I found you! I found you! And now I have some answers! Samantha, I cried and I cried as I've never cried before as I read your memories. I had always wondered why you so enjoyed your time at my house 395 A-3 in Ford Housing. My mother could not understand why I slept so restlessly after you visited. To this day, we still remember the stories you told us at the table. To this day, almost four decades later, I can recall the sound of your voice and your face. Samantha, I can't even begin to understand what you went through nor express my sorrow for your pain. I am currently on deployment in Afghanistan and will be returning home to Florida in January but I sincerely need to see you when I return. You can e-mail me at
[email protected]Yours truly,
John Y Ford
By Samantha M.
I've learned, that while the truth hurts it also sets you free.
It's hard to be honest, to be truthful to see what is real and what isn't. To accept life for all the beauty and warts. I hate that there are memories I'd rather not face.
What makes people the way they are? It's a question I finally found the answer too.
I had a hard time sleeping as a kid, I had the strangest nightmares they were always the same they scared the hell out of me. I would wake up crying and screaming. My room was at the end of the hall I think I shared it but I'm not sure. I hated going to my room I hated the dark I hated the window that was between the door and my bed.
Part of my nightmare had these huge green hands that would come in the window, crawl to my bed, its touch burning me. I'd lay there stiff, the only sound was my scared tears. Then there were the TV's that chased me. They would roll after me on their aluminum stands their cords flying in the air behind them like tails whipping around. Waking up from the nightmare wasn't any easier. I'd sit in my bed blanket pulled up around my knees scrunched up against the headboard, terrified of the window, wishing my door hadn't been shut.
Army housing - a series of boxes to accommodate the most amount of people in the least amount of space.
Our house was a duplex it was big compared to the apts. for the enlisted. It was 3 columns broken into 7 spaces in the middle was the front door which led to the LR a small 1/4 wall broke the LR from the DR off of that was the Kitchen. Off the LR was a small hall that broke into 2 BR and a bath the other side has a BR and a sewing/baby room.
I broke from my bed taking 5 long seconds to hit the door turn the knob and bolt out blanket in tow. I can still feel my heart race, the shiver up my back. A child's door should always open out, the hallway is "SAFETY". I'd usually lay in the door way of the hall and LR listening to the TV. I assume my parents put me back to bed, its where I woke up.
People say your dreams are trying to tell you something.
My dad had been called to active duty for his third term. I went to look for them after yet another nightmare. They were in the sewing room. I watched my mother and aunt pick up a sewing machine and drop it on my fathers foot. You can't begin to know what's going on in a kid's head when they see that. Their looks are embedded in my brain my feeling at that moment is indescribable.
"Go back to bed!" I jump, I can't breath
No explanation, nothing.
My moms standing over my hurt father pointing in the general direction of my room.
I made it to bed in 4 seconds never thinking of the window.
My father still shipped out. The "green hands" shipped out with him.
A 6 year old learns from her nightmare that "green hands" are bad, the window is where the green hands live, mom's scary.
A 37 year old woman learns "Green hands" belonged to the sick fuck that came in my room every night and molested me. And mom is scary.
Bacon
It was the weekend after the school bus ran over my dog.
I was coming home from Kindergarten we were in Niagara Falls and dad was home for good, they were waiting for me to get off at the stop. Cleo was running around with them and then... Yelp! Squish! They got us off the bus a little further up. Could it get any worse?
I was one of those sensitive kids it wasn't hard making me cry.
I guess for parents it could be amusing to pick on your kid, nothing bad just toughening them up stuff. Picture the parent who keeps the camera rolling for funniest home video.
I'd had one of those days and I decide I'm leaving home.
What a weird kid, I'm 5 years old and I'm heading out, I'm gonna make it on my own, I had a plan.
I'm 5 and I'm so fed up I decide to runaway.
My parents watched me pack my little case helping me take the right things
"You need sox"
"Don't forget underwear"
My mom was putting in sweaters.
"Not those"
I was devastated what did they mean not those
"They're mine"
"No, their not. We bought them"
My plan was destroyed at that moment.
How could I run away and become a famous ice skater if I couldn't take my skates. I stood there reasoning with them begging them, they weren't giving in and neither was I.
"I'll get a job I'll buy my own". I actually said that, I crack me up.
Leaving without those skates was the start of my independence, the first time I realized my parents weren't going to be there for me the first time I realized that I was going to do life pretty much alone.
How does a 5 year old come up with this shit?
I walked away from home thinking this is it. or was it, this is it?
I don't remember being scared. I do remember quietly crying when I was walking down the sidewalk, I remember making a plan, well starting one.
If my dad hadn't caught up to me I don't know If I would have waited an hour a day or if I would have ever gone back home. I know I wanted to prove my point.
"come on sambones"
He scooped me up onto his shoulders took my suitcase and headed home.
"well make some bacon".
I wonder what my point was.
Satisfactory Sam
Who ever wrote "Sticks and Stones" was wrong.
Names hurt, names scar you deep, names make you who you are, how your treated, how you treat yourself.
Names make you do things you never thought you could do.
Names make you do things you never dreamt you would do.
Names make you do things you wished you never did.
So many things happened during the four years we spent in Germany.
Dad had an office job on base. He wasn't the same, he was angry, he was drinking, he was my dad and I loved him but, he was an ass.
I loved living in Ford housing. The barracks were in two long rows of about 20 buildings each holding 4 units with 3 apartments in each unit. that's about 240 apartments give or take. Ford was located in the middle of Neu Ulm. Which was the suburbs of Ulm where Voorfeild Base was located. We fit right in, Husband, wife, four kids and a dog. Real Americana.
I was in second grade by then and I was trying to get along. By now I had really begun to get weird, I had imaginary friends that weren't too imaginary, ghosts were more like it. I really and truly believed my friends that I saw and talked too every day were ghosts. I still believe it.
I was sleepwalking when I could sleep and my nightmares were now coming when I was awake.
I didn't have "real" friends I hung out and rode my bike, played at the park, when my mother forced me to watch cate and jerry. Otherwise I'd be alone.
I had a fascination with trees, climbing up into the plum trees in the orchard at the end of base I would sit as high as I could and talk to them. I'd sing songs just for the trees. I thought that when some people die they came back as trees their arm now limbs reaching for God their feet rooted to the Earth. Stuck in the middle, like me. Were they being punished?
I came to the conclusion that they were here to look over the ones they left behind. They were called to heaven and they couldn't go so they became trees instead. I wanted to be a tree.
Can a child truly detach from their parents?
I think that after a while under the wrong circumstances a child can find that they do not belong to their parents. They begin to long for their real parents the ones that will love and protect them, who will understand them.
"Let the beatings begin"
We would all start to cry when dad got home. We knew we were getting hit and we knew there was nothing to do but take it.
