A gift for new readers
Hello, I am Lawson Wallace
An Author’s Bio
My name’s Lawson Wallace. I’m sixty-four years old. I live in South Carolina twenty miles outside of Columbia with my wife that I met on Facebook. After many years of dreaming of being a writer, I started writing ten years ago. I am the oldest son of an Air Force enlisted man. I graduated from high school on Yokota Air Force Base Fussa Japan.
I was a life-long bachelor until I started talking to a woman on Facebook. She was living in South Carolina while I was living in Minneapolis. We started talking in 2014. We met for the first time when she flew to Minneapolis to meet me in 2016.
I moved to South Carolina in February of 2017. We were married on September 10th, 2017. I am on disability so I have lots of time to write on Medium and post on Social Media.
Here are Three Stories for you to enjoy:
I was working as a security guard in Florida when the long-suppressed urge to write could no longer be contained. I wrote about the start of my writing journey and submitted it to “The Writing Cooperative.” A prominent MEdium Publication. It was accepted on the first try.
I Had Wanted to Write, Working at Bus Terminals Inspired Me to Do That
The beginning of an ongoing journey
It was a hot afternoon in Clearwater, Florida. I was working my security guard job at the County Transit bus Terminal. I checked the men’s room.
There was a man on the filthy, urine-soaked floor who passed out. I called 911. I watched as the paramedics and police officers did their thing. the paramedics put the man in an ambulance.
I watched as the ambulance left, and then I went to the janitor’s closet to write the incident report. After I wrote the official report, I reached for my notebook and wrote about what happened.
I have always wanted to be a writer
I had the secret dream of being a writer for as long as I can remember. I never had the confidence to write. It took a long time for me to believe I could do it.
It all started because of Facebook and the iPhone. I was watching the weirdness one afternoon. When I thought it would be fun to give a blow-by-blow description of what I was seeing.
I had readers all over the world following what was going on
I would give a running commentary on the goings-on at the terminal. I had followers from all over the world following along and commenting.
After a few weeks, I bought a notebook and kept a journal. I would post on Facebook, then I would write in more detail in my notebook.
I would go home and write a fictional story based on the real events I watched every shift. I enjoyed myself, and I acquired some discipline, but it wasn’t enough.
It was a mess, and I knew it
I had taken a computer class, where I learned the basics of MS Office. When I got home from my shift I would write for a few hours.
What I lacked in knowledge of the craft of writing, I made up with lots of enthusiasm. I was writing garbage, and I knew it. I would try to teach myself.
I bought books on writing and I tried to apply what I learned, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t get discouraged. I kept writing. I continued to write after I was assigned away from the terminals.
The midnight shift where I was being paid to write
I was back on the midnight shift. I would take my laptop to work and write most of the night, I even wrote when I became homeless.
After the shelter threw us out at six in the morning. I would find someplace to hang out until 9:00 A.M. I was in Minneapolis in the winter.
I wrote to stay awake and to avoid being hassled by security
I had a lot of time to write. I wrote for two years, I wasn’t spinning my wheels, I was learning that I didn’t know squat about writing. My real education came when I escaped Minneapolis. I moved to Columbia South Carolina.
I moved to South Carolina to be with a woman I had met on Facebook. She knew how I loved to write. She paid the tuition for me to take an online writing course.
I learned so much, and my Instructors thought I had talent
A whole new world opened for me. I learned the basics of fiction writing. The instructors made comments on how talented I was. My grammar and punctuation needed work.
I finished the course with good grades on my stories and newfound confidence. My wife had been after me to write a story about how we met.
I still haven’t finished my memoir
I started writing our story. I was working on that when I heard about Medium. The greatest thing I did when I joined Medium was to apply to be a writer for Illumination.
The Illumination editors worked with me. My writing improved with every submission. I listened to the editors, and it wasn’t long before I had a mentor.
The mentor taught me a lot. My reads and earnings increased. After some time, my mentor and I parted ways, but another writer offered his services.
