ME
Family
When I was 3 years old, Somebody put a pillow over my face until I could almost no longer breathe. When the pillow was removed, I could see myself, as though I was standing next to the bed looking at me. I can only describe it as deeper lines around my mouth. This came about when my mother announced it was bedtime.
When I was 4 or 5 years old my mother had to run right across the street to Mr. Dixon’s store. Oh boy, my chance to sneak into the chocolate prescription medicine we were taking at the time. As I remember, it looked like it had peanuts in it. Now that I think about it that must have been the medicine. Uh oh, mom returned before I could access the goods. I was met with, “Give me that and get out of that chair!” At that time, I was the baby of the family, #4 of 5. My little brother was to come 4 years later. My cousins lived down the street. There were 9 kids down there. An inherent safety net.
In 1968, the aunt that lived down the street passed away. She had given birth to a baby girl and shortly thereafter, she passed away. Of the 9 kids, 3 came to live with us-the oldest girl, the baby girl and a 4-year-old boy. One day us children returned home from school. My mother looked over the living room and told us to get our books and such and straighten up the place. Well, this 7-year-old thought, all of this stuff is not mine. I picked up my cousin’s shoe (the 4-year-old) and threw it at him. Of all the cubic inches on the human body, that shoe hit him dead in the nose. NOTE: This guy had nosebleeds just walking down the street. Uh oh, the commotion, the pandemonium!
A Bloody Nose A Tanned Hide
My mother came into the room and then she exited it. Then she came back with her belt. Da Da Da Dum! The blood and gore from his nose, initiated beef with my mother that I could have done without. No need explaining about cubic inches or how I didn’t mean to do it. I was immediately met with whacks on the backside that said I had better not touch her nephew again, who was 6 years old now. And although I didn’t get a lick in edgewise, I have to say it was the fairest fight I have ever been in. I committed a transgression, infraction, crime, offense, and I was corrected. End of story. It was a loving and protected environment. The older kids went downtown for piano lessons and the younger ones tagged alone.
Our neighborhood park was down the street in the next block, right across the street down there where my cousins lived. We would cut through good ole Franklin Park to go to get our vaccinations. Ever so briefly, we would try to play on the merry-go-round or the swings, only to be met with, “Come on, we have to stay clean until we see the Dr!”
One day I woke up to Christmas morn. One of my presents was new skates. Wow! Winters in Chicago can be brutal. Not that year, that year on that day, it was unseasonably warm. I saw out the window that other kids, kids I didn’t know from other streets were out there with their skates. Oooh momma, can I take my skates out too? That was so much fun
My birthday is also in the winter. But one summer day I was summoned home. Guess what happened? I got a new car, I mean bicycle! It wasn’t my birthday, or Christmas or anything! Just a blessed day. She treated all of the children that way. My cousin and little brother had matching suits. The little brother who was purposefully born at home under the Newberry Project. I remember, my aunt was there. I remember shopping for my clothes both in person and the Sears catalog.
A Happy Kid
And we had child geniuses in our neighborhood too! We built our own hotrods. You know, the kind with the baby buggy/shopping cart wheels? And don’t find an old chair; this determined backrest or not. When we were 5 or 6, 6 or 7, you remember that kid I hit in the nose with the shoe? We used to play outside when we discovered the lady across the street needed someone to go to the store for her on Saturdays. We had a hustle, woo hoo! Just like my oldest brother June who had a paper route. I remember arguing with the oldest brother all the time. There is nothing like mother’s apron when it comes to older siblings. A 10-cent bribe not to tell on him was rather…great. Moms always said we didn’t get alone. I thought we got along just fine.
Trick or Treat! Need I describe the ¼ full pillowcase or the lantern, bag, or pockets full of candy? I will say that when you got home, it was like pouring out pure gold.
Jiffy Pop popcorn. Family Classics with Frazier Thomas, 2-5 pm on Sundays as I remember. Classic movies with class acting. Moby Dick. Paul Muni. Public Enemy. Bette Davis. Captain’s Courageous. Loretta Young-remember when she wanted to get that letter back that her deranged husband had a hand in mailing.
In the first grade, Mrs. Walker’s class, room 107, we were given a list of spelling words. They straightened the hair on the back of my neck. Here they are: Who. What. Where. When. Why. And How. May as well have been supercalafra, yeah, that one. Where became What. When became Why. That is until my mother helped me to straighten it out alphabetically. W-H-A-T, now sound it out. Now see, that can’t be Where, which has the rrrr or roar sound. Yeah, I didn’t rush to go outside that day. I wanted those words! I got them too. Heyyy! Went outside victorious that day!!