The dog leash hung at the front door, it was a horrible daily reminder that we were going to get hit. Mom liked her kitchen utensils; she came at us only if we were around. Dad rounded us up. I hated that he snapped the thing at us. Holding the leather leash in both hands he'd bow it and then pull it tight "CRACK". Sometimes he'd be nice and give us all a little hit most of the time he'd hold us by one arm swinging the leash around letting it land wherever. Our backs, our butts and at times our faces. I wonder if he drank before he came home, I wonder if mom called him before hand complaining, I wonder why my dad felt compelled to come home and beat his children? His 10 7 and 4 year olds daughters. His 3 year old son.
I wonder why mom let him.
I knew pretty much from the start my mom didn't like me. Even as an infant I just knew, and we never bonded.
My dad on the other hand I had worshiped. In spite of the beatings and all the other abuse, He was my hero, he was my dad, he was the best person ever.
To love someone so much and to have them abuse you is a hard thing to deal with. When your seven it's impossible.
The first time I projected out of my body was extremely traumatic. We were nearing Christmas break, dad came to school to get me, I was proud to have gotten a good repot card it was my first all "S's" for satisfactory. Not exceptional, not bad, just good.
I was proud of it.
Dad on the other hand wasn't
"Satisfactory sam"
He actually called me that. Standing outside of school my dad hurt my feelings so much all I could do was cry.
All the way home I apologized and I cried which in turn annoyed him more.
"I'll give you something to cry about"
He beat me for the report card, he beat me for being sorry.
He beat me because he couldn't face himself.
Cate and I shared a room in Germany, our bunk beds were well away from any windows, mom always left the door open" for cate" so you'd think I'd sleep. Or at least stay in bed.
Bad things happened when I went to bed "The Big Green Hands" would come in and burn me, its mouth trying to eat me, smother me. The "Hands" were there every night and I would lie awake waiting for them, I knew they would be there and I waited. I don't know if it was fear or the reality but I began to separate from my body. I would pull my knees to my chest, wrap up tight in the blanket, close my eyes and concentrate hard telling myself to "fly out" "go to the dresser" which was off in the darkest corner of my room. Keeping my eyes closed I could see a light that would fade in and out like a slow strobe and then a rush of peace and harmony would over come me. I'd float and hover just watching, mostly my sister. I wanted to make sure he didn't touch her, too.
Baseball
"I can't believe she made her walk all that way"
"That poor girl"
They were looking at me, I wanted to hide I was exhausted and I was in pain.
A couple of weeks before I had broken my leg, or should I say it was broken for me.
You should never leave your kids alone, they might end up under a pile of wrestling kids with a broken tibia.
Breaking the leg didn't bother me. It was kind of cool to have the cast. People were nice to me. Especially the kids who broke it.
What transpired from the broken leg is what broke me.
Have you ever seen a filthy kid? One with ratty hair and dirt embedded in their pores. This is what I looked like going to the emergency room that day. My mom wasn't concerned with me. She was mad at my filth, embarrassed that she had to claim this dirt ball.
"can some one give me a sponge.
"Mam that would hurt her"
"She should have thought of that earlier"
Thought of what earlier? I didn't think I was going to break my leg! I didn't think anything.
Thank God he wouldn't let her.
Lets look at something here. You have a 9 year old, Who refuses to undress, to bathe. Her hair is matted. Her parents are miles away from her when she gets hurt.
Does anyone have a clue?!
I think my mom and dad were cheating on each other, they each thought the other had been with us. Neither had been there for a while. Our house was filthy, we were filthy.
Things had to change.
Deb the neighbor's daughter came to sit with me while mom ran errands. She was kind and sweet. She pampered me, washed my hair, played games, watched TV. She became my light source. She was an angel sent from God. Deb stopped coming. She died of meningitis. The girl who had spent the last week and a half with me dead just like that.
My parents were around the house more and I was left alone, in a good way.
It had to be about 4 weeks into my cast when mom goes off the deep end.
"Lets go"
"Go where"
"To the ball field"
"How we getting there"
"Were walking. Now get your stuff"
"I don't want to. Can't I stay here?"
SMACK!
"I said get your stuff!"
My mother proceeded to walk me and my sisters 10 miles to Voorfield pushing jerry in the stroller all the way.
She wanted to catch my dad cheating.
"Get up. Get dressed"
"What's going on?"
"We're going to see your father"
It was midnight and we we're all in the wagon speeding toward Voorfield. Mom is screaming, crying and then calm then screaming again. It didn't take long for her to find the apartment.
She laid on the horn screaming out the window
"Dale! you son of a bitch! come on out! Let your kids see the scumbag you are!"
Horn still blaring, people standing in their doorways. I'm crouched in the back watching this go on. We're all crying now.
"Daddy, daddy," Cate's leaning out the window.
"Jesus fucking Christ Jane Are you Fucking nuts?"
Dads walking to the car
"I was just making her a hamburger."
A hamburger? God why couldn't they be honest with each other. I'm 9 and I see through that one. Men SUCK!
Once you get used to something it becomes natural.
Once something is natural you do it without thinking.
If you naturally do something to someone else that knows it's unnatural, they tell their parents "naturally".
I had invited some girls for a sleep over and it was going pretty good, until, bedtime. I molested them, I did to them what the "Green Hands" had done to me for 5 years, it was natural, that's what you do to girls in bed. Its what they did to me.
Dad didn't come home from work the next day nor did he really ever come home again.
We moved back to the states.
They knew about Lisa
It was good to be in NJ my mother had 4 sisters all married all had kids we were a clan and we had fun. Eating at the lake, piling into the wagon for the drive-in. Staying over each oother'shouses. Kids out numbered the parents 3 to one and it was heaven. I had 10 years behind me and this was the best so far. I had more places to hide and my aunts didn't like dad so he stayed away till late at night.
Dad retired from the Army in 78 it was the same year Lisa ran away.
We were never close so I didn't miss her, I didn't even know she had left until she came back.
"You fucking pig"
"She's Lying"
"Why would she lie? Where would she get this shit?"
"I know what you did to Enid too"
"I don't believe you"
"I'm her mother she wouldn't lie to me"
"Get the FUUUUUCK OUUUT of MYYY HOOOUUSE!."
I wanted to leave with him. If given the choice between the two I would have chosen him.
Sadly it wasn't my choice, it was his and he chose to leave me.
Our Kitchen looked like a war zone. They went from hitting each other to throwing knives, one of which stuck in our wall for days. I finally removed it.
They knew what happened to Lisa so I assume they knew what happened to me.
Mom took me to a psych. who affirmed that I had something going on but he wasn't sure.
If my mother had ever left the room I would have told him.
Instead she sat there and listed all my faults, insulting me, hating me, confirming one more time how I made her miserable.
Shit.