Being teachable has brought me a long way
As I did with my first mentor, I listened and learned. My reads and earnings climbed. I had such a good rapport with the editors that the owner of the publication invited me to join the editing team.
I have learned so much by editing other writers’ work. I had to learn patience, not all writers are as cooperative as I am with editors.
The learning never ends
I am learning what works, and what doesn’t work when it comes to writing. It is an ongoing process. I have come a long way from the tired and cynical security guard I was ten years ago.
I’m achieving my goals by listening and learning and writing a lot. These are the only learning hacks that work.
Submit, listen and learn
It’s impossible to learn in a vacuum. Submit your work and listen to the editors. I built good relationships and I remain teachable. These two traits will help you succeed.
It’s never too late, so start writing
I was in my forties before I began to write. It’s never too late. Buy a notebook and start writing. Find mentors and learn from them. Be receptive and patient.
You will achieve your goal.
Two Years ago, I wanted to try something different, something that was out of character for me. I started a Youtube channel. Originally, it was a way to promote my writing, but it has grown into something much bigger. It’s fun, but at times it’s scary.
I Had Wanted to Write, Working at Bus Terminals Inspired Me to Do That
The beginning of an ongoing journey
It was a hot afternoon in Clearwater, Florida. I was working my security guard job at the County Transit bus Terminal. I checked the men’s room.
There was a man on the filthy, urine-soaked floor who passed out. I called 911. I watched as the paramedics and police officers did their thing. the paramedics put the man in an ambulance.
I watched as the ambulance left, then I went to the janitor’s closet to write the incident report. After I wrote the official report, I reached for my notebook and wrote about what happened.
I have always wanted to be a writer
I had the secret dream of being a writer for as long as I can remember. I never had the confidence to write. It took a long time for me to believe I could do it.
It all started because of Facebook and an iPhone. I was watching the weirdness one afternoon. When I thought it would be fun to give a blow-by-blow description of what I was seeing.
I had readers all over the world following what was going on
I would give a running commentary on the goings-on at the terminal. I had followers from all over the world following along and commenting.
After a few weeks, I bought a notebook and kept a journal. I would post on Facebook, then I would write in more detail in my notebook.
I would go home and write a fictional story based on the real events I watched every shift. I enjoyed myself, and I acquired some discipline, but it wasn’t enough.
It was a mess, and I knew it
I had taken a computer class, where I learned the basics of MS Office. When I got home from my shift I would write for a few hours.
What I lacked in knowledge of the craft of writing, I made up with lots of enthusiasm. I was writing garbage, and I knew it. I would try to teach myself.
I bought books on writing and I tried to apply what I learned, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t get discouraged. I kept writing. I continued to write after I was assigned away from the terminals.
The midnight shift where I was being paid to write
I was back on the midnight shift. I would take my laptop to work and write most of the night, I even wrote when I became homeless.
After the shelter threw us out at six in the morning. I would find someplace to hang out until 9:00 A.M. I was in Minneapolis in the winter.
I wrote to stay awake and to avoid being hassled by security
I had a lot of time to write. I wrote for two years, I wasn’t spinning my wheels, I was learning that I didn’t know squat about writing. My real education came when I escaped Minneapolis. I moved to Columbia South Carolina.
I moved to South Carolina to be with a woman I had met on Facebook. She knew how I loved to write. She paid the tuition for me to take an online writing course.
I learned so much, and my Instructors thought I had talent
A whole new world opened for me. I learned the basics of fiction writing. The instructors made comments on how talented I was. My grammar and punctuation needed work.
I finished the course with good grades on my stories and newfound confidence. My wife had been after me to write a story about how we met.
I still haven’t finished my memoir
I started writing our story. I was working on that when I heard about Medium. The greatest thing I did when I joined Medium was to apply to be a writer for Illumination.
The Illumination editors worked with me. My writing improved with every submission. I listened to the editors, and it wasn’t long before I had a mentor.
The mentor taught me a lot. My reads and earnings increased. After some time, my mentor and I parted ways, but another writer offered his services.