On the Horizon In the 2nd grade, Ms. Julia’s classroom 102 I believe, we had a party. No, maybe 202. Everyone brought what they were supposed to except for the records. The 45s. The little big CDs. Terry Gaston, Tweety we called him, of the Tripp Street Gaston’s, brought the only record-Rock it to me. Sock it to me. Just remembering elementary school reminds me that my mother would just show up. When all of a sudden, schoolmates would say, “hey, your mothers at the door.” Her and the teacher would then have an impromptu meeting about how smart I was (lol).
I can recall playing outside. The fire hydrant on a hot day. Hopscotch. Hide and Seek. Baseball-when Somebody hit me under the eye with a baseball bat. The Whip, with Big Buggy Lewis at the helm.
I remember once when we were outside and Somebody, who was 9 years older than me, met up with a group of her peers. One of their names was Geraldine. Somebody starts stepping on the back of her shoes to make the shoes start coming off so that Geraldine would have to put her shoes back on properly. This was happening because of their shared love interest. Geraldine did nothing to stop the manipulation of her shoes. She was nervous.
The winner of this prize was Somebody, who ran away from home to be with her love interest, then ran back home to contemplate the birth of her child. On that day I awakened to her return to find her eating my fudge-striped cookies. A marriage was arranged because this man was nearly 30 and she was just 15 years old going on 16.
Mom’s Gone
By 1971, I was in Mrs. Christianson’s 3rd grade class. Rm 208, moving on to the bigger kid’s floor. It was at this time that my mother began to take sick. She was having to go to the hospital. I remember once when I came home from school, she had come home. I still remember the shock and happiness from seeing her there. I remember my happy welcome. I also remember once when I came home from school, and she was gone again. My middle brother who is 4 years older than I am used to sneak me into my mother’s hospital room so I could see her too. What a sight I must have been going to visit her on the fly like that…straight from playing outside. No mother at home to make sure your visit to wherever is met with the proper etiquette. I wonder how she felt about this picture. Being grown now myself, I think I know.
About this time, our landlord, Mr. Phillips, was losing his building and we had to move. One day I was at our new place and a phone call came. I don’t know, I can’t say the phone rang any differently, but when the phone rang, I knew. Connie, that oldest niece that came to live with us, took the call. She made the announcement through tears. I didn’t cry until my oldest brother came home. It wasn’t long before he arrived, oblivious to the fact that our mother was gone. For the first time in my life, I saw my big brother cry. He was 18 years old. That was February 29, 1972.
That 18-year-old young man took my 12yo brother and my 4yo brother to live with him. Somebody took me. They got 2 apartments in one building. When you step over the threshold of the front door, you are looking straight into the master bedroom. Left hand at your side. Raise your left arm. That’s the living room. Turn your head to the right 35-40 degrees. That’s the 2nd bedroom. Raise your right arm. You are now pointing down a hallway. Halfway down that hall to the right was the master bathroom. At the end of the hallway was the dining room, then the kitchen. Cross the threshold of the kitchen, to the right was the kitchen sink, to the left a washing machine, a ½ bath, then a back bedroom. That one was mine.
Where Am I? All Alone
As I remember, we received beds and things from the outreach department. In the beginning 3 twin beds were lined up in that 2nd bedroom. Me, my brother, and Somebody’s son all slept in that bedroom in the beginning. The back, or maid’s bedroom was their playroom. It was a place where they burned incense, smoked weed, drank beer and looked at dirty movies with their company. It was painted black but there were drippings of a red based color that glowed in the dark around the walls of that room off the kitchen. The kitchen was my responsibility to keep clean. And if one dish wasn’t washed properly, I had to wash them all over again-in a way there is nothing wrong with that. This included baby bottle washing and making baby formula. We also had to make sure potty-training underwear was kept clean. We put up toys and cleaned up any other messes that were made. We also had to keep the tub cleaned no matter who was in it last. One Saturday, Somebody stood outside of that master bedroom and said to her husband something to the effect of, I can’t believe you want to teach her that. Although that is kind of paraphrased, I ask, how many ways are there to paraphrase that? I was standing in the dining room facing her when she said it and her body was facing me as her head was turned to the direction of her bedroom and husband. Still, I had no idea of what was in store.
At this time, my little brother still lived on the second floor with my other brothers. One day I pulled my little brother to the side. I told him, “When they ask you where and who you want to live with say June.” I had heard they were trying to place him with Somebody. That little kid did what I told him to do. But they asked him like 7 or 8 times. He then relented and said the expected-Somebody. Conversation over. Now we were both with her.
