A Flawed Legacy - 36

Well, I am almost done with "flawed legacies".  I am about to leave one behind, that is for certain, and the purpose of this blog is to offer my children now, a look "into" the person they have known so little about and a life they hardly have had a chance to know at all.

One day, I was there, the next day I was gone, and they were left - almost, on their own.  If there was any way I could change any of that, I would do it in a heartbeat.  I hate the feeling they must have and I am to blame.  However, I was left without a father, literally, from the day I was born and only by the grace of God was I raised in a responsible home with grand parents who loved me as their own.  But, my point will be, I have personally known dozens - if not, hundreds, of fatherless children who have made a better life for themselves.  Something that seemed difficult for me to do and so, what follows will take a closer look at my life through my eyes as they were and are today.

"Nan", our grand mother, took me home to Yale, MI, from Ohio, when I was a little over three years old and used to delight telling others, I stood the whole way, gazing out of the windows.  I guess I wanted to see what I could see.  I don't know of the first time I fell and scratched my knees, but I would bet I ran to "Nan" who would hug me and tell me, ..."everything's going to be OK."

And it wasn't until I saw the neighborhood kids getting new bikes and going to new places that I did not and learning to do whatever I was asked to do, that I began to realize, I was somehow, different.  My mother would come up to the farm and ask how I was doing and sometimes, pull me close so that I got a smell of her perfume, but I soon learned that I was living on a "performance based" schedule as far as she was concerned.  I began to pray that she would marry one of the guys who would tag along on her visits, but that never happened.  I did well in school, very well indeed, but when it came time for others to talk about going to college, I was told there was no money.

Along came World War II and the possibilities of a college education and I jumped at the opportunity, even though I had not completed high school.  I would get my diploma because I passed a GED test and that was all that was required.  During the first week in the service - I think I have mentioned that in an earlier blog, I was left behind and that thought fit perfectly with my experience on the farm.  So, I was gone. No one seemed to care.  Fortunately, the military had to care and so I went where I was scheduled to go, according to their schedule.   It would stay that way for the following seven years.  I did not have to think about where I was going, what I would be doing, who was directing me and all of that - and more, and it all began to sink in.  It was not MY fault if something went wrong, it was THEIR fault.

I would wind up in the Korean War and when I came home, no one seemed to notice, no one asked about where I had been, what I had done, even though if they had asked, I was prepared to go on for hours on just a few of my many experience.  I was in Hawaii four different times, for God's sake. Everyone else would drool a the thought of just going there.  But for me, there were no questions, apparently, no one cared.

I got out of the Air Force to go to school, to get a college degree, go back in and retire when I was forty years old.  That was my plan, but I screwed up.  I wound up living in my mother's apartment and I hated it.  A gal said she loved me and so I got out of that apartment and was married, to a gal who worked for the airlines.  We could fly everywhere she said.  I bought into that as well.  But I was popular in college and soon there were social commitments as I became the President of the student body.  I went alone as she did not want to go.  There were pretty girls everywhere, some even daring to ask about the absence of my wife.  I graduated and took a job I would hate because it offered more money than the jobs I thought I might like.  I quit the one I hated and took one I thought would be great and I failed miserably.  Whose fault?   Hers, of course.  So, I left town, got drunk often, found jobs that I enjoyed and succeeded until it was discovered I drank too much.

One morning, I woke up after a night of drinking, felt bad and so, I went to church.  Guess what.  I found people who loved me and one in particular loved me so much, we went to bed together and she became pregnant, so we hurried on with the wedding plans.  Our first child was born and she was beautiful beyond words.  I was so proud of both her and her mother.  It was - to that point, the greatest moment in my life.  I had a great job, really great prospects and it blew up in our faces.   Not my fault, that time! We moved on with thanks to my sister and with a little effort and a boost from a business associate, we were on our way again.  Another pregnancy, but this one almost aborted as a result of an argument.  She survived, however, and then there was a son.  All the while, my job was working for me - for a change, until something happened that I still do not understand.   However, a friend was standing by with an even better job, this one with a car and the harder I worked, the more success we had.  There was another pregnancy and another son.  Again, life was good.  We even found an apartment where part of our rent was paid by our merely collecting the rents for the other tenants.  Then, there was the case of the missing money and my wife confessed to me, it was her fault. 

What I failed to mention a few lines ago, there was money missing from a neighbor's mail box and it was taken by my wife.  She wound up with a Federal charge and a sentence of ten years in prison, but freed on probation.  Now, with another case of missing money, she was headed for prison, for sure.  I loved her, I did not want her in prison, so I accepted the charge and was tried for grand larceny. Before the trial began, an Assistant AG and I had examined the books of the owners and found a number of discrepancies and referred to them as I was on the witness stand.  The Judge listened and declared that I was innocent.  Of course, that caused some questions in the minds of my employer and they fired me, only I found a new job, a better job with more potential.  Unfortunately, they did not return the payroll deductions taken from employees and the IRS closed that business.