Being teachable has brought me a long way
As I did with my first mentor, I listened and learned. My reads and earnings climbed. I had such a good rapport with the editors that the owner of the publication invited me to join the editing team.
I have learned so much by editing other writers’ work. I had to learn patience, not all writers are as cooperative as I am with editors.
The learning never ends
I am learning what works, and what doesn’t work when it comes to writing. It is an ongoing process. I have come a long way from the tired and cynical security guard I was ten years ago.
I’m achieving my goals by listening and learning and writing a lot. These are the only learning hacks that work.
Submit, listen and learn
It’s impossible to learn in a vacuum. Submit your work and listen to the editors. I built good relationships and I remain teachable. These two traits will help you succeed.
It’s never too late, so start writing
I was in my forties before I began to write. It’s never too late. Buy a notebook and start writing. Find mentors and learn from them. Be receptive and patient.
You will achieve your goal.
Two years ago, I decided to get out of my comfort zone and do something different, so I started a YouTube Channel. The growth of the channel surprised me. I wanted to use it to promote my writing, but it has changed into something else entirely.
My Unexpected Success on YouTube Has Given Me the Courage to Dream Bigger
Despite my constraints, how I gained over 20K subscribers in a year and coming to a stage near you
I’m a 64-year-old guy with some chronic health issues, including dyslexia. I was also homeless once. In an inspiring moment, back on July 7th, 2022, I sat down with my old Surface Pro, turned on the webcam, and started messing around with making videos.
That first YouTube video? Well, let’s say it was rough — at least in my head. But I kept playing around, and then things got serious. A year later, after posting many videos and gaining some subscribers, YouTube allowed me to monetize my channel. It was a dream come true.
Right now, I have 29,300 subscribers. YouTube sets the monetization bar high, but I could’ve hit it sooner if I’d really focused. They want us to have 500 subscribers, some good videos, and a bunch of views on Shorts. I passed all those barriers one step at a time with patience and determination.
However, something unusual happened earlier this year. My channel was blowing up in January 2024 — over 2 million views of a story. Going viral is something special and should be celebrated, so I bragged about it to my wife and some friends. Of course, they wanted the secret. Turns out, there isn’t one.
The trick is to make a ton of content. I take my Medium stories, talk about them on camera, and then post links to the story and my channel. I even use a free indexing tool that helps people find my videos on Google.
It’s smart to keep your content friendly for everyone so you don’t offend anyone. Your videos have to follow certain rules—mostly common sense stuff like avoiding hate speech and nudity.
Bad language has to be mentioned upfront. Your video might not get taken down, but it could get an adult rating, hurting views and income. I’ve had one outright rejected and a few restricted. I try to keep it clean.
Now, here’s the good stuff in my book: YouTube really pays!
Like anything online, there are good months and slower ones, but it’s all good in my book. My goal has always been to have fun. Frankly, I’m having a blast on YouTube. More importantly, I feel like I’m making a difference in people’s lives.
Interaction with some subscribers is fun. My fans call me “Uncle Lawson” or “Pops.” It’s awesome that so many young guys, mostly teens and twenties, like what I’ve got to say! I try to read and answer as many comments as I can. Conversations with my subscribers delight me.
Then this crazy thing happened. I got a YouTube notification — someone featured a clip of one of my videos on their channel! I was worried about copyright stuff, but it was totally cool. Two guys were reacting to my video and being funny about it, but not mean at all.
Best part? They put a link to my channel in their description. Loved that because they brought me new subscribers. Honestly, it means the world to me that people are into my videos enough to talk about them. Never in a million years did I think that would happen.
I like mixing my writing and videos to grow my audience. For example, my editor friend Aiden advised me to shortform my videos and send them to his publication called Videos and Podcasts on this platform. It works.
Earlier this year, I read a great book called “On Good Authority” by Anna David. That chapter on podcasts stuck with me. So now, my new goal is to be a guest on a podcast. I know I’ve got something to say, and I’m not bad at talking. I took speech classes in college and even did a Dale Carnegie course (terrifying, by the way). I know I could rock a podcast if it was the right fit.
