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It’s just a
matter of...
...
Time.
You’re wondering … “Why would he start out a
story like that?” and you’re saying, “Not
only does it sound silly, but you didn’t even bother
to capitalize.” It may seem ridiculous to you
now, but by the time that I’m finished …They’ll be
words that you’ll never forget.
Although I’ve always tried to be tender and remain a
gentleman, from time to time, my rough edges come to
the surface … And I’m just as good as any man is for
bringing out the wrath in a woman. I remember one
incident when a female threw a drink in my face.
She was a little thing, but after she threw that
second drink right into my eyes and then tried to
block my escape … I slapped the hell out of her,
shoved her out of my path and made my getaway. I’m
not proud if it, but most males know that many
females are quite capable of doing whatever it
takes, to get their way. This narrative goes way
beyond all of that. Here’s how it all started…
As I
earlier wrote about my children and remembered their
childhood, this story began developing and took on a
life of its own … But it didn’t seem to fit in well
anywhere except here. This is a tough story for me
to tell because it involves something I’ve never had
much exposure to. This is a story of domestic
violence and spousal abuse … And time.
Until a very special Babysitter came into my life, I
never really thought about it much. I just figured
that if a female really wanted to get out of a bad
relationship, all she had to do was just get up and
leave. And there’s something else I never quite
understood ... “If they don’t thrive on it so
much,” I thought, “why in the world do they
keep going back?” In casual conversation, I’ve
even heard others say ... “It’s a two-way
street. It’s not always the fellow’s fault and
sometimes, maybe these women deserve what they get.”
For a while I tolerated that line, but over the
years my perspective has changed a lot. I came to
realize that this is not just a female issue. Any
way you cut it, males are the cause of this
cruelty. So sit back, get comfortable ... And pay
attention! I’m going to tell you about this former
Babysitter of mine.
She
was not the normal Babysitter. No, she was far,
far, from that. She was young when I first met her
and compared to me she still is. I’d say she was
fifteen or so back then, when she began helping out
the neighbors some with them and their kids. In
addition to that, she took care of our boys when my
wife was having surgery and while I was working, she
took up the slack. What makes her so special is not
only how much she helped us, but also how well she
has dealt with the later trials in her life. She
came to our aid then, she’s helped many other people
since then, and she’s far from finished yet. It’s
really rather foggy to me, as to where she was and
from whence she came, but just when I needed her the
most ... That’s when the Babysitter came.
Now,
I’m going to tell you something ... This girl loved
kids! She watched over our boys as if they were her
own. She loved them, and just because she was that
way, she even took them with her on trips to see her
friends ... Hundreds of miles away. We could really
trust her with them. Yes, in many ways, she was
just like a little mother hen. She must’ve really
liked it, because lord knows we didn’t pay her
much. Time passed and my wife got a little better.
She could get up on her own now, so the Babysitter
moved on. Right before she left, I told her if she
ever needed anything or I could help her out in any
way, to please let me know. Shortly thereafter, the
Babysitter left.
A
few years passed and I still hadn’t heard from her.
I didn’t even know exactly where she was. I did
know that she was now married and had kids of her
own. She lived in the next county over, which was
not too far away. I was working the third shift and
I was busy. It was in the wee hours of the morning
when my Dispatcher called.
“H-551!” (that
was my Highway Patrol call number)
“A female subject who identified
herself as Heather just called. She said that it is
an emergency! She gave me her number and here it is
... She abruptly hung up, but she wants you to call
her right back.”
Well, here I was in the middle of nowhere. I was
busy and I didn’t have a cell phone. I guess it was
a good twenty minutes or so before I could call her
back.
When
I called, her husband answered and said she wasn’t
there. He sounded like he was high on something.
In the background, I could hear a commotion going
on, but not one peep did I hear from her. “But
something must be wrong,” I thought, and
“with all this time that has passed, she’s never
called me once!” ... “Damn, where is Heather and
what’s going on?” I kept him on the phone as
long as I could because in the background, I kept
hearing thumps and unusual noises. But since I
didn’t know exactly where he was and since there’s
no law against getting drunk at home ...Finally, as
confused as I still felt, I got off the phone. The
next day, I tried again to call her at the same
number. Again he answered and said she wasn’t
there, and he didn’t know where she was. I didn’t
want to meddle but still I wondered ... “What’s
going on with Heather?” I guess the best way to
continue with this story is to just lay out the
sequence of events and then let you know where I fit
in.
