ASHO Renovation 1996
- Thread starter StoveBolts
- Start date
StoveBolts
Patron
Thanks everyone for your encouragement and your responses.
Lets see if I can pick this back up. Admit ably, I've got some reservations moving forward, so we'll see what comes of it.
I was shipped off to Reynolds Creek boys home located in Cusick Washington when my juvenile sentence for my first crimes had been completed. At the time of my transfer, I believe I had done just about a year in my single dwelling unit where I knew every crack in the wall and every hole in the vent. I recall when Doug, who was a counselor at the boys home came to pick me up in his little Subaru wagon and just outside of town he stopped at a 7-11 for a soda and asked me if I wanted to come in, or stay outside. Wow... from lockup where every move was regulated to freedom, I about went crazy with the thought of actually being able to make the huge decision. Should I go in, or should I stay in the car, and this guy actually trusts me not to run, or is he tempting me? It was a beautiful day as the wind blew through the pines and the sun warmed my face. “No thank you, I think I'll stay in the car.”
I had always loved the mountains and the woods as grandma had taken us to “Jump off Joe's” and Sacheen lake several times as a kid and as we drove up the winding dirt road off the small two lane highway that ran parallel to the Pondera river at Ruby, I felt a childish blissfulness about my surroundings and I knew everything was going to be ok. Actually, one of my earliest memories was meeting my first “Ranch Hand” on the way up Reynolds Creek road to the ranch and I recall his hands were strong and calloused and I admired that.
I don't want to spend too much time on the Ranch, but over all it was very good and soon after my arrival, my hands bore the same callouses as the other boys as I worked hard digging holes for fence posts, bucking bales of hay for .03 a bale, tending the cattle and for sport, riding bare back around the perimeter of the ranch on my two year old Appaloosa who had just been gilded, but hadn't quite figured it out. He was appropriately named “Lucky”. Yup, Lucky was stubborn and he'd often wander off the trail with me pulling on his reigns to no avail. Seems like he'd spot a tree just the right size and try and rub me off on it. One time I had him galloping where I shouldn't have and tried to get him to turn, but he wouldn't. I remember pulling on his reigns so hard his head was pulled back and he was looking right at me as we headed right toward the cinder block bunkhouse. I figured hey, if he's stupid enough to hit it, why not? I let go of the reigns just in time for Lucky to turn his head moments before he meet Mr. Cinder block face to face. Lucky didn't have much of a problem turning after that.
As a note for my future book, I met Tony Snow at the group home. He was 6'-2” and looked like he was part of the cast from Roots. He was a loner, and I won his trust and we became good friends. Hey, it's nice to have the toughest kid at the home on your side as you certainly don't want him against you. Aside from that, with my training, I was second toughest at the ranch.
There was a kid who didn't have any family named Dave and Dave and I used to fight all the time as we were allowed to fight as long as we had permission from the counselors and we followed the rules set before the fight. I can't tell you how many times I kicked this kids behind and he kept coming back for more. This started getting out of hand and I started kicking his rear end without going through the counselors and the next thing I know, I'm getting in trouble for fighting. Each time we fought, I would loose more privileges (and they liked to dock your allowance) until I finally started loosing my home privileges that I had recently earned. Staff decided that enough was enough with our fighting and outlawed us fighting period. Shortly after loosing my weekend with my family it dawned on me why Dave liked to fight, even when he'd get his butt kicked. It's because he had nothing to loose in the first place and I vowed not to fight him again. I recall him baiting me in the bunk house and he followed me into my room pushing and shoving me as I boldly stated that I wasn't going to fight. I then sat on my cabinet with my hands under my legs refusing to fight as he became bolder and bolder and began to hit me. It was hard not to jump down and kick the snot out of this kid, but I was not going to go against my word. I wasn't going to fight. It was humiliating to sit there and take punch after punch as the other kids egged me to fight and when they realized I wouldn't, they started calling me names. I just sat there waiting, knowing that it would end. What I didn't realize, was I would loose my status and soon, the other kids were name calling and disrespecting me. Some I could threaten and they stopped, but the others I just had to keep my cool and work through it. It was at that time I made a very dangerous vow never to back down from a fight again, regardless of the consequences. This attitude would later serve to justify fighting in school when I got out of the ranch and when the teacher broke it up, I decided to punch him too. The attitude further justified hitting a skank in Hollywood for stealing my drugs when I was dealing and later for hitting my first wife after she slapped me during an argument.
When I got out I moved in with my Dad but that was very short lived. My brother introduced me to a man named Kerry Nicole who was a scam artist and soon, in trade for sexual favors he was letting me drive his 70 Nova for hours and well, you get the idea. Kerry knew this rich guy named Dave Hoffman who had this huge diamond that Kerry wanted to get a hold of. The scam went like this. Dave liked young men and all I had to do is knock on Dave's door, ask him if he wanted any handy work done around his house and Dave would immediately hire me. Dave had his own scam too. Dave would have you do some work in a bedroom alone and for one reason or another, the door would be locked. Dave would have to go out somewhere for about an hour and you were left in the room alone in this really nice bedroom that just happen to have a tv with porm. As a young man, it was typical for you to get aroused and the rest was history as Dave peeped through a hole in the wall that was disguised amongst the pictures etc that hung on the wall directly above the bed. It's amazing how much work I done in that room in the weeks ahead, but the goal was to find the diamond and anything else worth value as I build Dave's trust.
