John F. Rifenberg was born around Christmas, in a shed, near a barn. Some out of town strangers occupied the bar. They arrived first by donkey, beating John’s parents to the barn by a nose. There were several people gathered around the manger in the barn. A huge star in the north, brightened the night. Then an angel, named Frankie came from the heavens or the highway, and saved the boy.
As an older (but no wiser) man, he joined the Royal Palm Beach Writers and in his mind helped re-invent the alphabet. By the grace of God, he’s received five writing medals for his short stories in recent years. He lives in Royal Palm Beach, Florida with vivacious and loving bride, Frankie and to whom he’s happily married for 27 years. She reluctantly supports his radical view of the solar system; in which Florida is the cent of the universe, and Royal Palm Beach is the capital. When John turned 60, he told his bride that he wanted to learn to play the bass guitar or start writing. The rest is musical history.