A New Game
One day my little brother and I were singing a song called, once you fall in love (its heavy falling out). Somehow, it came about that he began to spell heavy, one of the words in the song. He spelled it H-E-V-Y. I was proud of that 4yo. The A hides, it is silent. He got beat for that. Momma’s baby. Somebody beat the fuck out of him. Remember the “prize” she married? He couldn’t even read. I remember she would sound out words to/for him. By 1973, they had 3 children. Let’s say one of their names was Valentina. He would sound it out and spell it, V-L-E-T-N-A, and Somebody would award him the Congressional Medal of Honor.
Living there, we learned a new game. We named it, “Count the Licks”. When one of us got beat, the other one would count how many licks the other one would receive. It was usually in the 60-90 range with an extension cord for nothing…like not spelling heavy. Or the inability to account for dirty underwear well hidden by her potty trainees. Or you would get last week’s dinner pinched out of you if you did something like taking her a glass of water with a spot on the glass.
I would think about that bike my mother bought me. How I used to ride it further than I should have. Outside exploring a kid’s world. I would pick and try to sell berries that grew on the fence. I should have made a killing on such a rare commodity for I never saw berries like that in the grocery store. Additionally, the store was now a place I went before and /or after school to do the family grocery shopping if needed. I often walked into my classroom both late and unkempt. There was no more shopping for school clothes either out of necessity or just because.
Spring of ‘72
Although I could still go outside, it now came with a 30-minute stipulation. Why? Because one of her children may have needed a bottle, diaper change, or something. 3 toddlers? You can bet that in about 30 minutes that one of them would need something. That 15yo that made the decision to run away from home had 3 children by 1973 and was grossly overweight. One day, her husband brought this woman to the house. We knew who she was, her name was Gladys. He told his wife, “You said you were gonna whip her ass, here she is, do it”. He and the woman were having a laugh and almost needless to say, she did not touch that grown woman. She was not Geraldine. She was not me.
One day it was getting to be about bedtime. I was the only one in the dining room. Her husband came in there. I don’t remember the conversation, only that he tried for a civil interaction. I remember he even smiled and exited mannerly. Shortly thereafter, it was time for bed. I went to sleep and was later awakened by her husband. I was disoriented, confused, and a kid. He said we were gonna do something. He said we would have to be quiet, so we didn’t wake anybody up.
It would happen in that back bedroom and also on that washing machine that sat across from the kitchen sink; it was a height that was conducive to his motives as I sat on the edge of it. I was scared. I would say, “Somebody is going to come.” He would say, “no she is not.” Over the years, I can’t tell you how true I’ve come to believe that statement to be. Because sometimes I would approach her bedroom when she was asleep. Let’s say, I was on my way to school and was trying to tip-toe to the door (so I wouldn’t have to go to the store). Before I fully made the attempt, those eyes were open. Or, “I think some food is burning!” Before I could start the sentence, those eyes were open. I find it funny that a 200+lb, 6’1 or 2” man could make it out of that bedroom without those eyes opening. That was my Spring of ’72.
Contrary to Mom
Well after the Spring of ’72, Somebody told me a story. This came from a household that was not big on Aesop’s Fables. When my mother was living, we lived at 1307 S. Tripp St. in Chicago Ill. Her story went, there was a candy house on Keeler St., the block behind us. She said one day she went to buy candy from that old man and he touched her in a bad way (inappropriate now). She said she came home and told momma. She says that momma went around there and all she knows is that that man moved. I felt the urge to blurt out, someone is bothering me! But I knew instinctively not to say that. As she studied me, she knew I wouldn’t either.
Another story she told me after the abuses were in full force, was when momma gave her and the oldest girl cousin money to go shopping to get outfits they wanted. They got skirt sets. And oh boy, they wore them to Marshall High on a cold day. They nearly froze out there waiting for the bus with those skirts on in Chi-town. In 6th and 7th grade now, I wanted new clothes. I wanted the treatment of my mother. I don’t know how I made it. I laughed with her about her recollection. It only made me wish for my mother. I wished I could go shopping for that basic physical and mental necessity.
All I got was a big bag of dirty clothes. We lived 3 “short” Blocks from Madison Ave. where the laundromat was located. Allow me to describe that laundry bag. It was this huge cloth bag, that had a dull green color with thin blue circles from bottom to top. Filled with clothes, it was nearly as tall as me. Well, we did figure it would be better to roll that and that’s how we made it. And with a little box of detergent, yeah that cheap one, they had better be clean.
