Andre Rush - Call Me Chef, Dammit!: A Veterans Journey from the Rural South to the White House

Call Me Chef, Dammit!

Copyright 2022 by Andre Rush

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meanselectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or otherexcept for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published by Harper Horizon, an imprint of HarperCollins Focus LLC.

Author is represented by the literary agency of The Fedd Agency, Inc., P. O. Box 341973, Austin, Texas 78734

Book design by Aubrey Khan, Neuwirth & Associates.

Any internet addresses, phone numbers, or company or product information printed in this book are offered as a resource and are not intended in any way to be or to imply an endorsement by Harper Horizon, nor does Harper Horizon vouch for the existence, content, or services of these sites, phone numbers, companies, or products beyond the life of this book.

This is a work of nonfiction. The events and experiences detailed herein are all true and have been faithfully rendered as remembered by the author, to the best of his ability. Some names have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals involved.

ISBN 978-0-7852-4946-7 (eBook)

ISBN 978-0-7852-4945-0 (HC)

Epub Edition February 2022 9780785249467

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021951483

Printed in the United States of America

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To my dear mother

Tears flood my face as I write this. I remember my anger at you for not letting me know you were dying. You simply said, Keep goingyoure doing the Lords work, and you kept telling me that until it was too late.

You knew if I had stopped, I would have never become Chef Rush.

You were all of me.

Thank you, Madear.

N ever judge a book by its cover. Everyone has a story, but you need to take the time to open the pages before truly understanding someones life.

So what do you see when you look at me?

My eyes hide a story I thought I would never tell... until now.

The smirk on my face is for negativity. I smile then I react. I combat it with positivity. Always.

Im a role model. I accept that. If not to anyone else, then to every kid who looks up to me.

These fatigues were cut and shaped specifically for me. They were molded and crafted inch by inch and stitch by stitch to represent a chef jacket. A jacket reminding me of how I became a chef after I was told repeatedlydenied repeatedlybetrayed repeatedlythat I could never be one. After I was told I would never be anything. A cook could only be as good as a cook, and a cook in the Army in those days meant nothing. I had these fatigues tailored to a chef jacket to remind me of the humility in a job I thought I would never do and the respect in a title I never thought I would carry.

The medals on this chef jacket remind me of the country that I served and that I continue to serve. I pinned on these medals and badges to remind me what Ive been through and why. They arent for others to see or hear about. They are reminders of my pain and my purpose.

The American flag reminds me every day, This I defend. Not just this country, but every country. You are all my brothers and sisters.

The USACAT badge represents the U.S. Army Culinary Arts Team and the blood, sweat, and tears it took to be asked to join it. I pay homage to this small team, because it says a lot about the person who earns a place among these chefs. I wasnt a culinarian, and I wasnt the best chef, but I was the hardest worker.

The Bronze Star records triumph and tragedy. I remember vividly why I earned it, and its a reason that I dont ever share.

The Legion of Merit recalls a medal given to an NCO that they didnt want to give it to. I was that NCO.

Its not about the medals or badges, but about the respect of me accomplishing something. About the service that I gave. The military is like life, with egos and alpha males and pride and power. Some people dont think that you should have the same respect or dignity that they have. They need to believe that theyre above you, whether it be through medals or rank or whatever other bullshit they might deem important.

These arms that Ive spent a lifetime carving outthese twenty-four-inch biceps caged inside these customized fatiguesare crossed to block out any negativity. My arms are twenty-four inches because they grew from coping, lifting seven hundred pounds out of anger, performing 2,222 push-ups every day to help those who gave up, who think about giving up, and who need help. Those push-ups are to help myself too.

My clenched hands and stern smirk are meant to keep the doubters and haters at bay.

My hands are held, to remind me to control myself. I hold them tight every day. My knuckles are bruised permanently to remind me where I came from.

I wear this chef coat with pride, just to let everyone know, Im a chef, dammit! It represents my struggle to do something that a kid from Mississippi was told he could not do. It sends a message that you can do what you want to do and be just as influential doing it.

My PTSD I talk about is a gift and a curse. Ive mastered making thousands of dishes over the years, but Ive learned there is no recipe for coping with trauma. Like life, its your choice on how to deal with it. Anybody who suffers from PTSD has their own battle to fight. Yet sometimes its hard to take up arms since we cant even see the war raging inside of us.

With help and with time, you can control it. But you cant do it alone.

So thats all of the outward stuff you see, the stuff thats on the cover of the book; these are the things I share on social media. Now Im finally going to open up and allow you to hear about my personal stories, the tales that made me Chef Rush. The saga about a sickly kid being forged in the Army and finding a passion in the culinary arts. A journey through military bases, the Pentagon, and the White House to the aftermath of surviving 9/11. A life led under the radar until a simple picture posted on social media changed that life forever.

This is what you cant see. Cooking was a hobby for me until it later saved my life, giving me hope I could share with others. I would take a bullet or give a bullet for any of my principles. I would do a mission, then come back and cook a five-star meal. I loved to fight, not for the violence but for the release. It was an outlet, and still is. So when people ask why a chef needs to be that big, I give a simple reply: To whup yo ass! Then feed you dessert.

This book isnt an autobiography thats going to bore you with a diary of specific dates and details related to my life as a chef and military veteran. My point in sharing my life story with you is to let you know that you can do anything you want to do. When I show up, I tell people, Im here and Im going to make you uncomfortable. Im going to give you everything I have. Everything I know. All my mistakes and mishaps and misdirections. Everything. Ive wanted to be an open book because so many have kept theirs closed to me.

So keep reading, dammit!

You are the sum total of everything youve ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgotits all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that I try to make sure that my experiences are positive.

MAYA ANGELOU

T he pounding woke me up in the early morning. It was a violent bam bam bam on the door, echoing like machine gun shots. They werent coming just from the front of our home but from multiple doors in our community. Our family had moved from the south-side projects of Columbus, Mississippi, to these north-side projects a few years after I was born. It was like going from nothing to nothing. The north-side projects did have a more tightly knit, family atmosphere, with two units residing in one building and multiple buildings spaced closely together. The loud knocks woke up everybody.