Mrs Delben was my 5th grade teacher. Lucky for me she was also pregnant and her maternal instincts were in hyper drive. Like a bee to a flower I did all I could to remain with her. I had asked her once if I could live with her. This made her cry. I didn't have the nerve to ask her again.
I was now exuding weird behavior outwardly.
I fell asleep in class all the time I couldn't help it I tried to stay awake I just couldn't.
School was safe, I could sleep in school.
I also had these pains in my stomach, excruciating pains that made me ball up holding my side for hours, moaning pain. Spasms that would come quick stay a couple of hours and then just go away.
Everything made me cry. I was over sensitive. I had these tears that filled me, I walked around depressed and crying. 11 years old and I am a candidate for prozac. Thank God they didn't have it. Yet.
I found solace in the attic of our garage, I'd sneak up there in the morning and stay all day. I could see everything from the window, no one ever came up and I was at peace up there.
I never made a fort or pretended to be elsewhere. I would sit up there and call to the spirits my angels and we would talk. I'd ask them to talk to God for me. I'd ask them to help me. I'd listen to their songs and sometimes I'd fall asleep. I had some beautiful dreams up there. Dreams that I still remember, dreams that have now come true.
I was almost 12 when mom really freaked. They found her running up rt 181 naked and our house was on fire. It started in her bedroom, which was across from mine. I awoke to a fireman taking me outside my mother now screaming in a psychotic voice.
"Get out of the house"
I always wondered if she started that fire.
I was sent to Aunt Rhonda's for a semester, while mom regained her faculties.
I don't know what happened to the others. I assume they stayed with her.
I hated being at Rhonda's.
Due to my lying and basic weirdness she was all too happy to have me leave as soon as school was out.
I got to my moms house in the evening, a three bedroom on Lake Swannanoah. Lisa had her own room Cate and Jerry had a room mom even had a room. I slept on the couch. Which I lost to Uncle Eddie when he and my cousin Glenn moved in. I now slept on the floor usually in the dinning room away from the feet of every dirt bag who now partied while mom was working, at school or over her boyfriends.
It wasn't home.
We had cops at our house at least 2x a week. Doors were always broken. Our house was filthy and smelled like the basement of a frat house. Food was scarce and I stole from my friends' houses to feed me, Cate and Jerry.
I could care less about Lisa, she never gave a shit about me.
We had always disliked each other, I hated her for hitting me, she hated me for being alive. Lisa had a way of reminding me.
"I'll fucking kill you, I hate you" She'd repeat while sitting on top of me fists making contact.
I took it for another three years.
Piss a kid off enough.
There was a pine forest not far from my house. It was the perfect refuge. I'd take my dog Cate and Jerry some lunch juice and a blanket, we'd stay the day until it was dark. The forest was our home when mom wasn't around which was all the time. It was summer and with school out mom left Lisa in charge who would in turn kick us out threatening to kill us if we bothered her.
So while lisa was having keggers, and mom was wherever, me and the kids would sit in the pines.
Except rain days Lisa would let Cate and Jer stay but I had to go. I hung out at the neighbors when they'd let me in. What a pitiful sight.
Francis the oldest son of the people next door gave me his paper route I was happy at first I made money and I got to get away from the house. It was a good gig. I had gotten halfway through my rounds which brought me to the opposite side of the lake, when some guy in a chrysler calls me over.
"Hey. You know where Cranberry Lake is"
"What"
"Come here"
I cross the street and walk up to the driver's window.
"Do you know how to get to Cranberry Lake?"
I am about 3 inches from the car and I can see that this guy has his dick in hand and he's jerking it.
He knows I can see him, he smiles nodding toward his member. "Does this turn you on?"
"No." Looking him right in the eye I turned my bike around and went home, throwing the rest of the papers into the lake, bag and all.
Sacrifice the child
The moment you decide to have a child, you also decide to do everything you can to protect, educate and love them.
It's what you should do. If you can't or don't want to then DON'T HAVE KIDS!
What is it with women? You would rather let some stranger hurt your kids, than what? Be alone?
Honey your not alone. If you do it right you'll never be alone you have kids who will love you for the rest of your life.
Unfortunately as far as I'm concerned mom is going to be alone for a long time.
When she first brought Jim around it was nice. We all moved in together and we were becoming the dysfunctional family I'd always dreamt of. I actually took to Jim, I replaced my longing for dad to loving Jim. I was his favorite.
It was the move to Florida that changed it all.
If I knew then what I know now
"Listen to your sister. I'll see you in a couple of days"
I sat in the window seat of the Grey Hound Bus that was now pulling out from Dover NJ.
Lisa took the two seats across the aisle.
"Don't talk to me"
I Pulled out my note book and stared at the figure skater suspended on the cover. It's too hot in Florida, you can't skate in Florida, I hate Florida. I watched my NJ pass away.
It took two uneventful days to get to Tampa, 90 minuets north of Sarasota our new hometown. We got off the bus around 9 and had breakfast in the bus stop waiting for our transfer. Lisa spent our last couple of bucks on a bag of weed so we just sat there, waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.
Our bus finally loaded.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. We are sorry for the wait you'll be off soon. We just want you to know that due to the unfortunate accident we had at the Sky Way you will be going through Palmetto, which will bring you to Sarasota in about three hours."
"God doesn't want me here."
I believe in signs, always have. The bridge being hit by a barge less than 12 hours before were to cross it.
All those dead people.
My stomach hurt. Bad.
At first Jim only picked on Lisa, I didn't care it was the first time I was better than her. After all those years she finally got hers.
When Lisa left that all changed. It was a bitch, he became worse than dad. If there could be a worse.
Alcohol turns people into monsters. The first drink they're all happy and lovey. By the fourth you're too loud, to messy, not quick enough. By the end of the bottle you're a punching bag.
Better you than your sister and brother, right?
We moved five times in the first year and a half.
Aunt Gloryas 12 ft trailer in the retirement community was first. We were there for about a month cramped all 6 of us into a 9ft space. No wonder he started to drink. I'd probably have had a few myself if I knew it could remove you from this reality.
Next came the house off of Tuttle and school.
Sarasota Jr High school was your typical florida school, rows of rectangles divided into boxes connected by concrete slabs suspended from metal beams defying you to pass under them.
I always thought they'd fall on your head.
I walked in the grass.
Nancy Lohemann and I became friends a couple of weeks into the semester, she was my guide into teenhood, not a good guide, not a smart guide, but my guide all the same.
I don't blame anyone for any of the things I chose to do.
I blame them for making me the person who needed to make those choices.
Within a year I went from a screwed up kid to a fucked up teen.
Sitting here trying to write the truth disgust me, on so many levels.
