In the United States today, few lifestyles are as intriguing as that of the Italian Mafioso. Whether seen in popular television shows like "The Sopranos" or "Growing Up Gotti", or im¬mortalized in gritty crime films like "The God¬father" or "Goodfellas", the idea of a life of Power, Privilege, and Total Respect is often romanticized by young and old alike. How¬ever, only those who have been inside the in¬ner circle of the "Teflon Don" can know what a dark place all the fame and fortune can take you to. A place where no amount of money or power can stop the anger burning inside you. An anger that stems from years and years of abuse, hurt and heartache, and leaves only the hardened callous shell of a man bound for Hell without Divine Intervention.

I am Frank William Bower Jr. I was born March 10, 1960 into an old Italian family in Staten Island, New York. My father, Frank Sr., was a Marine stationed on the Staten Island Ferry, and my mother Virginia was a stay at home mom to me and my two younger brothers and twin sisters. It was the time where no one locked their doors and everyone knew everyone else on the street for miles down. Though it sounds very ideal, my childhood was turbulent from the start. From the age of three all the way to seven, my maternal grandfather routinely molested me. Not having a strong relation¬ship with my father, and being too ashamed to tell my mother, I kept the abuse a secret for years. I found sol¬ace in my younger siblings, shielding them from the perversion that was inflicted on me. Then in 1967, my safe haven fell apart. Awakened by my mother's blood chilling scream I found many police officers swarming about the house. My four year old twin sisters, Teresa and Margaret, had been abducted from their beds while everyone slept. I watched my mother slowly fade, as everyday held no news of the twins. Trapped in her anguish for her lost daughters, she withdrew from our family completely, making me feel even more alone. Not knowing what else to do, my dad made a command decision to move our shaken family to Florida, and in 1968 we said goodbye to Staten Island and hello to St. Petersburg, Florida. Unsure of what else to do to help mom cope, dad thought adopting a baby might help her come out of her grief. Later that year, they adopted a one day old baby girl they named Michelle. Due in part to the stress of losing the twins, my mother never really bonded with my new baby sister. I was now eight years old, and was given the responsibility of caring for Michelle. She became like my own little girl, and it helped me to have the unconditional love that she provided. I started to feel safe again, and even though my father was still abusive and mom was still distant, Michelle made life bearable. Tragically, her young life was cut short when on Father's Day in 1973, little Michelle drowned in the backyard pool. My brother Vince and I pulled her out and tried to revive her, but she was already gone. As I held her lifeless body in my arms I felt like it was me who had died, and an anger began to form in my heart. Where was God? After Michelle's death, my parents marriage that was already hanging by a thread completely fell apart. They divorced, and mom left for good, leaving me again feeling abandoned, alone and angry with God. Again, Where was God? And why did He let every woman in my life abandon me? Now having problems in school and getting into fights regu¬larly, I channeled all my anger into boxing and martial arts. Even though I was barely a teenager, I poured all my emotions into sports, mastering the art of Tae Kwon Do. Still, I felt like there was a huge hole in my heart. I missed my mom, I missed the three sisters I had lost, and desperately wanted to feel like part of a family again.

After graduation, I left St. Petersburg and took a job with the Laborers Union in Crystal River. The Union was like an entry level position for future mobsters. There the higher level bosses could cherry pick the men that showed potential, loyalty, strength, and obviously a tendency to walk on the wild side. During this time, I met a young girl named Lynne, who was also originally from New York. I thought settling down might give me some stability, so we were married in 1980. Though briefly happy, the union did not provide me with the security I thought it would. I had now established connections with several important mob families, and was often involved in drug running and money laundering. My career was finally taking off, I again felt a longing for the sisters I had lost. Maybe a baby would fill the whole in my heart, In 1982, Lynne gave birth to our daughter, Brianne. It was amazing how Brianne became like a bright star in my dark existence. It was unbelievable how I could be so cold and heartless during the day, and then come home to my baby daughter and feel again. Though my marriage was still rocky, I felt like there was hope for a better future. Finally, I had a woman in my life who would always be there, even if she was, only a baby.

I was just starting to rebuild my once shattered faith in God, when the bottom dropped out again. Doing cigar runs for the family, I frequently flew out of Mi¬ami and in and out of Cuba trafficking cigars into the country. During a routine run, two of my men and I were ambushed by some guys who thought we were smuggling drugs, they thought we would be an easy mark. They had no idea who we were, or they never would have attempted it. I shot one of them and was charged with murder. After the trial I ended up on Florida's death row. As my life flashed before my eyes, I thought about my daughter, at least she would be there for me, if I won the appeal that the family was working on for me. After a few months, and tens of thousands of dollars, we got our break . My attorneys came up with some evidence that got my charges overturned and I was taken off death row and eventually released. During my time on death row, prison and the subsequent investigation that followed, my wife had become fed up with my life of crime and the drama that came with it and filed for divorce. The custody battle over Brianne got nasty, and I knew that no judge in America would ever take a baby away from a good mother and give it to a convicted felon, no matter how much I loved or cared for her. I could do nothing but watch as Lynne eventually packed Brianne up and moved away. Though I tried at first, communication was eventually cut off and it would be eleven long years before I would see or speak to my daughter again. Of all the losses I had suffered in my life, this was the most unbearable. I threw myself into my work, trying to forget the pain of losing my daughter. It seemed like every woman I loved was taken from me somehow, and the anger at God came rushing back again.

