Check out excerpts from Joe’s books When the Dust Settled and Unshackled by clicking on the images below!

Fire Below, Fire Within

Excerpt from Unshackled

The heat was already thick that morning when disaster struck.

I was working down in the starboard filter room when the sharp wail of the General Quarters alarm shattered the air. A fire had broken out in the starboard hangar bay. We’d been through countless drills since the start of the World Cruise, but this one hit differently. You could feel it in the way the ship jolted to life—in the way your gut twisted before your brain caught up.

I climbed the ladder fast, sealed the hatch, and locked it down tight. Then came the worst part—waiting. We had been in general quarters a lot. I was trained, equipped, and prepared for whatever came. When I joined the Navy, I knew what I was getting into. I could lose my life in the line of duty. This was par for the course—and I was all in.

Our firefighters were the best. I’d been part of the in-port team—I knew the drills, the gear, the muscle memory. The U.S. Navy didn’t play games when it came to fires at sea.

But training couldn’t silence the voices in my head. The ones that had nothing to do with the present.

That fire no one could run from triggered something I thought I’d buried a long time ago.

Homebound (Excerpt from Unshackled)

As I stepped through the front door of Mom’s apartment, I moved through the room, hugging my brothers one by one. Tears rolled down my face—I couldn’t believe how much they had grown since the last time I saw them. I held each of them tightly, not wanting to let go. I had missed them more than I ever thought was possible.

I was so excited to be back home with my family.

They had a million questions about my new life, and I was more than eager to share every detail. But one person was missing… my sister. I knew she was forging her own path, and even though I missed her deeply, I was incredibly proud of her.

After a few days at home, Mom and Lynn organized a welcome-home gathering at Lynn’s house. For as long as I could remember, Lynn’s place had been the heart of the family—where everyone gathered, where everyone was welcome. She lived just a few blocks away, but somehow, it always felt like a world apart.

When we arrived, it felt like Mom was showing me off to anyone who would listen. I found it odd, considering she used to say I was the thorn in her side throughout my childhood. I had been regularly subjected to emotional and physical abuse from her and my stepdad—wounds I still carried.

We’d come early to help her set up. She made sloppy joes and corn on the cob. My brothers and I pitched in wherever we could. Something about it all made me feel like the day would be a good one. I thanked Lynn for always keeping me updated on how my brothers were doing. My own mother had only written to me once while I was away, and that still stung in a place too deep for words.

Throughout the afternoon, I visited with nearly all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins. It was overwhelming at times, but when the day was over and I laid down to rest, I felt wrapped in love. My extended family still saw me—still embraced me—and that meant more than I could ever express.

The Best for Last

Toward the end of my leave, I finally had the chance to visit Aunt Grace and my grandparents at her home. Earlier that day, Grace had called and asked me to wear my uniform so she could take pictures of Grandpa and me together.

She greeted me at the door with her million-dollar smile. “Joey! Welcome home, honey!”

“It’s great to be home, Aunt Grace,” I said as we hugged. “Thank you for all the letters… they were my lifeline.”

“It was the least I could do, honey.”

I stepped into the kitchen and greeted my grandparents, who were sitting at the table.

“Where are the girls, Grace?” I asked.

“They’re at work, honey. Hopefully, you’ll get to see them before you leave.”

“Sounds good.”

“You look great, Joey,” they said together in sweet, imperfect unison.

We spent the next few hours catching up on life, laughing and reminiscing like no time had passed.

Before I left, Grace insisted on taking pictures of me with my grandparents. After she was finally satisfied with the shots, she smiled and said, “Rock Hudson, eat your heart out!”

“Who’s Rock Hudson?” I asked with a grin.

“He’s a very handsome movie star… but not as handsome as my nephew.”

“Thanks,” I laughed. “Hey Grandma, can you take a picture of me and Grace? She’s been taking pictures of everyone else!”

Grandma took a few shots, and then it was time to say goodbye.

I hate goodbyes.

I hugged Grace and Grandma tightly, but as I walked toward Grandpa, I noticed a tear in his eye. When we embraced, he held me firmly and said, “I am so very proud of you, son.”

That was only the second time in my life I’d ever seen Grandpa cry—and it moved me beyond words. As I walked away from the house, tears welled up in my eyes.

Grandpa was a WWII Navy veteran who had served at Pearl Harbor. He was one of the biggest reasons I chose the Navy in the first place.

He was my hero.

Coming home gave me the reset I didn’t know I needed. The time with my siblings, my family—it was something I had longed for, something I’d been aching for. And after our brief time together, my heart felt full.

Reflection

That trip home did something I didn’t expect—it reminded me of who I was beneath the uniform, beneath the pain. I’d been running so hard, trying to prove myself to people who had already given up on me, that I forgot what it felt like to be seen. To be loved just for showing up.

But that night, when Grandpa said he was proud of me… it healed something. Not completely—but enough to keep going. Enough to face the next storm.

Because there were still many storms ahead. But for the first time in a long time, I believed I might just survive them.