There are probably less then half a dozen people alive today who know what you are about to read . Now for the first time that number will rise .

You are about to read the one secret which I have had to personally bear on a daily basis since it’s conception . Some of the verbiage below has been taken from the manuscript His Blood Runs Through Me .

The month was January , the year 1991 . My first son was about to see his first birthday , the NY Giants had just beat the Buffalo Bills 20 to 19 to win Super Bowl XXV and Eastern Airlines closed business after 62 years . The morning air that day was particularly warm , the kind of day that reminded of being a kid eagerly awakening early to go fishing.

I had been holding my son Shawn Thomas as we walked along where the dew covered plants lined the walk . There we would touch each plant to feel the textures and my son would laugh as the wet leaves would splash the dew back at him .

I had been enjoying the father son bonding , the smell of my son and the laughter from my son as he touched each plant and the deep warm feeling from the sun hitting my face as the sun was rising for another day on the job .

I mention the sun because not only had it been gloomy for so many weeks and of course the sun is a great relief to most anybody after such a stint but as I stood there holding my child , the sun itself seemed to bring me to a state of deep personal thought , a thought that would soon change the lives of more people then I could ever imagine .

After decades of segregation I felt at that moment compelled , almost driven to correct the state of affairs for which the conditions of have plagued the day to day existence of my own life .

For so many years I had put the welfare of so many before my own

only to be spit upon by the very people whom I had been protecting .

Though not at first but after I had found out about my father this had been my choice . I now was a father , my life had changed , it was my responsibility to my son to give my son the things I felt he needed along with those things I never had , his namesake was one of those and it was at the top of the list .

So it was decided , right there , at that moment , the time was now to contact my father . Weather he wanted to know me or not was not the issue ,,,,he owed me my name .

Looking back on my life I recall often feeling as though I were the modern day version of the man in the iron mask combined with 40 percent of the man without a country . I had a father who was looked upon as royalty by society . He was knighted by two Popes , resteraunts named dinners on the menue after him and I was a son he couldn’t have anything to do with . My existence would have brought the entire Thomas dynasty to a crumble . So I was kept locked away and my life lied about .

Later , my mother gave me away to the state and now not even a home did have .

This was to be the only time in my life where I would attempt to contact my father . Not being so sure as to how to go about doing this I had sent a letter to my grandfather to pass along to my mother whom I had not been in contact with for many years .

I was asking for assistance in contacting my father . Along with my letter to my mother asking for her assistance I had enclosed a picture of her grandson , myself and my then wife .

Aside from her returning the picture which I had sent her return letter which I had received about a week later offered me just what I had thought I would receive from her , nothing , the same which I had received from her all my life .

My mother , I am sorry to say , is a miserable person with a capital M . A person who has never in her life done anything for anyone without receiving money and this request would prove to be no different . Never a more worthless life existed then that of my mother with the exception of her equally contemptible daughter , Claudia .

I wish I could say good things about the woman who born me however this is one mother who it is imposable to say anything at all good about . This very week she was in another deposition where not only did she commit additional acts of perjury but when caught in another major lie she ran out of the deposition rather then to answer the question .

Diane will crumble on the stand as all the information I have collected over the years comes forward . Information such as a DNA test which after the ambiguous verbiage has been removed and only factual evidence remains now reads inconclusive with a 70% chance my sister is Miss Thomas . This test could be much more accurate with either a Y chromosome test between Tony and myself or a test involving the stored tissue of Danny Thomas . I have asked for either , neither of these would Tony Thomas permit as we both know what the outcome would be . A test of such would remove the inconclusive and be replaced by conclusive .

( a copy of the letter I received in return from my mother is below )

The date on my mothers letter is important as this letter set into effect a chain of events where the outcome was to be dire .

After receiving my mothers letter I knew it was up to me alone to contact my father .

I had memorized the address

1187 North Hillcrest Road Beverley Hills 90210
from the time as a teenager though never chose to write until now .

The date of which I put pen to paper was February 2nd 1991 and I sent the letter out the very next day . My letter was simple , one page describing the lives of myself , my son and my wife accompanied by the very same picture which my mother had held in her hand just a couple days before .

My letter was sent on the 3rd day of February and would be arriving at my fathers house by the 4th and most certainly no later then the 5th .

My father had been away at St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital for a couple days and returned home around 1:00 am on the 6th day of February 1991 .

Danny Thomas had walked into his home around 1:00 am , he hung up his coat and hat and then proceeded to read his mail ,(the same bundle of mail which contained my letter)

Danny Thomas was found lying on the kitchen floor suffering from a massive heart attack , clenched in his hands , a letter and a picture , the picture was of a man , a child , and a woman .

Danny Thomas was rushed to the hospital where he was pronounced dead at 2:00 am .

Was it my letter…… or guilt…….. which killed the great Danny Thomas ?

Not only did my fathers guilt arise in such a fashion as to bring about in my opinion a massive heart attack which killed him but the picture he was holding in his hand was only a couple days before held by my mother thus completing this strange chain of events .

The picture was of my family and it ended up in my fathers hands who’s guilt was so strong that the sight of this picture along with the letter was too much .


from the time as a teenager though never chose to write until now .

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