At this point, I no longer believed anyone.  I hated myself for being so stupid on a umber of counts and I suspect that wore on my wife.  She took the children and moved out.  When I lost the job I had, we talked and agreed to get back together, to work hings out and even moved to San Diego to get a new start  life, each vowing there would be no more problems.  That didn't last long.  She was arrested again and when I realized our problems were not all of her fault, I sought help.  It meant leaving our children in "Foster" homes while she was being examined prior to her sentencing and before I knew it, she was back out of prison, had taken the children out of the places they were staying.  As far as I know, they are still with her.

I no longer cared.  I cared for our children but as long as she could get in and out of prison and prison sentences, there was nothing further I could do.  I did my best to provide what the State required me to pay for their support and that was all that I could do.

I know, I was for awhile, re-united with my youngest daughter but I made a mistake she did not care to discuss with me and that ended that.  If you want to know the rest of my story - watch this space in the future

A Flawed Legacy - 19

San Diego on any day of the year is a good day.  We were fortunate to have found a nice duplex apartment that was close to the elementary school we needed for our children and across the street from a shopping center. It was a great new start and it should have worked well for us.  Unfortunately, it did not.

My problem was that I had not yet learned how to deal with rejection and working for a company that promised to "Write your Congressman" on behalf of the companies I was able to convince that they needed to participate, meant that I was being rejected on 60 to 70 per cent of my "unannounced" calls. More often that not, the owner was not available.  I should have anticipated this, but I did not.

Instead, I turned to what I had begun to believe was my old "dependable" as far as jobs were concerned.  I dropped by an employment agency looking for a "better" job and would up with another promise of the future and more drudgery.  I had some breaks.  The young Indian emigrant with more clerical skills than I had ever seen was easy to place in an "employer paid fee" job.  That impressed her father who came to the office with the resumes of the other children I had yet to meet and told me not to worry about fees; he would pay the fees for any of the others I placed.  That became my goal, but I did not share my thoughts with the agency manager and soon she became critical of my efforts.

Then came the bomb shell.  The mail box of the people in the adjoining unit had been pilfered and it did not take long for the authorities to visit Janice.  From what I would soon hear from the investigators who talked with me, she was blaming me for my financial failures.  To be honest, I almost lost it.  I came close to beating on her after she hid in our bedroom behind a locked door.  I kicked it in and was ready to beat on her, when I realized my promise to her and to myself.  One more incident like we had experienced earlier and I was through with the marriage.  The next morning I was talking with a lawyer about the possibilities of a divorce.  I would learn that we could not afford one.

So, I let the inevitable happen.  She was arrested, went to court - alone, and eventually, she was found guilty.  I never visited her in jail and was not interested in visiting her in the prison she was sent to for an evaluation.  Instead, I went to the appropriate offices in the State to see what assistance I could get to stabilize our family situation.  It would take time, I was told.

I called an old friend we had known in a Los Angeles church we had attended, shared my sad story and asked him if he could arrange to find me help for my problems.  By this time, I had to admit there had to be something wrong with me to have worked so very hard with no significant results and now, to find our family in disarray and my wife facing ten years in prison.  He came to San Diego, picked me up and we met with two others who were supposed to understand family crises.  We talked for over three hours and I realized, I was trying to convince them of my realities and they were fixated on what they had read about Christian family dynamics.  We were getting nowhere, but something my friend had said began to resonate with me.  My problem were more spiritual than any of us cared to admit.

With that I called a man I had known briefly, but who had made a lot of sense to me, so I called his office in Tulsa, OK.  Unable to reach him directly, his secretary suggested I come to Tulsa so that it would be easier to have him understand my predicament.  I thought that was a good idea.  I could not think of anyone in California who would be interested in listening to me.

I went back to the people I had talked with at the State offices and asked about the possibilities of placing the children in temporary (90 days) "Foster care" homes.  I assumed that before the 90 days had elapsed, Janice would be out of her temporary hold in prison, I would have learned more about my own sense of reality and we could establish a plan to our children.  To this day, I thought it was a good idea, it had been endorsed by the child welfare people.  Things would work out for the best of everyone. 

February 10, 2014

Leaving Georgia and everything that it had meant to me, I headed West, to St. Louis where I was to realize there was nothing there for me, old friends, no longer even acquaintances.  Onward, California seemed to be a good idea, at least an opportunity to be with my Sister and perhaps, discover all that we had missed as children growing up in difficult times.  It was the beginning for us...

Hardly a beginning for me as I discovered how I would enjoy living on the dark side of life, drinking too much, avoiding drugs, but not many of the other temptations.

Then, I met a man, not personally, but his book, "Think and Grow Rich" by Napolean Hill.  I devoured it, line by line, page by page and vowed, my life could change, my life would change.