Now working full time for John Gotti, I became even more ruthless and aggressive. Because of all the anger that drove me, I had mastered five different styles of martial arts and had become physically the strongest man in the mob family I was associated with. In 1986, I met Tina, a strong Christian woman from Minnesota. She always tried to encourage me to pray, or talk to God about the problems in my life, and I always refused. Where was God when my twin sisters were kidnapped? Where was He when my baby sister died in my arms? Where was He when my mom left us, and when my daughter was taken from me? Despite our differences in faith, we fell in love and were married in 1987. Although I denied her constant efforts to get me right with the Lord, Tina kept begging God and praying that I would have a life changing God encounter. While pregnant with our first child, she also prayed that our baby would have a safe, secure life. Her prayers were answered quickly, though not in the way she imagined. In 1988,1 was sent back to prison on another serious assault charge. Tina gave birth to our daughter, Brittney, while I was in prison. Though this was the most difficult time in her life, Tina knew that she loved me and wanted to stand by me. Thanks in part to my mob connections, I was re¬leased in five months. I moved my family to Minnesota, promising her we would get a fresh start. All the while knowing that I was going to move up in the family. Because of my reputation, around 1988 I became one of John Gotti's personal bodyguards, accompanying him on trips and meetings. I was quickly rising towards the top, and I was known to get the job done at any cost. This made me an invaluable asset, and I was compensated accordingly. I continued working with the mob, using the car business as a front. In 1992,1 moved my wife and kids to Florida, making it easier for me to work covertly. Now an enforcer, I was in charge of a multi-million dollar gambling ring that stretched across Florida and in to Alabama. I flew out every Friday to collect on debts, and returned home Monday night. Though the money was flowing in, our home life was in complete disarray. For Tina, no sum of money, cars or material things could make up for the constant turmoil surrounding us. By this time we had a daughter and two sons, and every day I was showing more hatred and anger. My wife knew it was time for a big change. Little did she know, change was coming not just for me, but for the whole crime family.

In March 1992, Salvatore "Sammy The Bull" Gravano, a notorious crime boss responsible for over 400 murders, turned states evidence on "The Dapper Don" John Gotti. John was sentenced in June of that same year to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Most of the other bosses and their affiliates were either facing life sentences or had fled the country. The mob dissipated, leaving me and the others who had served unfailingly in a state of chaos. I became extremely paranoid and tense, not knowing if I was going to be implicated. The only thing that calmed my nerves were the drugs and alcohol I consumed. I once again felt like I had lost my family after John Gotti went to prison. I had found safety and security in my work. Once again, my life had been turned upside down. Tina saw me getting worse by the day, and knew she had to act fast before the man she loved was gone for good . I came home early one morning after a long night of drinking and using to an unimaginable sight. Covering the dining room table were all of my guns, UZI's, GLOCK's, MAC-ll's, AK's even a BAZOOKA. That's how whacked out I was. Thousands of dollars in cash, even my stash of drugs. At first I thought I was dreaming, as Tina sat there quite calmly. She said to me, "Choose Frank, the table, or the children and I". I laughed it off, thinking this was just another one of her attempts to shape me up. After all, what was she complaining about? I had given her every thing she wanted, money, cars, a beautiful home. Once I realized this time she was serious, I lashed out. "Get the hell out, if you don't like it!"

The next day Tina packed up our three kids and was gone. She went home to Minnesota and began diligently praying to God for help. She wanted her husband back, but she knew I was spiritually dead, and that only a miracle could save me. Everyday she would call, and ask me to get help. Sinking deeper into my pit of despair, drunk and strung out, I would just scream at her and hang up. She was just another woman gone, story of my life. Tina never stopped praying, and it was just a matter of time before God got a hold of me. People can only fall so far before they hit rock bottom, and I was falling fast!

