
   Will I live here the rest of my life? It’s hard to say. If we had a beach, looking out over the ocean, I would say yes in a tenth of a heartbeat. Being more than 350 miles from the nearest coast, a beach is something that we don’t have, at least not the kind of beach that I’m referring to; the kind where the weather is mild at its coldest and contains the five, ‘S’ words; summer sun, sea shells and sharks. Now, before you say it, I know that we have sun where I’m at, but I repeat the key words “summer sun.” Not even taking the fifteen minute trip up to Chattanooga would help us with that.
   I love all beaches. Looking out over the water as the waves roll in is like Heaven to me. It’s, not only the brilliant colors of the horizon at the beginning and the end of each day, but the way you can see forever that really attracts me. You don’t have to look up to the sky. You can look out to the sky, over the water as the earth eventually turns under and disappears, leaving nothing but infinity.
   I haven't been to many beaches. I’ve been to several different parts of Florida, east coast and west, on many occasions, and the result is always the same. When it’s time to come home, my mood always drops. It’s sad! It actually feels like a hole is growing inside me as I travel further and further from the water!
   Once I get home, I’m fine. Everything I love is here: my family, my friends and my dogs. I have a good home. Oh, but that salty air calls my name almost constantly, wanting me to come back. I am a beach bum that doesn’t live near the ocean; a fish out of water, so to speak.
   There are many of you who do not share my love for the humid, mucky, heat, the wind that not only blows your hair back, but occasionally threatens to blow your head off, and the sand that gets into the cracks of the floor, the washing machine and everything that isn’t sealed within the local bank’s vault. We’re all human and have our individual values. The beach is my passion.
   Nightly Visits is my first book. If I have my say, it will be the first of many books. I have developed a passion for the art since I have started this little project. I intend to write until my fingers will not write or type anymore. At that point, I will get a voice activated computer or hire someone to do the writing for me, while I continue to dream up stories. Then I will continue until my mind can’t think anymore. After that, I hope to have someone around to read to me, stories that others have written.