I was halfway through a plate of scrambled eggs when the first plume of smoke curled up over the treetops. Not campfire smoke—the thick, angry kind that means trouble. My neighbor called five minutes later, voice shaking, saying a crowd had just busted out the windows of the grocery store on Main and people were scattering like ants.

It wasn’t my first rodeo, but something about that morning felt different. There was a charge in the air. You know the feeling when a summer storm’s about to break? The sky gets heavy. The birds go quiet. That’s what it felt like—except instead of thunder, it was sirens and shouting.

This book was born out of moments like that.

See, a lot of folks think civil unrest is something that happens somewhere else. On TV. In a big city. To other people. But unrest doesn’t need a permission slip. It doesn’t care about zip codes. It shows up fast, and it doesn’t knock. One minute you’re sipping coffee on your porch, the next you’re watching a crowd march down your street, angry and unpredictable.

Now, I’m not here to scare you. That’s not my game. Fear’s a lousy teacher. But I am here to shoot straight with you. I’ve spent years studying how people fall apart—and how they hold it together—when their world gets turned on its head. The good news is, you don’t have to be Rambo or some bunker-dwelling hermit to make it through. You just need to think ahead a little and act smart when the moment hits.

In the pages ahead, I’m going to walk you through what to do before, during, and after a riot or civil upheaval—whether it’s right outside your front door or you get caught in it while driving downtown. We’ll talk about how to spot the warning signs before things boil over, how to make yourself invisible when the crowd’s on edge, and how to keep your home from turning into a soft target.

This isn’t about politics. It’s about people. When the power goes out and the rules stop mattering, how you prepared is going to matter a whole lot more than who you voted for.

And if you’re thinking, “Well, I live in a quiet neighborhood—we’re probably safe,” let me tell you: quiet neighborhoods have a funny way of turning loud when supply trucks stop running and tensions spill over.

So yeah, this book might ruffle some feathers. That’s okay. It’s meant to. I’d rather ruffle feathers now than have you caught flat-footed later.

Because when the smoke starts rising, it’s already too late to go looking for a plan.