CHAPTER 1

MY EARLIEST MEMORIES

I sit on the sofa in my living room, with a cup of coffee inreach, and my computer on my lap. My four Toy Chihuahua dogshave surrounded me, one on each side, and the other two layingacross my neck. I am now about to embark on the story of mylife's journey, and expose to the world, the deep dark hiddensecrets of my past. I pray God will bring back to my memory,the severe childhood abuse I struggled so hard, my whole life toforget.

I was born in Los Angeles, CA. My parents named me SandraGene, and gave me the nick name Sandy. Shortly after I was born,my parents moved our family to Lansing, MI, where we lived inan upstairs duplex apartment. My family consisted of my parents,one brother and two sisters. My siblings and I shared a bedroomand at bedtime, we would all sleep on the same bare mattress.We had few toys to play with and very few clothes to wear.

When Uncle Chester, my daddy's brother, would come to visit,he would find us kids, many times not wearing shoes, or coats,while playing outside in the winter snow. Yes, my family was verypoor, but my siblings and I were too young to know or care.

Both my parents were unstable, uneducated, and had noparenting or money management skills. Instead of buying foodfor the family, my mother would spend her food stamps ondrinking and partying. My daddy's pay checks never made ithome either, like my mother, his money was spent on drinkingand eating out. With all this said about my parents though, Ican still say I loved them both very much. I was far too young torealize they were not being good parents, so in my heart I hadthe best parents in the world.

Some of my earliest memories, at about the age of four, areof good times spent with my "Uncle Bob", my mother's brotherand his wife, "Aunt Marie." Uncle Bob and Aunt Marie had fivechildren of their own and frequently would take my siblings andme on extended visits to their home. Uncle Bob and Aunt Marieknew that mother and daddy were not taking care of us, andwere very concerned for our wellbeing. I recall a time while on avisit with them, Uncle Bob picked me up, and put me in his lapwhile he was eating. He began to feed me from his plate andwith a big smile on his face, he asked me if I was his little girl andI replied, "Yes, uh-huh". Of course at that moment I felt just likea princess!

I also remember a time, when my mother came home fromgrocery shopping, and called us kids into the kitchen for a bowlof ice cream. The minute I heard ice cream, I began to jump upand down with sheer joy, and ran as fast as I could to her side.Yes, I can truly say, the memories I have of living with my family,at the most tender and innocent years of my childhood are likehaving precious gold.

"I have etched them deep in my heart and soul never to beerased!"

I had a mother and daddy that I loved very much and abrother and two sisters to play with. In my four year old mind,I was happy and life was good! But little did I know my life andeverything in it was about to change forever.

I was told years later, while mother would be out partyingand drinking, that she would leave us kids home alone, or withwhomever she could get to babysit us. I remember waking upone night, and daddy sitting on the side of my bed. Startled atthe sound I heard, I sat straight up in the bed, and said "What'swrong daddy? Are you okay?" "I'm okay Sandy," he said to me,"Lie down and go back to sleep." So I laid my head back down onthe mattress, but again, I heard that same startling sound, andsaw daddy vomiting on the floor. This frightened me so much,that I began to cry. "Sandy, why are you crying?" daddy asks. AsI stretched out my arms in hopes that daddy would pick me up,I cried out to him, "I am scared, daddy!" He then turned around,lifted me up and ever so gently cradled me in his arms. He said,"Don't cry baby girl, daddy will be okay." Then he very softly beganto rock and sing to me. "Hush baby girl, your daddy's here".

Up to this day, I can still feel the gentleness of daddy's arms,holding me snug to his chest. Hear the soothing sound of his voicein my ears as he sang to me. At that very moment, daddy was myhero! For just a little while, time stood still for me to embrace mydaddy's love. Sadly though, that one precious moment in timewould be my last to see my daddy for years to come. I have keptand cherished the memory of that night my entire life.

Then suddenly! Daddy and I heard what sounded likethunder, but really was someone's feet stomping up the stairsof our duplex apartment. "Daddy, who is that," I said, and daddymumbled under his breath, "It's your mother. She's been downstairs at the neighbor's. There was a party down there and sheleft you kid's home alone again."

When mother reached the top of the stairs, she began yelling,"Where have you been Charles?" Evidently, daddy must have leftthe house to go drinking, before mother left to go to her shindigdown stairs. Daddy came home before mother did and he wasupset at mother for leaving us kids alone, so he too was angry.

By the time my mother made it to my bedroom, she was verymad at daddy and really lashed out at him. As she came into theroom she stepped on daddy's vomit and fell to the floor. Instantly,I went into a state of panic. I had never seen or heard my parentsargue before, at least that I could remember, so I was terrified ofwhat was going to happen next. At first she was livid and blameddaddy for her fall. Then she began laughing at herself and tolddaddy, "You better clean this mess up, Thomas!" Still clinging todaddy's arms, he laid me back down on the bed. The hall lightmy mother had turned on shined into my dark bedroom and asI drifted back off to sleep, I watched my daddy on his hands andknees, cleaning up his own vomit off the floor. This would be mylast memory of him as a little girl.