Now, my next bucket list item is scarier — I want to do a TED Talk! Some friends think it is a big goal. It may be, but I’ve been trying to figure out how to practice. Then it hit me — just use my Surface Pro like I do for YouTube. Only, I’ll be standing and moving around like they do on the TED stage.
I’m good at one thing for sure — talking and writing. I plan to transfer these skills to my future goals. There’s no reason this can’t happen. Even if it doesn’t, what do I lose? The point is to try new things and keep it fun!
Now What My Story Means for You
Never stop dreaming, and never stop trying. I won’t let age or disability hold me back. I’m 64, and I’m making up for lost time, learning, and growing with every new experience.
Life throws curveballs, but if it doesn’t work out, so what? The important part is trying to become a better version of yourself.
We all deserve to chase our dreams. If you’ve faced struggles or setbacks, it’s time to break free and go for it! The worst feeling is regret — don’t let it catch up with you. You’re never too old or young to start. As long as you’re breathing, you can make it happen.
Here’s how I use Medium and YouTube together. I turn my Medium stories into videos, adding links to the original story and my channel. Want to see what’s resonating with people? Check out these top five videos that might inspire you:
- The Painful Truth About My High School Years: Maybe your school days weren’t easy either. We can connect over shared experiences. This one’s been huge!
- Dyslexia and Success — What Sets Them Apart: For all of us who learn differently, this one explores what can help us thrive.
- Brain Damaged — When Labels Do More Harm: Childhood labels can linger. Let’s talk about overcoming them.
- The Homeless and Jobs — My Honest Answer: Homelessness is complex. I bring my own experience to the conversation.
Inspiring Tips for My Readers
- Own Your Story: Your past, your struggles, your unique perspective — it all matters. Sharing your truth can resonate with others in ways you never expect.
- Don’t Be Afraid to Experiment: Try new platforms (like video!), play with different formats, and see what sparks a connection with your audience.
- Embrace the Unexpected: Sometimes, your most surprising content hits a nerve and takes off. Lean into those moments.
- Keep it Real: Authenticity shines through online. Be yourself, be honest, and keep the conversation going.
Thank you for reading my story. I’d love to read your story too.
Subscribe to my profile to get my stories in your email.
I was a security guard in Florida for twenty years. I still think of this assignment twenty years after the job ended. It was a scary place to work, but the action and stress were addicting. This was the first Medium story that was successful.
I Worked the Largest Low-Income Community in St. Petersburg
It was Fun
Graham/ Rogall is still with me. Every once in a while, I will have a flashback.
I sat at the guard desk at the largest public housing complex in St. Petersburg, Florida. I hated working the desk. I did my best to keep up with my report as I monitored the chaos around me.
“ I can’t wait to go on patrol,” I thought as the smoke alarm went off. I noted the apartment number and called the resident.
“ Open your windows. Do not open your door.” I was lucky that time. The resident did what I told him to do.
There was a non-stop stream of visitors. They all had to be carded. No one was allowed to come in unless they had a State or Federal picture I.D. They also had to be checked against an extensive list of trespassed individuals.
I hated working at the desk. I nodded and smiled when my partner finished and it was my turn to go on patrol.
I made sure I had my pen and notebook, then off I went. There was a chain grocery store across the street. The residents would fill their carts. They would bring the groceries home and leave the empty carts in the hallway.
For some reason, it pissed off the Fire Marshall. One of my guard duties was to get the carts downstairs.
I sent the carts down the elevator. They would work their way to the lobby, sent down by me or a resident. We would send them down to the lower floor. As I walked down the fire escape, I wondered why it was necessary for residents to piss there instead of in their apartment.
I would follow trails of blood, wondering if anyone had died. There was a lobby on each floor. I came up short one evening when I saw a man wearing nothing but his dirty underpants.
He was on all fours howling like a wolf. I took out my radio and told my partner where I was and asked him to call 911.