So lets recap
I am 12 years old I have so far endured, physical and sexual abuse, neglect, death, abandonment, then just as I begin to trust some one they beat me. My mother either doesn't believe me, doesn't care or she doesn't know how to care. I don't know, but there I am, living it and I am scared and beaten. Shit! Mom. I'm fucking tired of being beaten. I tell you all the time. I call you at work begging you to tell him to stop. You wouldn't, you hung up. and I ran away. Everyone knows, they aren't stupid mom their parents see the bruises the neighbors talk.
Surviving as a run away in the summer was pretty easy. My friends and their parents just passed me off to each other. It was like I was on a long sleep over. I just ran around siesta key all day, sitting on the beach, playing tennis, being a teen, making friends chasing the sun. At night I stayed at friends always welcomed.
Fall on the other hand.
I guess she though she'd find me the first day of school.
So as I walk up to my 7th grade year actually thinking that I could get away with being a delinquent, she's there at the entrance.
I panic and I run. Right the hell away from her. Id rather live on the streets.
So here's the thing. I've been gone all summer, 3 months, and your looking for me now?
Are you really scared for me or are you pissed that I ran off from you at the school steps?
"Fuck! Its the cops tell Sam to go out on the roof"
They caught me friday night and brought me to Sarasota Palms Psychiatric Hospital
"At the request of the "mother".
I was ok with being there, the people at the desk were friendly, the cops were nice. To be honest I was relieved. I needed a break from running away and I wasn't ready to go home "The Palms" seemed idyllic. I had met a nice guy a couple of years ago who called himself a psychologist, mom is a psychiatric nurse and the places looked nice on TV. When they hit the buzzer for lock down and the 8ft fire doors swung open I freaked, this wasn't like TV! Where are the pretty walls and the flowers? Where are the smiling nurses in white stockings where's the soft music!
"WHERES MY MOTHER!"
I was now staring down a corridor that was animated with fluorescent lights held captive by grates casting a grey checkerboard on the faces of wild men. They were shuffling, cackling, Playing with their junk! They were looking at me! a 5ft 97lb exhausted and scared runaway who at this moment is hanging on for dear life to anything she can grab. Ever try to keep some one somewhere they don't want to be? Ever try to save yourself from harm?
The entrance is now clogged with spectators and players a mélange of white shirts and hospital gowns.
"Get back to your rooms!"
The nuts haven't had this type of excitement in days.
"come on guys let's go" Some big black guy is scooping them up and leading them away.
"Honey let go" A lady is trying to pry my fingers off of a table that is bolted to the floor.
"No" I have my self-wrapped around the leg I'm not going in there.
"Why can't I stay here." my voice sounds like I'm 5 I'm crying and shaking. Jesus I've never been so scared.
Oh God help me. Please help me.
"You can't. Its the rules. You have to go through intake. Drs Orders"
"Can't you call the doctor? Ill be good Ill wait here. Please just call him."
"That's not how it works. Now get up."
"No"
She stands up backs away and nods at the men, who quickly grab my arms and legs. Being wiry and strong I refuse to give up too quick and wedge myself between the wall and leg. They're pulling and I'm scratching digging my nails into them biting and screaming.
"code red at intake all available staff code red at intake" a matter of fact voice announces.
"Does she have an order?"
They're dragging me
"Get it!"
They get my pants down and shoot me in the ass.
"Let me out" My knuckles hurt from banging on the door. I'm dizzy.
"You'll be alright just sit down" a fuzzy face is talking at me through a small rectangle in the door.
"Fuck you!" I can't seem to give him the finger. My hand just hangs there.
"fuck yo...
THORAZINE
So these are drugs......
I slept for days, waking to eat. take my meds, and meet Karen my roommate.
A 27 year old anorexic, multiple, who was having a fit that she had to share a room with that thing.
I didn't care what she was saying.
Thorazine makes you not care.
Thorazine makes you sleep
I slept.
After our time together at the The Palms I finally found love for my mom..I bonded. She was obliged to spend 35 min a week with me, I had her undivided attention for thirty five minuets, she had to love me or act like she did, the Drs watching. You know love can come through a mars bar and grannysmith.
Months, to adults can feel like a week, to a child it can feel like years.
So while she's looking for places to put me, I'm running away and finding her. She'd drop me off at a group home I'd run back to her. She'd drop me off at a Youth ranch 60 miles from home. I'd hitch hike right back to her. I went from one extreme to another. I couldn't be away from her, I wanted my mother, I'm almost 13 and all I want is my mommy. I don't want Jim there, we don't need him. I'm the one they didn't need.
My feelings for my mother had changed, her feelings for me hadn't.
Your going to your fathers
The 50's had sanatoriums. The 80's had STRAIGHT.
'Your going to your fathers"
I'd been home 2 days and she'd already found another place for me. My suitcase was waiting at the door.
"Come on. We have to get your ticket."
I walked right into it, no alarms, no warnings, no travel agent either. I walked right through the doors of hell and into STRAIGHT Inc. an American Gulag. Where a Clockwork orange and Lord of the flies collided creating something scarier than my nightmares. I was led away by Penny and Debbie Oldcomers of the program. The intake room was 12x12 with three chairs, three walls and one door now blocked by the girls who are facing me.
"Sit down" The uglier of the two commands. She looks like a female version of John Cougar, poor girl. Penny reminds me of my Aunt Betsy. Plain.
Woah who the fuck is she? "No" I cross my arms and lean against the back wall.
"I said sit the fuck down"
"Fuck you"
"No, Fuck you." I am now on my ass in a chair and this john cougar bitch is standing over me.
They tell me I am at STRAIGHT and that I am staying, that people from group have told them I do drugs, and have sex.
"LIES!"
The only thing I'd done wrong was runaway.
Being true to form I wasn't convinced and my intake was mixed with yelling crying reasoning threats fights and after 12 hours I was stripped, searched thoroughly and given a someone else's clothes to put on.
Patty came in dismissed the girls and looped her finger through my pants and proceeded to lead me into group.
"your are not to talk for three days."
Panic is mild compared to what I felt.
"Group this is Samantha."
400 eyes dart my way.
"Does anyone know samantha"
A few hands go up.
"Stand up"
It took a couple of seconds to recognize them, my friends looked awful. They were gaunt and pale, lifeless, it's the eyes they had dead stares.
"These are your druggie friends, you are never to have contact with them. Ever"
"What do you say group" some tan guy perched on a bar stool asks.
"HI Samantha! Love you Samantha!"
This isn't good.
I'm placed in first chair, front row, girls side.
"where were we" Tan girl asks She too sits on a barstool.
Hands start flapping kids are seizing everywhere.
"Steve" she calls hands stop immediately Steve shoots out of his chair like a spring and heads snap in his direction.
I didn't listen, I looked around, trying to make out the room through my tears.
I was given to an oldcomer who was instructed to instruct me, we lined up heel to toe said the "Our Father" and filed out to the parking lot where parents waited in their running cars.
