Oct 17, 2000 It started on October 17th, 1947. I was supposed to been born
on Oct.5, 1947, but, I was late. Then they finally had to take me by a C-section.
When I was born, I was not breathing and according to my Mom, she said they
had to make me breath by slapping me with paddles upside down. That would
seem like an awful experience to go through. At least I don't remember any
That is when my life
started. My mother did not want to see me and she didn't see me until twelve
days later. I don't know much about the why of this, or remember, but she
said something about they thought I had water on the brain and I was very
sick. I could not set up or anything for a long time. I think I was around
three years old before I managed that task.
When I began talking
I could not be understood at all. I stuttered all the time and I could not
even say my own name. I had to go to a special class and speech lessons everyday.
I remembered I hated it. I remember once when I was nine years old (I won't
ever forget it) my mother was at the stove fixing hamburger gravy. That was
one of the main meals we had when I was growing up. I was standing at the
end of the stove and I tried to tell her something. She told me in no certain
terms to shut my X___X___ mouth until I could talk or not talk to her at
I remember kids made
fun of me and called me names all the time. But the abuse did not stop there
at all. I had it at home also. My mom hated me. She blamed me for her getting
cancer after I was born and she really did not want anything to do with me.
She did buy me nice clothes and tried to buy my love, but, there was no love
there at all from my mom or really from my dad.
When I was young, I always
loved church. I wanted to go every time the doors were open. I loved church
camp and being around the kids and the teachers. My mother kept church from
me when I was naughty or if I ever did something wrong. Even for minor things
she kept church away from me for sometimes as long as a month. I use to cry
but it did not do any good.
So I continued to go
to school and was verbally abuse by the kids at school or I was abused from
my mother at home. She use to whip me with a fly swatter. She beat me so
hard that she made the blood come out of my back and my legs. Every time
I told her to stop, or said no, she did it twice as hard. I remember one
time going to gym class at school and I had to undress and shower with the
rest of the girls. I got laughed at but there were no laws back then to protect
children. So it went on like that for years.
When I was in high school,
I ran away from home and stayed with my half brother. My mother at that time
disowned me and went through a lawyer to have it made legally official.When
I was at my half brother's house, he was a preacher and got us all up at
3:00 every morning to pray. I ran from his house to another house and that
was all the way through high school. I did lousy work in school.
I got engaged when I
was in high school to someone I knew all my life. We had big dreams to be
married and live happily ever after. I had my check-up and the doctor found
I should not have children so I had to have my tubes tied, so the danger
would be removed and I would not die from a potential pregnancy. The big
day of graduation came and I thought it was. My parents, my family nor my
friends came to my graduation. I spent it all alone. The night of graduation
I started smoking and drinking. That was my first but it was not my last.
A few days later I went
out late one night. I some how wound up in South Bend, Indiana, bus station.
I still do not know why I was there. But that was a night mare and I will
never forget it--even till the day I die. I was thrown in a car by two black
men and taken out somewhere under a bunch of tracks and knifed and raped.
I was covered all over with blood. My mom did come and pick me up later but
never took me to a physician to be checked or provided any counseling at
all. For months I had night mares and woke up screaming about it. But I broke
my engagement. I did not want anything to do with a man--not even the one
After all that and the
night mares I remember stealing $300 dollars from my Mom in her top chest
of drawers. I got on a Greyhound bus. My first stop was in Chicago, Illinois.
I got a job as a bar tender, but I also ran the streets for awhile. In fact,
I lived on the streets. That was in the 1960's. I never did drugs, but I
think I was handed something one time because I was real drunk and hit my
mouth and broke my tooth and had to get it capped later. I wound up on South
Michigan Street at a Mission. I later remembered when I got my apartment,
I had tried to find a church I could attend. God was still there, but I did
not have Him in my life. But He had me, and I think He was watching out for
me. From Chicago I wound up in Las Vegas and the same thing happened there.