I waited while the paramedics came and took the guy to the hospital. When the paramedics left with their patient, I resumed my patrol.
I catch a whiff of an unusual odor. It’s not crack. Crack smells like burning tar. I was smelling something sickly sweet.
The air currents dissipated the smell. I kept walking. I found out a few days later what the smell was.
The residents had to report to security every morning. We had to know if they were alive. Every afternoon a guard would take the list of the no-shows, get the keys and check every apartment of those who didn’t report.
When the resident was alive, he was white and he must have weighed four or five hundred pounds. When we found him he was as black as charcoal.
The captain asked me to stand by the open apartment door while the cops processed the scene. I now knew what the sickly sweet smell was.
It’s something I will never forget.
I stood in the hallway for several minutes when one of the officers asked if I wanted a closer look. At first, I declined. But curiosity got the best of me.
“ What’s with the goo?” I asked. I looked at the stuff all over the floor and all over my shoes.
“ As the flesh breaks down, the fluids have to go somewhere.” The officer answered. My shoes were soaked in bodily fluids. I talked to the cops a few minutes more, then I went back to the doorway.
How did the guy lie in his room dead long enough to decompose? We did tab checks, that’s when security gets the keys and looks for the residents who didn’t check-in.
Security blew the tab check.
I hated working at the desk. I was alone while the other guard was on patrol. The residents and their visitors scared me.
“ I can’t let you in unless you have a picture I.D and I have to call up and announce you,” I said to the angry man in front of me. He called me every foul name he could think of with his limited vocabulary.
He gave up and left the building. I was lucky, they usually didn’t go that easily.
The smoke alarms would go off continuously. I would call the resident if they hadn’t called me first. If we couldn’t get an answer, we would have to get the key and check the room.
One evening an alarm went off. I got the key and checked the room. The guy had put a couple of steaks in the oven to broil. He then forgot they were in the oven and went out to party.
I unlocked the apartment and turned off the oven.
None of the residents could cook worth a damn. Every night around dinner time, the smoke detectors ran none stop.
The first of the month was the hardest time to work there. Most of the residents were being treated by the Psychiatric Hospital. Every day an orderly would arrive to dispense anti-psychotic drugs.
Everyone got their Welfare money on the first. The prescription drugs interfered with the heroin and crack and booze. So they would go off their meds.
We called the cops often.
I almost didn’t make it through my first week, but a funny thing happened. I decided to stick it out. I wanted to challenge myself.
I worked my way up to Sargent, then Lieutenant. A young man I trained was promoted to captain. I threatened to quit if they tried to promote me.
A few months later, the new captain had a nervous breakdown and was committed. My supervisor was concerned about me. I was close to breaking.
I was assigned somewhere else.
Twenty years later, I still dream about that place. It’s gone now. It’s torn down and replaced by condos or apartments.
I learned a lot about myself. I can be tough but at a steep price. I like the mellow me better.
The job started out to be terrifying, but soon it was like a drug. I couldn’t wait to go to work. The excitement was intoxicating. I would go home and be wound up for hours.
But then it quit being fun. I was afraid to go on my rounds. I hated dealing with people at the desk.
I was afraid all the time. I didn’t look back when I was re-assigned.
I think about the residents, Graham/Rogall is gone. The residents have been placed somewhere else. I’m glad it’s gone, but I wonder about the residents I met. I hope they are well.
Graham/ Rogall was fun until it wasn’t.
Invitation to writers: How to become a writer for the Health and Science publication on Medium.com
I am an editor of the Health and Science publication owned by Dr Michael Broadly, a retired health scientist and healthcare consultant. You are welcome to join this publication to publish your relevant articles. Here is the link submission guidelines. Dr Broadly also shares the distilled versions of stories from the publication on Substack via his newsletter Health Science Research By Dr Mike Broadly. Writer inquiries for all ILLUMINATION publications are via this portal. Please send your Medium ID.
Thanks, Dr Broadly, for introducing me on Medium.com to readers.
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