Newcomers are NOT allowed to do anything. Nothing. No reading, no talking, newcomers are NEVER allowed to be alone. You go to group at 7am and you return to your host home around 10 if your lucky and live close, midnight if your not and don't. Days were consistent.
5am wake 3min shower eat clean up get in the car go to group. You sat from 7am to 9am Indian style knees to back crammed into a 12x12 room with upwards of fifty girls. If you moved slouched or fell asleep you were reprimanded silently with a poke a shove or at times a slap from another group member. Good days consisted of a spaz. I could only take so much and after weeks of no sleep, badgering, belittling, little food, less water and forced exercise marathons, I lashed out. I took a full swing at the bitch who insisted on spitting in my face. Contact, she reeled, the girls side pounced.
I'm alive! I'm getting my ass kicked but I'm alive!
It sucked having people sit on you, my limbs painfully vibrated from circulation stopped by the weight. I scream someone places their hands over my mouth. I bite her, she screams.
"Stand her up!"
I'm not standing for this piece of shit.
Passive resistance. passive resistance.
It takes three girls to get me quazi upright. The whole time I'm laughing.
God these people are too easy. The more attention they give me the less time they spend droning their bullshit dogma into our heads.
"Who's got something to say?"
Hands flap.
"You don't care about this group"
"Were trying to save you life"
"your an ungrateful bitch who doesn't deserve "the group""
On and on they hurl their shit. We waste the entire morning. No STRAIGHT songs. No STEPS Rap. No girls rap. and now it's lunch. For this I behave, a girls gotta eat, even if it is a choker.
STRAIGHT inc. was created 1979 in St. Pete Florida by Mel Sembler, Frank Zappala and 12 other parents who (against the wishes of the world and God) took a defunct and controversial program called SEED and turning it into a profitable venture. SEED was started as a "confrontational therapy" for Heroin addicted adult men, where confrontation, coercion, and peer pressure was a common practice. The SEED was started by Art Barker a Play Boy Club Comedian and a SYNANON cult member.
I could write a book alone on STRAIGHT Inc. Maybe I will some day.
I wish you could see me right now, twitching, pacing, smoking cig, after cig, doing anything to avoid remembering the torture. My hands feel numb.
STRAIGHT was a non-descript warehouse of children wedged between the drainage ditch of I 75 and the industrial park along Cattleman rd. Anyone driving by would not have known that behind those walls 200 plus children were being forced to sit 12hrs a day in blue plastic chairs, singing STRAIGHT hymns, confessing our sins and memorizing the doctrine. They wouldn't have seen the walls of a 25000 square foot room dripping wet from the sweat of children being forced to exercise for hours. They wouldn't have seen us vomiting, passing out, becoming elated, singing our songs, LOVING STAFF, performing for our food. GETTING STRAIGHT!!!
How could they?
"Coming Home!!!"
The entire room exploded in cheers. I was coming home after 10 months on first phase I was coming home! They let the entire room hug me. I was a success. I had been the longest newcomer, the hardest to break, and now their poster child. I was washed of my druggie past, I am STRAIGHT hear me ROAR, numbers too big to ignore. 9 to 9 I'm doin fine! Zipadee fucking doo dah!
"Love you Mike! Love you Mrs Hunt"
Open Meetings were mandatory! Every Monday and Friday night. Fridays were new recruit and parents night, we seemed to have better nights on friday more kids advanced on a friday. Our confessions were light the air was light. We performed well for the crowd. We sang our songs, we clapped our hands, we sat there robotically taking our cue from staff.
They always brought in a real SWELL graduate to talk about their "successful, wonderful STRAIGHT life". on Fridays
"Love you Mrs. Hunt love yourself Mike"
Monday Open meeting was for executive staff and parents. We weren't happy and light we were exhausted from executive Monday. 9-11 exercise rap 11-12 You ungrateful brats need to learn appreciation and respect rap, 12-1 you druggie selfish kids don't deserve to eat rap. 1-3 you better remember the doctrine or else rap. 3-5 What you are missing rap. AKA what Staff will be doing this weekend and aren't you jealous rap 6-7 rush 200 kids to eat dinner and use a three-stall bathroom rap. 7-9 entertain staff and Executive Staff Rap. 9-12 Monday open meeting AKA Parents you have 5 minuets to grill your child. Love you rap.
"Third phase!" I'm flying through the program 3rd phase in 2 weeks, Wow! I am STRAIGHT. I am right?
Instead of school I get to go to work I'm 14 and I have a job, working for a STRAIGHT backed nursing home. I don't get paid my check goes to STRAIGHT. I should be grateful.
Yeah grateful, grateful for the mind fuck, you sick fucks! Some plans take longer than others.
It happened quick. I started work on Monday I was on the beach by Thursday.
In Sarasota you were either in STRAIGHT, had been in STRAIGHT or knew some one of the latter. Our city was divided into the ProStraights and the sane.
I hid for weeks around the city and on the beach. There were a lot of exStraightlings, I was meeting one or two everyday and they were hiding me. It was surreal, I was happy to be out and I was terrified of the group's reaction when I got caught.
"you fucking whore" I had her by the hair I was screaming at the top of my lungs my throat raw, my heart pounding forcing this rush of power to my brain. Adrenalin a staple for any successful brainwash.
"You ungrateful bitch. You don't care about your parents! you don't care about staff! You don't care about the group!"
I'm screaming spit is hitting her face, she just stands there looking into me. Her eyes tell me "I know you aren't like this, I'm not mad at you. Look I'm Alive!"
Her skin is pink, those twinkling eyes, her smirk.
I hated her!
"Who else has something to say?" Leatha Yost is running girls rap. She's an eighteen year old senior staff and graduate. You can't be staff unless you are a graduate. "Melodie"
I sit staring at Michelle while Melodie screams and cries. I'm all fired up I've been on third phase for days and I get to go to work tomorrow. It's my last full day in group, I want to impress Staff, I want to be STRAIGHT, at that very moment I wouldn't dream of anything else but STRAIGHT. 12 hours, 12 hours until I go out and spread my STRAIGHTLING love.
Days are not fast or slow in STRAIGHT they are groups and raps and songs, you have no concept of time or place. The outside world doesn't matter. It doesn't exist. Michelle Leland brought the outside world into me. I watched her all day. the beach, she smelled of the beach and perfume and the outside and freedom. My head started to wander.
"Lets have a song" We flail and motivate I Motivate the hardest snapping the loudest barely on my seat. Call on me call I pray call on me my hand waving
"Samantha"
"Zipadee doo dah!"
"No, not that one." "some one else"
I sit defeated, "I am straight hear me roar numbers to big to ignore and I know I'll never go that path again...." The rest of the day I thought of leaving.
"Swiffft! Schwoff! Ear."