The first step was getting rid of my pride, the cupboard filled with booze.  The next step, a serious attempt to discover what church should mean to me.  After all, I had been "in" church for all of my life, never as a refuge, but as a place where I could discover encouragement to "be" good, great ideas, but something I could never reconcile to being a part of my daily life.

Now I took it seriously, made good friends, and even better, I thought at the time, a girl who agreed that we ought to be married.  That was a good idea, she was pregnant and in due course, the most beautiful moment in my life, our first daughter was born.  I have never been so proud in all of my life.

If only my career measured up.  The first thing we knew, it had collapsed.  Because of necessity, we moved in with my sister and new opportunities developed in due course.  Another daughter was on the way, but now there was a problem.  At seven month, her mother's "water" broke and she would be born prematurely.   I would learn the value of brokeness - if there ever was such a word.  It would be weeks before she was home from the hospital and even more visits as she was subject to bouts of pneumonia because of the fact her lungs were not developed as they should have been.

My employment opportunities seemed to be growing as I was now working for a former boss, a man I thought to be my friend.   Another child came along, this time a boy.

We were doing well when another tragedy struck.  For reasons still unknown to me, my wife stole mail from our neighbor's mail boxes and used the credit cards she would discover.  She faced ten years in prison and all I could do was stand by her side, praying for mercy.  It came about when the Judge gave her a better option than prison, an opportunity to come home and live a normal life.

In a sense, it ended my tenure with my employer in the form of a more excellent promise of earnings and a car, to boot.  I accepted the offer and we moved from where we were living.  The job prospects grew and then, another tragedy.  We had moved into an apartment complex and were offered the task of collecting rents with an agreement to lower our rent.  It appeared to be a real opportunity, until...

Until there was rent money missing.  The management blamed us, of course, I blamed my wife as I knew I was not involved and eventually, the both of us were arrested.  And I almost forgot, along the way, a second son was born.

Knowing that my wife would surely go to prison as the Judge had promised earlier, so I made the dumbest move I could possibly make.  I plead guilty and was ordered to trial.  Fortunately, the DA's office assigned one of their people to investigate and he asked me to be present as he monitored the accounts of our landlord.  There was no evidence that the "lost" money could be traced to us, so I was encouraged to go to trial without a jury, to let the Judge determine guilt or innocence, based on my testimony and that of the building management.  He ruled that I was NOT guilty.

Life moved on except for the fact my employer did not seem to agree with the ruling of the courts.  I had been responsible for thousands of dollars we were paying to transient employees and although there was no evidence of shortages in my accounts, I was fired.

I was offered another job, in the same business, and an opportunity to prove my skills as a manager and sales executive.  I did extremely well as did our company until it was discovered, our management chose to ignore their responsibility to forward the taxes collected from our hundreds of transient employees.  It didn't take long for the IRS to enforce their obligations and the business closed.

I was never as dismayed as I was when reviewing the recent past.  Fortunately, I did not go back to drinking and I did discover another job with a nice guy who had purchased a franchise in the business with which I was most familiar.  We were doing quite well when my life decided to take the kids and move away.  I can't say that I blamed her as I was probably a disappointment to her, but the move was more than I could handle at the time.

There is an old adage that "time heals all wounds" (or conversely, wounds all heels) and nothing might be more applicable to our life as the following months would reveal.

I probably lost credibility with my boss and I could not blame him, so in due course we would part ways.  With such an act pending, I contacted my wife to see if there was any chance at reconciliation.

There was and I moved to the community where she was living, where my sister was living also, and it wasn't long before I had a new employer; three in fact, as we had enormous bills to pay.  It went well for us except for the fact, it seemed like, every other day I was discovering bills that she had incurred that I had no knowledge of.   I had an offer to work for a company operating in San Diego and we agreed, if we moved there - an ideal community for employment and for the children, it would be the end of stealing and the end of bank accounts opened with the minimum and spending to the maximum.

We agreed.

But it didn't take long for promises to disappear.  There would be another invasion of our neighbor's mail boxes and I decided there was no longer any hope for us.  I had assured her I would do nothing to help if such an occasion arose.  I watched as they took her to jail and said nothing.  I did not attend her trial nor did I offer to bring the children to see her when she went to prison for a period of observation.

What to do for our children was my greatest concern.   They loved their Mother and I was more than just aware of things she had told them about me - lies for the most part, but life had taken its toil on all of us.  I sought counsel with church elders and was devastated when they had no suggestions.  There is no way I can explain my feelings at that point.  I even thought of suicide; even bought a gun, but would wind up throwing it away.   I called a religious group's phone number to share my grief and would up hearing that it would be good if I sat down with their leader to discuss - possibilities.

Great!  He was in Tulsa, OK and I was in San Diego, CA.  Sounded impossible.  But then, I had a visit from the area "Family Relations" people that had obviously been sent because of what my wife was telling them about me.  We worked through our differences and I brought up the possibility of placing the children on "foster" care for ninety days while I sorted out my options.  They agreed and within a couple of weeks, I was on a bus headed for Tulsa.