Sometime in the night, after I had fallen back to sleep, motherhad someone come to the apartment to babysit us kids while shetook daddy to the hospital. When I awakened the next morning,daddy was gone and mother never spoke to us kids about hisabsence. At four years old you have no concept of time, so daddybeing gone didn't affect me much at that time.

A couple of years later I was told that after daddy wasdischarged from the hospital, he and mother tried to work theirproblems out in hopes of keeping our family together, but sadlytheir efforts failed. Daddy then returned to the hospital and hewould stay there for an extended period of time.

CHAPTER 2

INNOCENTS LOST

After daddy had been readmitted into the hospital, mymother's boyfriend, Fred, who lived in the downstairs apartment,moved in with us. At times when mother would leave theapartment, she would have Fred babysit us kids.

I remember a time when mother had planned to gosomewhere, and she asked Fred to babysit. While Fred waspreoccupied watching TV, my siblings and I decided to go downstairs to the front porch of the apartment. We were all sitting onthe porch, when suddenly we heard a loud thumping sound inthe stairwell. Marcia, our eighteen month old baby sister, had justfallen down the stairs. When she reached the bottom step, herlegs were bleeding and she was screaming and crying. I was sureFred would have heard her cries and would come to get her, buthe didn't.

I knew Marcia would be too heavy for me to carry. I was verysmall for my age and due to being neglected, I was malnourishedand frail, but I knew I had to help her. I went behind Marcia andplaced my arms around her body and under her arms. I then,with all my strength, picked the top portion of her body up anddragged her to the porch steps. I sat down and pulled her bodyacross my lap. I then looked around on the porch for anything Icould use to clean her legs, but there was nothing there.

"Janet, will you go upstairs and get a rag?," I asked my oldersister. Janet agreed to go, and a few minutes later, came backwith a towel. I then began cleaning Marcia's legs, while trying tocomfort her and letting her know that she would be okay. Fredmust have noticed Janet getting a towel and by that time heardMarcia crying, and he came looking for us. Like a raging bull, hestormed down the stairs and sounding like a mama bear readyto attack to protect her cubs, he shouted, "I'm going to beat allof you."

Fred had not been in my life long enough at that point for meto have established any kind of relationship with him, but I neverforgot what kind of man he was after that day, and I always madesure I kept a safe distance from him.

He reached the porch, jerked Marcia out of my arms andyelled at me, "What did you do to her?" I began to cry and said,"I didn't do anything to her. Marcia fell, following us down thestairs, and I was trying to help her. He yells again, "Get up thosestairs, all of you, get to the kitchen, and when you get there, pullyour pants down, get in one line and stand there until I call yourname, for your turn, to get beat by the end of my belt. I startedcrying even harder and ask him, "Why are we getting a beating?"Fred yells at me, "Because you were on this porch and it's yourfault Marcia fell."

In total fear and desperation, all I could think about at thatmoment was to somehow change his mind. I tried pleading andbegging, as I cried my heart out to him, "Please don't beat me,please don't beat me! I'm sorry, I won't do it again! We weren'tgoing to leave the porch. I didn't know Marcia would follow us.All I did was pick her up after she fell and wipe the blood off herlegs."

Sad to say, all my pleading, crying and begging did notchange Fred's sadistic mind set. Fred made sure I was the first ofmy siblings to feel the horrific pain of his steel belt buckle on mybare bottom and the back of my legs. The severe pain from thatbeating lingered on for hours and so did my sobbing! Motherand daddy had never whipped me that I could remember, butthis beating would be one that I would never forget, and it wouldbe just the beginning of many more to come.

Anything would put Fred on the war path, and when it did,we were always ordered like little soldiers to go to the kitchen,pull our pants down, stand in one line, shoulders straight, andmouth shut, or the beating would be worse. We were so young,so vulnerable and innocent! We couldn't have known that Fredhad plans for Janet and me far beyond our imagination. Thebeatings would be just a prelude of what was to come!

Mother had company one night, and when they arrived shesent us kids to bed. Like all young children do, we played for awhile, and then went to sleep. Sometime in the middle of thenight, I was awakened by someone's hand on me. I turned overin the bed to see who was touching me. To my surprise, Fred wasstanding next to my bed. "What are you doing?," I asked him."You're too old to be sleeping with us." Fred just smiled and saidto me, "It's ok, Sandy. Your mommy said I could."

I don't like you touching me. I cried and threatened him, "I'mtelling my mommy." "Yes, and if you do, I will beat you with mybelt," he harshly snapped at me. At four years old, I knew Fredbeing in my room was wrong, and I didn't understand why hewas touching me.

The child spirit inside me, so pure and innocent, vanished. Fredstole my innocence like a thief in the night.

