Douglas McKinnon, a son of Dorchester, begins his memoir as a riveting, rat-a-tat account of a childhood punctuated by near-daily narrow escapes from the undertow drag of his reckless parents, whose taste for drink and excess in 1960s Boston was surpassed only by their ambivalence about their own kids’ survival.

It ends as an anti-poverty manifesto from a self-described “independent conservative” who served as a speechwriter in the Reagan White House and communications chief to Senator Bob Dole, but who has grown disillusioned by each major party’s election season lip-service to poor people.

But, Rolling Pennies in the Dark (Simon & Schuster, Howard Books, 229 pages) is neither a full-blown autobiography nor a political treatise. It is, in its finest moments, a harrowing tale of confrontation, survival, and spirituality that is conveyed in short-chapter bursts that, one-by-one, stun readers with brute-force honesty.

Doug MacKinnon and his two siblings dodged death more times in their adolescence than most people will in a long lifetime. In Chapter 1, Doug, at age 13, is stabbed during one of many street brawls in his Bowdoin Street stomping grounds. A few pages later, McKinnon and his brother — and his mother— defend one of their many temporary homes from a pack of teen terrorists with shotgun blasts in a scene reminiscent of a last-stand frontier showdown. Later, McKinnon’s own mother — spiraling finally into full mental collapse— blows huge holes in her own kids’ bedroom walls with a .45 revolver.

Not all of the action and dysfunction takes place on the streets of Dorchester. In fact, to his credit, McKinnon goes out of his way to heap praise on his old neighborhood, which he holds relatively blameless for the misery of his first 17 years.

“I love Dorchester and this book is not a reflection on Dorchester,” McKinnon told the Reporter. “Most of Dorchester was and is made up of good, hard-working blue collar people.”

“Dorchester was the epicenter,” MacKinnon said. “No matter where we were, we always got sucked into Dorchester and for good reasons, not bad.”

In fact, although he was born at the old St. Margaret’s — and spent formative time living with grandparents here (and in ten different homes across Dot with his own folks)— he and his siblings largely lived a nomad’s life until adulthood. Constables and landlords bounced the MacKinnons across New England. Doug’s memories of abbreviated stays in suburban towns and even other city neighborhoods are mostly sheathed in resentment towards cruel children who heaped scorn on the ill-clad, bath-deprived MacKinnon kids.

Dorchester, at least, was home to other youngsters like Doug: on the margins, one bad night away from an accidental or deliberate death at the hands of their own caretakers. While attending an annex of Dorchester High for six months, MacKinnon became a mascot of sorts to a group of tougher, older black teens who took pity on the poorest white kid they’d ever encountered.

“I don’t want to make it worse than it was,” MacKinnon says. “There were good kids and bad kids and some kids that were more territorial.”
For all of MacKinnon’s run-ins on city sidewalks and parks, however, the most dangerous moments of his day were likely spent inside his own home.

“There was never any physical abuse, other than that we didn’t exist,” MacKinnon said of his parents. “We were just ignored. The three children were the enemy.”

The MacKinnon kids found occasional refuge from the chronic neglect in the arms of their grandparents, aunts and uncles — most of whom also lived in Dorchester. Doug also discovered another life boat: faith in God, an epiphany that took physical form through a plastic Nativity set that he purchased for himself as a kindergartner.

“I discovered my faith as a five year old. What drew me to that little plastic scene, I’m not sure. I am a person of faith, not a fan of organized religion, but I try to do the right thing every day. That Nativity scene became my constant confidante.”

MacKinnon also came to embrace reading as an escape valve— and his book smarts and street savvy combined to propel him out of the danger zone. He broke into a career at the Pentagon, and later became a sought-after columnist, communications chief, and speechwriter. (One of the book’s highlights is a one-on-one encounter with President Reagan in the Oval Office.)

Today, MacKinnon splits his time between Washington and Florida, where he is a principal at an international law firm. He has also published a series of novels, most of them featuring characters with Dorchester ties. His next book, due out in May, is a work of fiction titled Vengeance Is Mine.

MacKinnon said he has received hundreds of e-mails so far from people commenting on the impact of reading Rolling Pennies in the Dark, which will soon go into a paperback printing for its second edition.

“It took me and my editors a lot of convincing to write this book in the first place,” said MacKinnon, who added that many were surprised that he dedicated the memoir to the two villains of the piece: “mom and dad.” MacKinnon says that his wife has been a healing influence in his adult life and encouraged a reconciliation with his father, John, late in his life. (His mother, Marie, died young from alcohol-related illness.)

“I didn’t want to hold any poison inside of me. I wanted to let that poison go. I had to reach out and forgive my dad. He was an amazingly brilliant man, who was maybe too bright for his own good.”

“I hope people back home like it and I hope, if nothing else, my pride in the area comes across.”