Autobiography

Chuck Wernicke

Charles “Chuck” Wernicke

was born in New York, outside the city on Long Island. Massapequa Park was a beautiful suburb, home to such other legends as Rosie O’Donnell and Jerry Seinfeld.

Moving to Gulf Cove in Florida as a young boy he was nestled between the adventure of Fort Myers and the culture of Sarasota. He enjoyed a motorcycle, boats, firearms, and plenty of empty land to explore and learn. The tiny area located on the beautiful Myakka River was largely undeveloped, yet an expansive road network was laid out in anticipation of huge growth. It took awhile longer than they thought. Still, at the time the area was full of alligators and huge display of other wildlife. His initiation to Redneck-ism took hold and he learned how to be a hunter and survivor, a man.

Then dad died.

Sarasota, Florida is one of the most beautiful cities on this planet. Siesta Key beach is continually nominated as the best in the world. Charles’ mother was an amazing woman, a widowed mother, yet introduced him to the arts, music, and travel; activities difficult for any mother to encourage her teenage son to explore. But she did, and he grew in every way, and with the help of such organizations of Boy Scouts and DeMolay learned leadership and responsibility. The exceptional education offered by Pine View taught him the proper use of his most versatile tool – his voice. He bought a home and tried to begin a life, but boys will be boys, and the restlessness set in.

His older brother Steve lived in Port Charlotte, Florida – an hour south of Sarasota and minutes from Gulf Cove. Chuck moved in with him to return to his comfort zone. After blessing PepsiCo and Pizza Hut with his management talents and affable personality, he opened an Italian Restaurant, created a Crystal, got married, found God, and tried to be all things to all people (in no particular order). It was a fascinating time with constant challenges and few rewards, but some fond memories.

Chuck returned to Sarasota victorious with new family to his old home to pursue his old passion with a new education. He destroyed his competition with the arsenal of experiences on a versatile tool belt, building a computer repair chain that saw spectacular growth. Donating many hundreds of hours of free labor to local charities, he explored his spirituality, and became a powerful force returning the community’s investments into him. He forged amazing alliances, and soon explored his final dream: software design.

Silent Sword was the culmination of that dream, a security process implemented in software that could and would eliminate conventional anti-malware software as we know it. It accomplished in a few seconds what the competition required hours to do. It protected computers in ways no other software could. It was revolutionary. It went public.

There are times when your past is inescapable, when the waiter comes and hands you the check. The bill became due for a blessed life and great fortune.

A motorcycle accident took the feeling in his hands, and specialists informed him that he would soon be paraplegic, and deceased within 10 years. The pain was excruciating. Unable to concentrate or type, he elected to retire early and spend his remaining years pursuing his bucket list. It was a long list. He killed it though. That was 2006. He’s not dead though, nor paraplegic. In fact, the condition stabilized and even improved. The doctors were wrong.

He moved to Orlando to start fresh, to begin another adventure, new challenges and uphill battles.

So now he writes, and finds things to write about. He wakes up, straps on his armor, picks up his sword, mounts his horse, and rides out to battle. Exploring the world and sharing experience, in the dumpster and the penthouse, first class and in the gutter. Life is amazing, and to those many people he’s met along the way – he says, “Thank you. Thanks for being ugly, beautiful, easy, hard, honest liars, stupid geniuses, violent pacifists, and sloppy perfectionists. I appreciate you being you, I wouldn’t want it any other way!”

<insert epitaph here>