I know that a lot of you are working and this email may be a little long but I wanted to share something with you. When I did DIARY OF A MAD BLACK WOMAN, I used my house in the movie thinking that it was a good
idea and that I would save a lot of money. Well, that was one of the dumbest things that I could have done.

Every week since DIARY came out I have been spending a lot of money to repair the lawn because people would drive up to take pictures and drive over the grass, break the sprinklers, and trash the flowers. I had to
have the call box disconnected because the phone would ring all through the night. Some just wanted to say hi, others where asking for everything from marriage to money. Not small amounts of money--they
wanted cars and houses!  Then the tour buses started coming by. I couldn't leave the house a lot of times because I couldn't get out of the gate--there were so many people there. But the final straw came when
I woke up one morning and found a note on my door. Mind you, this bold person had to climb a 12 foot fence and walk about 300 feet to my front door in the middle of the night in order to do this. The door is glass
and you can look right into the house.  I decided I had to move. The house was too exposed and too far from the city. My commute to the studio was at least an hour and a half round trip, sometimes more.  I
needed to be in the city.

I had a dilemma--I loved my house and having a lot of land.  If I moved to the city I would have to give up the land for the convenience of in-town living.  I was telling this to a friend and she said that maybe
I didn't have to give up the land.  She told me that there was a piece of property in the city that had four acres more than my old house and that it was for sale.  As she was giving me the address I realized that I knew the area very well.

I remembered the time when I was homeless. I would go to that very street where this property was located and just look around.  I would get such a peace and comfort when I was in this neighborhood knowing that I was going to be okay and that my God could do anything. I learned a long time ago that you have to see yourself in a better situation before it could happen.  So in my mind's eye, while homeless and all, I could still see myself living there.

So some years later I found myself walking around this beautiful property. There was a small house on it, and the realtor asked me if I wanted to see it.  I agreed. As I walked up to the door I started to sweat. I said, "I don't want to go in." Something just felt very wrong about the house itself.  So I finished the tour outside.  I went home and couldn't sleep. I prayed about it.  I went back to the property several times and walked around it praying. And in the middle of one of those prayers I felt this sense of peace. I thought, "Oh God, you mean I
could have it?"  So I called the realtor and bought the property. I still refused to go into the rundown house. I decided to tear it down and build my dream home.

A few weeks into the construction I was doing a book singing in Atlanta and the sheriff comes in and serves me. I was being sued by the previous owner of the property for tearing down the house! I called my legal team
and after some research they filled me in on the situation. According to the lawyer who had argued and won the case for me, the man who owned the property before me was a lawyer who had lost the property in a
malpractice suit. She also told me that the woman who filed the original malpractice suit against him was murdered, and that another woman who had purchased some of his other property was kidnapped. Needless to say, my team was a little concerned. However, I had no fear. I knew that I had gotten a word from on high and that I was supposed to be there.

I continued building the new house, continued going there when I was in town and continued to be grateful. Before the foundation was poured I put a Bible under it and whispered a prayer of thanksgiving. Little did
I know, the most shocking thing I still hadn't found out yet.

I had gotten a call from Mayor Franklin saying that Dr. King's personal papers were going up for auction at Sotheby's and that she was trying to raise money to bring them all back here to Atlanta.   Understanding the importance of this, without hesitation I joined in the fight. Little did I know that this moment would mean so much more to me in the days to come.

Not long after that phone call I found out that the same man that used to own my new property also owned a hotel in Atlanta. During the civil rights struggle he sued the US government because he didn't want to
integrate his hotel.  He argued this all the way to the Supreme Court and lost, of course. Even though Dr. King's dream had always meant a great deal to me it was closer now more than ever.

We went to court and when I was called to the stand you should have seen the look on his face. I don't think he knew that I was Black (when he first filed the lawsuit). Needless to say the judge threw out the case
and instructed this man not to harass me. No sooner than we left court he had re-filed his lawsuit. The judge was livid because of this and had him arrested. Well, he got out and guess what?  He did it again. You
guessed it-he sued me again! So I have decided to go public with this story. I wanted to tell you about it first because I didn't want you to read it somewhere and not know what was going on.  All is well though. I
was just informed that the judge has kicked it out again.

But what is so wonderful about this, and what I wanted to share with you is this--here I am a 37-year-old Black man. I am living on and owning the property of a man who once argued the merits of segregation and
refused service to "coloreds".

You talk about someone who is grateful! Every time I walk the grounds or turn the key at the front door, I'm reminded of all of the people who paid the price for not only me but for all of us to live wherever and
however we want to live. So I say thank you to all those that have come before me and I apologize for all of us in this get-rich-or-die-trying generation who have forgotten that somebody paid it all.

God bless.

Tyler Perry



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