I just kept running and running, getting jobs on the side or gambling in
Vegas trying to make money.
Then I wound up in Bakersfield,
California. I did not have any money or anywhere to go, so I answered an
ad in the paper and wound up in a magazine out fit. Then one day the manager
came in the motel where we was all staying and got very mad and started yelling.
He shoved me against a dresser and when I fell I hit my back on it and he
walked out and I laid there. I could not get up or move. I remember two people
walked by and picked me up and I wound up in a county hospital. I had two
crushed vertebras in my back.
After all that, I ended
up back home. I got a job at a local bowling alley as a bartender. That was
the start of more trouble, but did not know it at the time. I met my soon
to be husband there and we were married. For the first few years it was very
bad. There was a lot of domestic violence in the marriage. I was knocked
around and bruised and etc. I remember one night I got in the car and drove
as fast as I could. It was in the middle of winter and all I had on was my
night gown and no shoes. I tried to kill myself; however, I did not succeed.
But I tried. The abuse went on for at least 6 more years.
In the middle of that
time I started going to church again. I wanted to be in church. After a while
my husband put pressure on me to choose the church or choose him. Well I
chose my husband over God. That was a huge mistake for I could not go to
church for about 5 years.
There were times on church
nights that I would always made up an excuse to go to the store or whatever
and found myself in the parking lot of our church listening to the message.
Our preacher was so loud all I had to do was put the windows down. It was
in the middle of winter a lot of times. But I was drawn to the church.
When I was 24 years old
I got very sick. I was having very bad female problems and sometimes it lasted
for months. There were times I thought I was going to die. I could not leave
the house it was so bad. So I wound up having major surgery. In the hospital
someone asked me did we want to become foster parents. We still had bad times
and we covered up the fights and the abuse. On the night of August 23, 1979,
we got a call at 9:00 PM and they wanted to know would we take a little baby
that was born July 28th of 1979. We said yes. When we got him, he was covered
with scabies, mites, dragged around the throat by a older sister like a doll.
He did not have on any clothes except a doll top that had to be cut off of
him. We spent all that night at the hospital. I use to set up nights to rock
him and we had to feed him every two hours just a small amount of formula.
One night when he was
three months old I had a dream, maybe a vision. I am not sure. But I woke
up my husband and I told him that we would adopt John and that he would be
in church. Well he told me we may adopt him, but, he will never be in a so
and so church.
Every 45 days they had
a court hearing to see if the parents were fit to take the children back.
The judge kept saying the parents were not fit. But they could have visiting
rights. This went on for two years. The last court hearing came and the social
services told us to get his clothes ready. That he would be going home the
next day after court. I just kept hanging on to what I had dreamt two years
Well court was over and
the call came in at 5:00 PM the next evening. The judge told the parents
that they could have 5 children back but not two of the seven. One of the
two that was spared was John. We got to adopt him on August 12th of 1982.
He was just a few days after his second birthday. That was the best day in
my life. He was our son and God answered my prayer. When he was around 8
years old, he accepted Jesus in his life and had a strong life in church.
He wanted to be a minister and he sang specials in church. I was very proud
One night though, I remember
when he was about 4 years old, he got between his dad and me and told his
dad in a child's voice: "Don't be mean to my mommy." The abuse did not stop
even with a child in the house. It kept going until one day when he had to
stop drinking because of sickness. So the domestic violence stopped but the
verbal abuse kept up.
Verbal abuse is worse
than domestic violence. It does not carry the physical scars or you can't
see the scars on the skin, but they are there. You just can't see them. Sometimes
I think that domestic violence is better than people can see and maybe help
but the other is behind closed doors and it can't be seen. You live in it
all alone and really have no-one to talk to.
When my husband retired
from his job back in 1985, he went through a very depressing time. He lost
a lot of weight and ate big huge chocolate bars. Maybe about 5 or more a
day and kept getting skinnier. Then one day I could not find him at all.