Strolling in around 7:00 pm one night, I found my dog sick on the porch. I called the veterinarian, who told me to bring my Rottweiler in immediately. In our conversation, the subject of Tina and the kids came up, and I quickly told him that it was over, she had taken the kids and left. The Vet was very upset, and tried to convince me to call Tina and coax her into coming back. I just scoffed at that, and asked him how his family was doing in an effort to change the subject. "My wife died yesterday", the doctor said sadly. What could I say to a guy who had just lost his wife and was walling to come down and take care of my dog before his wife was buried. I had not cried for 19 years and didn't want to start now, so I quickly changed the subject, "Your son doing okay?" I said, "My son died two weeks ago." he said. I was stunned and offered my condolences. The vet finished his exam on my dog, concluding it had been poisoned. As I was getting ready to leave, the doctor asked if he could pray for me. I was speechless, this man just lost his whole fam¬ily, but he wants to pray for me? I told him to save his prayers for someone else, that God had never done anything for me, and I didn't want anything to do with God. "I'll pray for you anyway", the vet promised. I drove home more somber then usual. I didn't know how to process everything I was feeling. As I was pulling into my house, I could tell something was not right. I very quietly slipped into the yard, and caught two men trying to break into the house. I knew they were responsible for poisoning my dog, to keep me away indefinitely. I beat, and duct taped the intruders, then loaded them in the back of my truck. I grabbed a gun and headed out to the woods, planning nothing more then a gruesome death for the unlucky hoodlums. Once we were in the forest, I let them out and set them up execution style, sitting on their knees. As I put the gun to the back of one guys head and prepared to pull the trigger, it dawned on me just how low I had gotten. A ruthless, heartless, cold blooded killer. Something in me broke, and I left them there ducted taped, but alive and drove back to my house. That night I hit rock bottom. While drinking profusely, I began to do crazy things. I fired shots into the ceiling, started breaking plates and cups, and even stuck a pistol in my mouth and began to play "Russian Roulette". I no longer cared if I lived or died. Why should I, when everything good in my life was gone. Around 1:00 a.m., I passed out in the living room in a drunken haze. At 2:30 on the dot, I woke up gasping for air. A shadowy being was choking me, it picked me up off the couch, and hurled me to the floor. "Change your ways, or DIE!", the figure growled, then disappeared. I thought I was hallucinating and going insane, I called my brother. He told me it was probably the drugs and alcohol, I hung up and went back to sleep. At 4:30 a.m., it happened again. The same shadowy figure grabbed me by the throat, lifted me off the couch and tossed me to the ground like a rag doll . "Change your ways or DIE!", the voice said again. This time I knew I wasn't imagining things! I grabbed my gun and ran outside, spending the rest of the night on the front lawn on the swing. Early the next morning the phone rang, and it was Tina, checking in. "Are you ready to change your ways, Frank?", she asked. Hearing those exact words from my wife set me off! I started Screaming obscenities at her and accusing her of do¬ing voodoo on me, I hung up the phone. Confused by my actions, Tina called back and I broke down and told her of the events of last night, and of my encounter with the shadowy intruder. She knew her prayers had finally been answered. As we talked, I told her I needed some time to think. As I reflected on the situa¬tion, and on the past experiences in my life, I realized for the first time ever, I was being given the opportu-nity to change my course. The other women I had lost in my life were beyond my control, but I was now given the chance to salvage my life with Tina and the kids. At that point, for the first time in my life, I cried out to God for help. And my prayers did not go unan¬swered. Tina found a support group that helped me come into a personal relationship with God, and rehabilitate me. Not just religion, but really finding myself in the Lord. After all the changes that had taken place, Tina and I felt that God was calling us to help wounded people, like I had been. The Family Prayer Center Rehab was born, and today we help men and women in similar situations get right with God and take their lives back. I am proud to say Tina and I have been married for 21 years. We are as much in love today as the day we met. My relationship with my mother has been restored, another miracle God did was in my relationship with my grandfather. For the first six or seven years after I had become a Christian, I was continually asking God to deliver me of the hatred I had for my grandfather. I continually asked God to help me forgive him and to be able to walk in the forgiveness that I was preaching to other people. I would forgive him and then talk with someone who had been sexually molested, and all the old feelings would come back, and I would be trying to figure out a way to kill him. Then the day came that my grandfather called me and said grandma only had a few hours to live, he asked me to come over and see her. While on was on my way there, I was devising a plan to kill my grandfather. When I walked into their house, he directed my to the bedroom where grandma was, I was shocked to see her only 50 or 60 pounds and so close to death. I picked her up in my arms and began to sing to her. (Hold on, helps a comin') As she smiled and passed away in my arms I heard uncontrollable sobbing behind me, it was my grandfather. I put grandma down on the bed and went to my grandfather and took him in my arms and held him while he wept. At that moment God did a miracle and I was able to let go of all the un-forgiveness and bitterness that I had held in for almost 40 years. What an awesome God we serve. Another miracle that he did for me was that a missing piece of my heart has been returned. My first daughter Brianne is back in my life and at 25, she is every bit the Daddy's Girl she was when she was young. We are not only Father-Daughter, but Best Friends as well. God restored our relationship 100 fold. In 2006, Brie and her husband made me a Grandfather for the first time, "Grandpa's Boy", J.R. was born in May. I can now honestly say " I am Blessed".

If after reading my story you would like to experience the love, forgiveness and healing I did I would like to invite you to pray this prayer:

If you prayed that prayer, please go tell someone. Jesus said, "If you confess me before men, I will confess you before my Father in heaven, but if you deny me before men, I will deny you before my Father in heaven." It took a long time, but I eventually realized that all the horrible things I blamed God for, wasn't really God at all. The Bible says, "The devil comes to steal, kill and destroy". With this in mind, embrace the Lord! Let Him lift you up when you are at the bottom. His word gives us this promise, if He did it for me, Frank Bower, He will do it for YOU!!

You can contact Pastor Frank by writing to:
Family Prayer Center Rehab
3318 N. County Rd. 4136
Overton, TX 75684