My tiny, frail, body seemed to go limp, out of complete terror!I felt my mind leave my body and it seemed like I was floatingabove the bed. When I looked down, I saw someone else, "Iwas okay," because it wasn't me! That night forever enlightenedme on how cruel Fred could be, and how life wasn't the fairytale I thought it was. After that night Fred haunted me in mynightmares for many years to come.

My mind then reflected back on the horrific pain I felt fromFred's belt buckle, and I kept this horrible secret to myself. Thevisits from Fred, in the middle of the night, continued until weleft our family home. Out of fear of him, none of us kids ever toldmy mother about what Fred was doing

CHAPTER 3

STATE CUSTODY

The length of time that passed by, from receiving Fred's dailybeatings and middle of the night visits to our bedroom, is like themorning fog to my memory. You know something is in the fog, butno matter how hard you try, you just can't see through it.

I can only assume that mother was gone from home a lot,or at that point in her life, she simply didn't care. Then to mysurprise, the day of salvation came, or at least I thought it was.But instead, it would be just a continuation of the same abuse,only worse!

The neighbor who lived across the street from our home,contacted DCS. She stated to them that she had watched mymother get into a cab with her suitcase in hand, and then thecab drove away. The neighbor also stated that she had seenmy brother John in the alley many times, digging through thegarbage for food. The neighbor explained to the police that shewas concerned that we had been abandoned.

When DCS and the police came to our home to pick us kidsup, I was lying on the mattress, burning up with fever. I could hearthe pounding on the front door, but I was too sick to move offthe mattress, and I knew one of my other siblings would answerthe door. When they came into the apartment all of us kids weredirty, hungry and wearing nothing more than underwear and teeshirts. I was too young to know who these people were or whythey were in our home, but I do remember the kindness andwarmth they showed us kids. They washed our little bodies, andreplaced the smelly, dirty clothes we were wearing, with cleanones, before taking us away.

I really can't recall if my mother was there that day, but asthey started out the front door to take us to their cars, frantically,I quickly spoke up and told these people, "My mommy says wecan't go with strangers." The officer picked me up in his arms,and while carrying me to his car, told me that my mommy saidit was okay.

In my mind, these nice people were going to take us kids for aride in the car and then take us right back home.

There were several unmarked police and DCS cars parked infront of our home. I was placed in the first car and John, Janetand Marcia were put in the car directly behind me. I rememberthinking how special I was, because I had been given my owncar, and my siblings had to share a car. I turned around in my carseat and looked out the back window. I smiled and waved at mysiblings with pure delight as we all drove away.

I had no clue that it would be the last time for me to see mybaby sister Marcia, and it would be 26 years before I would see mybrother John again.

CHAPTER 4

EMOTIONAL AND MENTAL ABUSE

I was at a very fragile and delicate age when I was taken frommy family. To make things worse, because I was sick, I was takenstraight to a hospital to be checked out. There was no explanationgiven to me as to why I was being taken to a hospital, or why mysiblings weren't brought along with me. Simply put, I was justtaken!

Because I was not taken back home after the car ride, Ithought these people that I had never seen before, completeand total strangers to me, had just stolen me from my mother.Not knowing when, or if ever, I would see my mother and siblingsagain, was mentally and very emotionally traumatizing to me.

When we arrived at the hospital, I was carried in, taken toan exam room and made to sit down on a cold table. A nursecame into the room, and started to examine me. I asked, "Whyare you looking at me like this? Where is my mommy? Is mymommy coming?" The nurse smiled and said, "Because youare sick, Sandy, we need to examine you to make sure you'reokay, and yes, your mommy will be here later." About that timetwo more nurses came into the room, and while standing at thedoorway, they were discussing my case along with what healthissues I had at the time. Of course, I didn't understand much ofwhat they were saying, but when one of the nurses spoke up andsaid, "Here's one that's not going to live very long." I was stunned!Surprisingly, I understood that statement, and when it sank inmy mind what she had just said, it hit me like a ton of bricks.I became extremely upset and began to cry. Somehow, at thatmoment, I knew she was talking about my physical life.

For years it was beyond my comprehension how I could haveknown, at such a young age, what life or death meant. But afterfinding in the Bible the scripture below, I then understood andhave come to realize that "GOD, Our Heavenly Father," has createdmankind with the desire to live forever!

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also seteternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what Godhas done from beginning to end

ECC 3:11 (NIV)

"What's wrong, why are you crying Sandy?" The nurse takingcare of me asked. With tears falling down my cheeks, and thoughtsracing through my mind that I would never grow up, I managedto get out of my mouth, "Because I don't want to die." She thenasked me, "What do you mean, Sandy, do you know what theword die means?" "It means I won't be alive anymore. I will bedead and I don't want to die," I said to her as I sat there sobbing."Who told you that you were going to die," she asked? I glancedover toward the door where the two nurses were standing andpointed to the nurse that had made the comment. "Did she tellyou that you were going to die?," the nurse asked. I said, "No, butI heard her tell the lady standing next to her that I wouldn't livevery long."

(Continues...)