He was not in the house. I went outside and he was in the woods. He cut both
of his arms and told me to stay away from him or he would kill himself. He
was bleeding very bad. I ran in the house and called my pastor. I remember
his son answered the phone and I asked for his dad. He said his dad was out
on the lawn mower at the church and could not come to the phone. I told him
what happen and I guess the son went and told him and he was out within matter
The pastor finally talked
him in going to the hospital. Well, of course, the hospital kept him for
observation and then sent him to a mental ward for a few days. He signed
himself in. He also signed himself out--after a week. They took my foster
license after that. But thank God we had already adopted our son.
In November of 1995,
I went to see my mother and my dad. I did not know that would be the last
time I would see them or even talk to them. We had a great time. My mom and
I went shopping and she used to cry on my shoulders and tell me all the bad
things that my dad did to her. My dad even has went as far as trying to poison
her by putting things in her orange juice and milk and stuff. She could never
eat at home. She accidently did drink some stuff once and had to go to the
doctor. When I was ready to leave and to go back home, I cried and really
did not want to leave, but I did.
After I got home, she
called me on the phone and wanted to ask me a question. "Ok mom, go ahead
and ask me." She asked why did I take her old money, and some of her clothes
and a few certificates of deposit out of the bank and a few other things
that she had laying around. I was in total shock and said I didn't. She said
if you don't bring them back to me I won't be your mother. I just started
yelling at her and told them I did not have them. She never talked to me
But someone went to her
house and they looked and could not find anything at all. This was a few
months later. Then one day they went shopping at the mall and came home and
all that stuff that Mom accused me of taking was in her dining room. It was
my dad that did that and sat there and let me take the blame.. She never
once apologized to me. On October 17th 1998 my mom had open heart surgery
and she died. My dad would not let me go to the funeral at all. My half sister
as far as I know got what my mom had. Everything I did have of my mom's from
the past made me cry every time I saw it.
Then on December 11th,
1999, my dad died. How I found out that he died was I was very sick and had
pneumonia. I just got up and my son was on his computer in his room. So I
got up (after throwing up) and sat down at my computer just for a few minutes.
I opened my e-mail up and I had a e-mail saying that my dad just died earlier
that evening. Boy that was a shock on me and I went into hysterics. He was
still my dad and no matter how bad he was he was still my dad.
My husband did not console
me or anything. I could not go to that funeral either. I did not receive
anything from the estate but that is ok. I could not even get my things out
of her house that was mine. I was told if I wanted anything I would have
to drive up there to the auction of the house and bid on what I wanted. I
never did. My husband stopped me from going. But with all I have been through
in life, I set back now and think about it. God never left me. I left him
and tried to do my own thing. I really made a mess of my life. Today I am
here with two fractures in my spine and I really don't have any thing. But
I have something that money can't buy. I have Jesus in my life.
We just moved and we
left everything--I left everything behind. We don't have anything at all
now. But Jesus never left me. He gave me another place to live. Maybe it
is not as nice as what we had. but I thank God for it. I came here with nothing.
There has been times when the cupboards were empty. But God always supplied
our needs. He has always been there. I came here with no winter clothes but
God is supplying my needs.
With all I have been
through in my life there has to be a reason for this. Maybe it will help
me minister to someone else. To be there to talk to someone, For a long time
I felt God calling me in a outreach ministry. To be called by God you don't
have to go to the mission field miles and miles from home. Your mission field
can be your own back yard, or it can be your work place or anywhere you go.
You can be that friend that someone desperately needs. You can be that one
small piece of light. But don't ever forget who the source is. Jesus is that
source and He will supply you with your every need. Just don't try to to
fix it yourself. The more you try the more you will mess up thing. He will
never leave you. No matter what you are going through God will always be
there. No matter what time of day it is God is always there and He is never
to busy. All you have to do is call His name and He will never be to busy