Her
husband was brought up and exposed to violence
towards, and suppression of, women. Although he was
older than she was, he had insecurities of his own
to deal with. He always had to know where she was
and what she was doing. I guess the best way to say
it, is that he was overly protective and jealous by
nature. He had known her since she was twelve years
old and by the time that they married, had come to
think of her as his possession.
She
was raised up right ... With strong male role models
who were secure in their manhood. She matured
early, had a mind of her own and before most of us
would even dream of doing it … She struck out on her
own.
She
didn’t think about it much when he showed concern
for her whereabouts, because she did like the
attention. Yes, the signs of abuse were already
showing, but she didn’t know what those signs were.
It
was about a month before they got married that the
abuse began. She was pregnant when he shoved her to
the ground and she wondered ... “Am I making a
mistake going into this relationship?” She
hoped it might just be drug related and things would
get better. And she also felt this was her best
option, so she went ahead and got married anyway.
They were married and before long his insecurities
surfaced more with his continuous drug use. Soon,
the accusations started and the beatings began.
After abusing her, he’d sober up some and apologize
… She’d give him another chance and they’d
reconcile.
She
began to walk on eggshells and tried to be more
tender with him, because as most any therapist will
tell you … It was partially her fault. But her
efforts to make it right didn’t help any ... The
beatings intensified. Slowly but surely, the abuse
became more frequent and violent. He learned pretty
quickly that if he gave her a black eye or busted
her lip, people would start asking questions. So,
he began beating her in areas that wouldn’t show.
He was learning how to do it. He was becoming a
professional wife-beater … He was running the show!
Then the big day came.
One
day, while their children were at his mother’s house
and the two of them were home alone … A major
beating occurred. He’d had just about all he could
stand of her mouth and he was strung out on drugs.
He was a lot larger than she was and he was
certainly not afraid of his little wife. If he
couldn’t get her attention with his fists, he
certainly would with his pistol and assault rifle.
He figured he was a real man and this time he would
make it plain to her. Yes, this was the proper
time. He would show her now … He was the boss!
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Even then he wasn’t satisfied! With a
broomstick, he beat her some more … And there was a
lot more damage done than we’ll ever see. He
wrapped a belt around her neck and began choking the
life out of her. But it must not have been her time
to die ... The belt broke. His accusations
continued and he demanded to know who her lover
was. After three hours of beatings, telling the
truth, that she wasn’t having an affair, wasn’t
working. Her sense of survival finally kicked in
and she tried the only other option she had ... She
began lying. She made up a story and gave him a
name … And it was only then that the dreadful
beatings came to an end. Although she had asked him
numerous times to go ahead and pull the trigger of
the assault rifle he threatened her with, he backed
off. He was content at last ... Because by now he
had beaten her almost to death.
Maybe he began to feel a little guilty now, because
he allowed her to call a friend to come and take her
to the Hospital. But the friend had only one hour
to get there, or he would kill her or whoever else
came down their driveway. There he sat. This was
the height of his manhood. He watched every move
she made and he knew how to use the firearms he
carried. He was in charge now! Never again would
he take any crap from his half-dead, one hundred
pound wife.
The
friend came in the nick of time and took her to the
Hospital, and even as they escaped down the driveway
… He stood there with his assault rifle aimed at
their backs. The Police Department came to the
Hospital and listened to her story. They then took
pictures of her now not-so-pretty face. Although
she gave them all the details and pressed charges
against him, the police never even went to his
door. He stayed right where he was … He didn’t go
anywhere. Warrants were drawn out for him, but
never served … And not one police officer ever
confronted him! Except for her statement and photo,
not one piece of evidence was ever collected … And
there’s more.
Only
after his Father finally talked him into taking a
ride, did he turn himself in. He was locked up
until the court date, but because of no real police
work ... The District Attorney didn’t have much of a
case. Although the charges were very serious ...
“Assault with a Deadly Weapon,” “First Degree
Kidnapping” and “Assault with a Deadly Weapon
Inflicting Serious Injury with Intent to Kill,”
and he was facing fifty-two years in prison ... The
DA offered him a plea bargain of three measly
years. But he was confident, not only did his
family have friends in high places, but he really
didn’t think he’d done much of anything wrong. He
declined the plea bargain and decided to gamble on a
trial. Big mistake for him and a lucky break for
her ... The Jury found him guilty of all charges and
sentenced him to 24 years in the NC Dept. of
Corrections. But we all know how that goes … He
ended up serving much less than half of that. And
still, we wonder why these women keep going back …
We’ve been so blind! It’s because that by allowing
slaps on the wrists, we condone it! It’s because we
let them right back out again and abusers don’t pay
for their crimes, and they have no reason to expect
to … That’s why!
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