We sat in a bungalow on the lagoon side of Turtle Key. It was the perfect hide out. We could walk for food. Hang out in seclusion on the beach and party at night. Paradise!
I had lost my pasty glow and was a bit more relaxed, a lot more relaxed I'd just smoked my first joint..... Ahhhh mary jane.
I felt like I was in a bubble kind of like the egg from mork and mindy only see through. People were talking their voices delayed. I was stoned.
"If we were in group we'd be lining up for Boy's rap"
I looked at someone's watch 11am. Was girls rap at 11? every day? I got my concept of time back.
Vets. they like to share war stories. Prisoners of War especially and that's what you had in that bungalow. A group of scared escapees from STRAIGHT the American Gulag for teens. We were POW's in the war on drugs. Talking about what we new best. How we'd survived our incarceration.
Luckily I'd listened.
I'd been on second phase and decided to split again, this time I wasn't sticking around for third phase. STRAIGHT was getting worse. The abuse was worse for all of us. Our food changed Executive staff we especially mean. Dr. Miller Newton was director we as a company were expanding. Atlanta, Detroit, El Paso. Mel and the board franchised STRAIGHT.
When you grow people notice.
Mel was happy, Miller was happy, Nancy Regan was happy, they were making commercials, doing publicities, going on Oprah.
And then the proverbial rug.
I escaped through a window
While HRS and the State Attorney are investigating STRAIGHT. I'm hitch hiking to NJ to find my dad.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"It's Sam. Can you come get me?"
"No, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Please can't I come live with you?"
"No I'm sorry" click
I took 80 all the way to Spokane Washington I spent my 15th birthday at a runaway shelter in Skylar.
The smell of leather
"Go to the bathroom get cleaned"
I got up.
Looking in the bathroom mirror I didn't cry, I tried to cry, it wasn't in me. I was cried out on auto pilot. Survival mode.
Larry was on the phone.
"You done in there?"
"Nooh"
I had just been raped by a fat black pimp and he wants me to get ready.
I'd met Kim and Larry in Spokane, they told me I was gonna be a star. He was a producer, He would take me to LA.
I believed them and I got on that plane and was now in a motel on the blvd being raped by a pimp.
"Oh dear God help me"
and God did.
We were raided before Larry could turn me out. I had agreed to testify if the courts agreed to protect me from STRAIGHT. I kept my promise, the courts did not.
Larry, Kim and Gerri got Jail, I got STRAIGHT.
These Scumbags used my 13 year old sister as a pawn in their game. What ass holes!
I'm walking toward Cate but my eyes are darting everywhere. STRAIGHTLINGS I could feel their presence. Cate looks to her right I look to my left. Bam! Tackled at the Goal. Two STRAIGHT dads Mark and Mike Chtiwood their mother and my mom.
"No Fucking Way! No Fucking Way! I'm Not Going Back!"
"Oh Yes you are."
It took an hour to get my ass to the van. and just as long to get me in it.
With all said and done we had, black eyes, fat lips, scratches, bruises, a broken finger and three sets of very sore balls. I had rope burns from being hog-tied and a fat lip. The rest of the trip was noisy and uncomfortable.
"Lets have a song" Theresa Starr saw us coming in and got off the barstool.
"I'm hear at STRAIGHT and feeling GREAT 9 to 9 I'm doin fine......
Miller walked up to the front with me and Pam Guidrey-Casslor Senior staff.
The group finishes their song.
"Group this is Samantha. Who remembers Samantha?" only 1/2 the group raises their hands. How long had I been gone?
"Mary Azadian stand up" "What do you have to say"
"Your a druggie whore"
"Lisa Ringland"
"Your a druggie whore"
"Michelle Leland"
"Your a Druggie Whore"
I'm not listening. I'm rocking in my head "We're all alright We're all alright.. Surrender Surrender but don't give yourself away"
5 minuets 5 hours it didn't matter I hadn't heard a word
"What do you have to say to the group"
"FUCK YOU!!!"
I turn to Miller "Love Yourself Miller"
Hands are flying. People are pissed. Staffs standing there looking from Miller to me and back again.
I'm smirking. I'm a BIG girl now you fuck head.
"Take her to time out"
It took every bit of control for him not to hit me. His grip alone is about to break my arm.
"Get your fucking hands off of me"
Pam who had me by the pants, now lays under me, her finger twisted in my belt loop, snaps.
She's screaming
"My finger my finger" "Get her off of me!"
I spent two weeks in time out.
I want out. Float through the pain sister float through the pain
I want OUT! I think I'll stay in here a while, Da dah da dah da deh da deh da dah.
I WANT OUT!
"Is she insane!?" I am covered in blood, shit, rotten food. I refuse to stop rocking. Da dah da dah da deh da deh da dah.
"Samantha. Samantha! Look at me!" I keep humming, rocking.
"Go get executive staff." No one moves they're all staring. "Now! Get staff!"
"Geezh this place smells" Miller pokes his head in the door. I know its him, I see his shoes.
I want to hit him, I want to scream, I want to rush the door and run. instead I sit there Da dah da dah da deh da deh da dah and rock.
"Well let's clean this mess up." "We've got three hours to open meeting".
After the complimentary solitude confinement and reprogramming practices, I was allowed to rejoin the group. I didn't spaz, I didn't get STRAIGHT, I didn't do anything accept sit there and play eye games with Rob Kennedy. A blond haired Blue eyed Jr Staff who made a deal with me.
I got 2nd phase in less than 30days and free from STRAIGHT in 60.
How do you foster a broken child.
"Hi, Samantha Monroe? Chuck Dialey" A man no taller than myself is awkwardly standing there, staring at me.
"Uh um. I'm your intake worker from HRS" raising his files at me. "You doing ok?"
Uh Ok? Dude I'm sitting in detention.
"Yeah. How long do I have to stay here?"
"Well we don't have a home for you yet and the shelters are full, It should only take a couple of days." Understatement of the year.
"In the mean time, I need to ask you a few questions."
I size him up. "Can I smoke?"
"sure, sure. Ill make sure you have money for smokes before I go." He lights my cigarette.
In JDC you aren't allowed to own a lighter, you can however own cigarettes.
"Want one?" I hold out my pack of Marlboro Reds.
"No, Thanks, I don't smoke"
"So why do you have a lighter?"
Chuck and I became friends. With the way HRS runs, which is for shit, Chuck really tried to do his best.
"You know Sam, your a smart kid. Your gonna be ok." I know he's sincere he's tearing up.
"A mailman? Chuck mailmen go crazy, the job sucks Dude. you'd rather be a mailman than work for HRS? How fucking bad is your job?"
"Pretty bad."
We walked around Dexereux, It was my 16th birthday and Chuck came. Like he promised, he came.
"Sweet sixteen. did you get my card?" Chuck always sent cards I loved Chuck.