Help
By the time I had to make sure Somebody’s son was taken and picked up from kindergarten, her husband had left her. As I entered Jr High, things changed again. Now she wanted freedom. Her desire for freedom meant that I could be sitting in class and suddenly, I would be summoned to the principal’s office. Then I would have to leave school and go home. Do you remember cousin Connie, the niece that came to live with us? She had a father-in -law. That’s who Somebody took up with. Apparently, before school was out for me, the bar had opened, and they had better plans. Now my plans included making sure everyone ate dinner and went to bed. I had tasks such as these as I watched her take funds that was meant for the house, being used to buy booze and her new beau 2- and 3-piece suits. She dressed him fine as the children in her household were both ill-shod and ill-clothed. Money. We got none. You can keep the change from going to the store. No. However, after a timely plea for some type of allowance, she departed with $3-5 worth of food stamps when they were issued.
Whether I went to school and was summoned home, or I just didn’t go that day, I was now home on a regular basis. That left time. And an idle mind is a playground for the devil. And no, I wasn’t grown, but I wasn’t innocent either. No one was there to stop me. I was the oldest (or next to the oldest) kid in the house. I could have friends come over…male friends. I also had the task of marking the calendar each month.
One day I found out that we were going to have to move. I guess when government subsidies are not well spent, moving is the next thing to do. With no apartment forthcoming, guess what? My little brother and I got to go and stay with my older two brothers on the southside. 6329 S. May St. OMG! Normalcy! A brother who worked in the post office and a sister-in-law that worked retail. I had a niece and nephew there to whom I wasn’t a personal servant. I could just walk outside or go to the park there on 64th and Racine. I could go to the Englewood theatre. I could help with the kids or just go to the store for a treat. I could do totally innocent and healthy things. Then Somebody called my new guardians. She spoke with them about nothing much and then she wanted to speak to me. Her ammunition was the calendar I had(not) marked. Her question to me was, “Did my new place know that I was pregnant?” I hung up the phone. She called back. If I wasn’t going to tell them then she would. And she did
Free…Almost
As near as I can recall, we moved to the oldest brother’s house in the late Spring of ’76. School had already let out for the year and there was no travelling to and from the westside to finish out the school year. Just me and lil’ brother fully enjoying a summer. At any rate, my brother, sister-in-law, and I discussed my then current predicament. After one of the most meaningful summers of my life, I enrolled in Pregnant Girls School (Simpson) in the Fall.
In December of ’76 my child was born at my brother’s house. I remember settling in, helping out and going to school. Then one day, we were informed that the landlady, Mrs. David, who lived upstairs, said there were too many people in her apartment. That was the Summer of ’77. And not only that, but by ’79, my brother and his wife had split up after a 10+ year run. However you look at it, the extra weight of the situation would have to be carried by me, the person who decided, however inadvertent to make the baby. We had to move back with Somebody. Again, the difference was like night and day. Back to the Westside Story. Now I was really grounded. I was the live-in maid. Someone there that cared if the house was straight. To cook if there was food in the house or to make do if there wasn’t. Things were just going from bad to worse. She was either sleep, gone, or at home and broke.
Still, after I had my child, she never touched me again. There were bouts of intimidation but don’t hit me. Then in September of ’77 she gave birth to her 2nd son. I did not keep her children when she went to the hospital to give birth. But with just me and my daughter there, I cleaned the place from top to bottom. We enjoyed our few days of solitude. By the end of 1977 we were on the verge of losing that place too.
Had to go Back
It was one of those situations that happens rather spontaneously. ELS worked in the plants there and maybe we could make it there a little better. It was decided that we would move to Michigan. That was February of 1978. It was the last Tuesday in the month. Happy Days came on that night. At any rate as we were settling in, Somebody made the announcement that she had to go back to Chicago to finalize things there. There we were in Michigan with ELS, her 3 oldest children and my baby; she took her 5-month old son with her. At some point, ELS went to get some type of assistance for the children. This put protective services in things. They discussed taking her children out of that house. Boy, was I calling back to Chi-town to give her the information. Then, although I was young, they were going to let me be the guardian. I called that back too. So, about May, when I was almost their guardian, she made it back. When she made it back, she got to keep her kids and of course I had mine. And that is how, as a minor, I became head of my own household.
Nevertheless, we began to settle in our day-to-day routines. I enrolled myself into school. And there I met like-minded constituents. Think about it, you always meet like-minded people at school. There are those who make every class and those that don’t. I was of the latter. It was where I began my experimentation with marijuana. And although I was a teenager, I don’t recall going into a store where I could not buy liquor. Sometimes I went to school and sometimes I didn’t. That’s a sad statement for any student to make. I wish I had fully understood the choice I was making. Still, now it was time for me to find my own place. I could not be controlled anymore. End of control. End of her fun. Now I leave. About 2 years of that and I decided to move back to Chicago (I had to go get FatAss,
Letstalkaboutdeath19.com). After a year or two in Chicago, I decided to go back to Michigan where I stayed until 2012.
This is how child abuse began for me. We will talk further about its ramifications.