"I'm sorry you're here."
"Me too"
"So when ya gonna adopt me?" I knew he never would, he never offered. I believe he would have if it was possible.
"Cindy Johnson will be your new caseworker. Do you remember Cindy?"
I'll never forget Cindy.
"Monroe your out."
"See ya Sam"
"Good luck girl"
"don't forget to call my mom and leave your number"
I was sad to leave. Juvenile detention was cake compared to STRAIGHT.
"Bye guys." I waved down at the kids playing cards in the common area.
"Hi, I'm Cindy" An amazon compared to me Cindy was Tall and well fed, I'd say a German/Sweede mix and a hippie to boot.
"Is this it?" She was holding my pillowcase.
"Yup"
"Well, we'll have to get you some vouchers"
"what are vouchers?" Her legs are three times longer than mine I half jog half run to keep up.
"For clothing. Get in."
I didn't ask where we were going.
"I'm hungry."
"I'll stop on the way to the shelter."
We met around 10:30 am and at 1pm she's telling me that I am having an abortion. I didn't even know I was pregnant. Almost three months?
Where was I? 90 days ago.
As promised Cindy did stop for food.
"Chuck will be by to see you tomorrow." I laid in a strange bed in a stranger house eating KFC and watching tv.
"It" was never mentioned again.
Have you ever seen the movie "Honkey Tonk Freeway" Yeah me neither. If you get a chance there's this scene where a water tower is blown up on I 75, The trailer like home in the background that was my Emergency Shelter. It was exactly 3 miles from STRAIGHT.
"We love you Saam, Oh yes we doo. When you're not STRAAIIGHT, we're bluuue. Oh Saam we love you"
These straight fucks are holding a vigil across the street, from what's supposed to be an "Emergency Shelter" Glorya's in front holding a candle.
"Give me a fucking break"
"Chuck I can't take this anymore"
"Lets talk about why your here."
Why? You wanna know why! you stupid fuck! I'm fucking here because you fucks won't let out! I'm here because everyone hates me. I'm here because people won't leave me the fuck alone! I'm here because for fifteen years I have been molested, tortured, starved, kidnapped, beaten, and raped. Why am I here because you fucking fucks don't have a clue. I'm here because God hates me. I'm here because I hate me. That's why I'm here you stupid ignoramus dirty old fuck!
Staring at the perv whos now looking at my boobs, I adjust my lip gloss recross my legs and say nothing.
M Samantha 15 F
weight 99lbs
BP80/120
temp100
Pulse120 resting
Diagnosis depression, compulsive, provocative, defiant, "borderline personality disorder".
"We recommend a 60 day eval."
"Hold her down"
"Get her legs"
"WHY! WHY! WHY!?"
"There's nothing wrong with me!"
I stayed in foster care for two years. I won't try to convince you that I was a great kid I wasn't. I was a confused, traumatized kid who now existed in a deceiving package.
I won't even try to defend my mistakes.
I do have to interject a few things though.
HRS never had a clue. One half of the team was investigating STRAIGHT the other half is receiving the broken kids from STRAIGHT. So they have all this information and they let STRAIGHT exist and they hid us in Hospitals and treatment centers. Not once EVER did they address the issues with me or anyone else. Not once did I receive counseling. Not once did they ever have an Iota of an Idea what those sick fucks did to us. To me!
I now believe that I am worthless a druggie a whore I believe that I don't deserve love and I believe that everything that has happened is my fault and I am bad and I am a shit and I am not worth life. I believe it because STRAIGHT said so. I believe it because no else has told me otherwise.
Devereux was no better than STRAIGHT. I arrived to a locked unit of 40 teens all dually diagnosed all scared all on meds, shuffling around a 20x20 room in their robes and slippers.
"You have to be dressed by 8. If your cold you can wear a sweater or a robe, but you have to be dressed by 8"
"Your allowed two books in your room. Do you like to read?"
"You have to store all your bath Items here"
Hi I'm Shannon and I'll be your tour guide for this trip.
"You have to stay in the day room until after rounds and meds then you can go back to your room. If there's a staff that wants to sit up there"
"No lying on the couch's"
"You must take all of your meds, no sharing."
Are you kidding me?
"Smoke breaks are every hour do you have cigs?"
I hold up my pack.
"What's your name again?
"Sam" It barely escapes my throat.
"Oh, Yeah. Hey! Tina this is Sam. She's from Florida!"
"Shut up Shannon" some fat redhead snarls from the table of four.
"Yeah fuck off CARP"
"Denisha, you just lost your break" A voice says from behind me.
"yeah? I don't care!" "Fuck you Rocky" Dee flips him off.
Devereux is a combination of Juvenile detention and Psychiatric Hospital on a pristine 200 acre campus located in Kennesaw bum fuck Georgia.
It had three units. The girls, the boys and lock down.
I spent a year and a half at Devereux, I was given a cocktail of drugs that made me lethargic, brian dead, I was in BCR and put in restraints over 40 times. I saw a "therapist" once a month. Group therapy was once a day. Rules therapy was once a week. In the am we had Grievance and Med therapy and in the evening we had meds and TV therapy, Staffs choice.
They had all these "therapies" but never touched on the real issues that brought us there in the first place. In adolescent treatment it isn't about healing a broken child, It's about modifying their behavior, making them act appropriate, regardless of how they feel. It's about having a child conform to an adult world, adult behaviors, adult beliefs and adult feelings. All the while struggling with being a kid. Mix in the natural changes, hormones, chemicals, the real brain, shake that up with medications like, thorazine, mellaril, stellazine.
"Sam pack up your leaving" As quick as they decided to put me there, HRS decided to take me out.
For 18 months I'd been in an institution, on medication, under strict control and observation, then I am left at a house cold turkey from the meds. still no counseling for the hell I'd been through. I have no idea how to be normal, how to fit in, my mind and spirit are dead.
I walked away from HRS march 1985. They closed my case October 1985 my Eighteenth Birthday.
I wish this were the part where I walk off into the sunset happily ever after, I wish my mom and I had worked things out, I wish I had been a healed adjusted adult ready to face the world. I wish I had had a clue.
Leaving wasn't hard, I went out one night hooked up with friends and never returned to my foster home, they collected the checks and cashed them, my caseworker was on maternity leave. No flags no search.
I wandered for a long time going from Betsy's in Lufkin, To Enids in Bowling Green. I finally ended in NJ. Right back to the start the place 7 years ago I dreaded to leave.
For seven years I'd been without family, I had changed, drastically at eleven I was tiny, sensitive, naive, somewhere, in-between life, I became a woman.
It doesn't matter how you look, if your screwed up your screwed up.
I moved in with Tom on my 19th birthday. I wasn't in love, I didn't have dreams of marriage, I was a sad lonely homeless girl who knew that she had a place to stay if she treated him nice. It wasn't hard he was 23 had a job, good looking, nice and he liked to party.
I had it pretty good, All the pot I wanted, coke and the City on weekends, pretty clothes a nice house, a car. Tom gave it all to me.
Still I had this empty feeling, in my soul. I wanted more, I wanted to be more, I wasn't happy.
I didn't care about clothes, cars, money. I didn't know what I was missing I just knew I was missing it. Missing out on life, on the world, on everything.
I had visited Cate Thanksgiving break at ESU and was enrolled for the summer program a week later.
Living on campus was a mixed bag, I liked the experience and hated it at the same time. Kind of how I felt about College in general. I certainly wasn't emotionally ready, and partied more than I studied. The last formal education I had experienced was 7th grade. Which I didn't even finish.
Did you ever make the same mistake over and over and over?
Leaving is getting easier for me. I don't plan or say good-bye, I just pack the car and leave, that's it. "see ya".
Except when it comes to my mother, who I have decided is my reason to be. If I can get her to accept me, to approve of me, to be proud if me. I'd be alright.
"Lets talk about why you're here"
"It's my mother" I'm in a cold pleather chair socks, underwear, hospital gown and a blanket.
"Good luck Samantha."
I moved in with Daryl on my 22nd birthday. I needed a place to stay.
"Praise Jesus" "Alelujah!" "Praise God, Jehova!"
I found Tampa Christian around the time they found Tampa Bay an untapped heathen city with MONEY!!
I fell hook, line and sinker. They were so friendly, everybody was beautiful, smiling, full of Christ's Love.
And.
"He loves you too!"
"What's a lock in?"
"Its where we stay from friday night to sunday night worshiping and fellowshiping'
"Is there food?"
"Yup"
"Cool I'll come"
By Sunday I am so full of Christ's love I'm shitting sacramental wafers. I've renounced my sins, been baptized and born again. Amen!
"Welcome to newborn group"
"Were here to help you in your walk with Christ"
"Let' s have a prayer. Who wants to start."
We all raise our hand, I stop myself from motivating, barely.
"Brother Dave"
"Lord."
I wanted to be a good Christian. I really did. I prayed I read my bible, baked cakes, fellowed with the women attended every service meeting and I gave them my checks every Sunday.
Putting my weekly paychecks into that bowl made me believe that God was happy with me.
"The more you give"
"Randy"
"Samantha!" He smiles from his desk "Come in Come in"
Randy White is a charismatic Benny Hinn follower. He started "Without Walls" SouthTampa Christian Center with his wife Pauls about a year before I had Joined
"Nice Office"
I had a problem, I needed his help.
He wasn't smiling.
"I want to be a good Christian, I want to set an example, I don't want to live with my boyfriend in sin"
"I've been giving you all my money"
"I prayed for an answer."
"Wouldn't God give some of it back?"
"Hello Mom"
"Lets talk about why you're here"
I moved in with Ted a month before my 24th birthday.
Oh God will I ever learn!!!!
I'd done it! I got my own apartment. I had a job. I was ok.
Then my boss asked me for sex and I got fired.
When nothing else works, kill yourself.
I walked to the ACME three blocks from my place and bought a bottle of Tylenol PM. It wasn't dramatic or romantic. I went home drank a beer and ate half the bottle.
Tylenol PM will rip you up. I woke up choking on vomit. I was in pain and I was puking blood. I didn't care I wanted to die.
I took the other half of the bottle.
Hello mom.
$200.00 and a One way ticket
Some times you just seem to fall into step.
"Bien venue a floreed, sorry kids that's all my French."
"I'm Samantha and I'll be your director. On behalf of EF and the United States welcome"
29 days 20 kids and a hefty paycheck waiting at the end.
"Jay. what ya doin?"
"Nothing"
"Meet me lets get a drink. I have a surprise"
I left for France September 27th 1993.
I was never so sure of myself as I was landing in Paris with no return ticket and $200.00. I was FREE I was new, I was going to be whoever I wanted.
It took two round trips and four families before I was enrolled in school and legal.
The DesVignes were a blessing, Alex and M.C. were the reflection of their mothers beauty and grace with a bit of their fathers cynicism. Perfect Young ladies. Their sweet accents, smart minds and big brown eyes. I fell in love with them immediately.
I know they loved me too, they trusted me with their kids. I trusted them to teach me about family.
My love life consisted of Aurelien a closeted french boy, and Bruno a Philosophy professor who taught me about sex.
The rest of my life there was amazing unforgettable a blessing. I traveled all over France. I spent a summer hiking through Scotland. I went to museums, orchestras, and ballets. I learned to cook, paint, appreciate opera (well at least tolerate it). I made friends from everywhere, Poland, Africa, Spain, Italy, Heaven. Yes Heaven. I made friends with God. I didn't listen to him, I didn't always trust in him. Still, We were friends.
Graduating from the Catholique University should have made me happy.
"Je suise desolee mlle. C'est le droit"
"Oui je sais mais..."
"I am sorree you ave no time left. Youe wisa is fini"
"I'll write. I'll miss you. Ill visit I promise"
"We love you samm"
"Gudby Sahm" Their sweet voices still ring in my head.
Hello mom?
I landed in Miami July 14th 1997
If there's one thing I've learned it's; sometimes your not the crazy one, it is them and maybe just maybe it wasn't your fault.
It took another two years to realize Glorya Jane was never going to change. She will never be a good mother to me and I can not be around her. She is toxic. I am allergic.
Some times God steps in, and lets you fall.
"You are sentenced to three years probation and mandatory counseling" It was the last time I'd see mom until cates wedding.
"Lets talk about why your here"
Lou Anne took another cigarette and lit it from the tip of her first.
"Well let's see...."
I told her everything, all my secrets all my pain. I told her about mom and dad, Lisa, Straight HRS Devereux. My suicide attempts. My beliefs about religion, God, the universe. I told her about my heightened intuition, my nightmares and nightsweats, my insomnia and anorexia. For three hours I ranted on about everything and Lou listened. Without interruption without correction she listened intently.
"Wow, that's fucked up" Her gruff voice softened by her compassion.
"Yeah I know. What the fuck am I gonna do Lou? I'm.."
I throw up.
"Well tonight your going to go home and take a bath, and try to get some rest. I want to see you tomorrow 8am ok?"
My apartment was one room with a kitchenette and a shower that electrocuted you. It was awful located right in crack town, it was all I could afford. I stayed there for three months saving money and moved into a duplex September 1 2000. Dunedin was a small town and close to both work and Lou's office, I didn't have a car but I did have a scooter.
"How much?"
"$400.00"
"I'll take it"
I drove home my bubble gum pink Riva on the spot. It felt liberating.
Transportation gives you freedom and movement.
Alot of things changed in September.
"The World Trade Cent[/quote]