Long story short, Dave and I became friends and he asked me to move in with him. I had no need for Kerry any longer and I thought I had found somebody who actually liked me, and could support me. Dave continued to shower me with gifts and treat me well. I recall laying next to him one night thinking, “God I love this man” as it all came crashing down months later as he began to cheat on me and my illusion was shattered. Dave liked guns. One of his favorites was his 357 magnum with it's hair pin trigger and it's hollow tipped rounds. I had hit bottom, I was empty, confused and felt so emotionally torn. As I cried in pain and anguish, I took the 357 to a nearby field and placed it to my temple. As tears sobbed from my eyes, I felt the smoothness of the trigger and my world became black and quiet as it had when I was younger laying in my bed talking to God. I heard a calm, soothing voice say, “You have to see how this all turns out... remember.” Then I came out of it, looked at the gun and applied the safty.
My step brother Mike who had slept with my high school girlfriend was living at my Dad's house with his newborn child and his girlfriend when I moved back in. Mike was doing weekends in Juvenile and late one night, his girlfriend crawled into my bed naked. Don't mistake me, she was very attractive and I had often been jealous of Mike and thought that he didn't deserve such a good looking, nice girl. My conscience told me that it was wrong to be in bed with her naked, but she felt so soft and warm as she told me how she wanted me and how Mike was a jerk etc. In protest I kept saying, “It's not right, you have my brothers son.” to which she replied, “Doesn't this feel good? If it feels good, how can it be wrong?”. Several weeks later Mike came in on us and out of respect, I packed my belongings headed to the truck stop. (It was winter and it was snowing).
I figured I'd go to California since I was there once before that fall (another sub story) and what the heck, at least it was warm in LA. Besides, I loved the ocean. There was something so spectacular about the ocean with all it's beauty and power. That's when I met Gordon (Gordy) and he was just happening to be headed to LA after he picked up his load the next day. He offered his truck to me and I agreed. Inside, I knew that he was gay (you can always tell) and I was resistant at first, but I didn't see any other option so off to his truck we went where the inevitable occurred.
Once in LA, I pulled a few tricks on Santa Monica blvd when I ran into a drug dealer who took an interest in me. I never did give him what he wanted (sex), but he did turn me onto his supplier and we quickly became partners dealing pot. Shortly after, Gordy became my Taxi between L.A. And Spokane and it went something like this. I'd go to LA, get my drugs and Gordy would transport me and the pot back to Spokane. I'd sell it quickly and then head back to sunny LA. Ohh, I could tell many, many stories about running the streets of LA, all the crime, all the close calls and yes, even the death I saw. I thank God for watching over me during that time.
On one trip back to LA, Gordy asked me what I was going to do with my life and I told him I didn't know. He then asked me what I thought about driving truck to which I replied, “That would be fun!” The next morning we woke up in Cottonwood Ca, ate breakfast and when we returned to the truck, Gordy sat in the passenger seat. I was scared to death, but Gordy assured me I'd be fine. Soon after, Gordy got a job running all 48 states and I was his partner. When I turned 18, Gordy took me to the DMV and I passed the requirements and received the endorsements to drive Semi (although you had to be 21 to drive interstate). Shortly after, I was grandfathered into my CDL.
When I was 20, I couldn't do the sex thing with Gordy any longer and it was eating me up inside. Gordy understood this and today, I still have a lot of respect for Gordy for his ability to always put my feeling first and to always back me in my decisions. It was at this time I decided to get off the road and go get my GED. Shortly after getting my GED, I was working as a Lube Technician (I changed oil) at a Nissan dealership and I had my own place. That's when I met Denise who later became my wife.
Lets see if I can pick this back up. Admit ably, I've got some reservations moving forward, so we'll see what comes of it.
I was shipped off to Reynolds Creek boys home located in Cusick Washington when my juvenile sentence for my first crimes had been completed. At the time of my transfer, I believe I had done just about a year in my single dwelling unit where I knew every crack in the wall and every hole in the vent. I recall when Doug, who was a counselor at the boys home came to pick me up in his little Subaru wagon and just outside of town he stopped at a 7-11 for a soda and asked me if I wanted to come in, or stay outside. Wow... from lockup where every move was regulated to freedom, I about went crazy with the thought of actually being able to make the huge decision. Should I go in, or should I stay in the car, and this guy actually trusts me not to run, or is he tempting me? It was a beautiful day as the wind blew through the pines and the sun warmed my face. “No thank you, I think I'll stay in the car.”
I had always loved the mountains and the woods as grandma had taken us to “Jump off Joe's” and Sacheen lake several times as a kid and as we drove up the winding dirt road off the small two lane highway that ran parallel to the Pondera river at Ruby, I felt a childish blissfulness about my surroundings and I knew everything was going to be ok. Actually, one of my earliest memories was meeting my first “Ranch Hand” on the way up Reynolds Creek road to the ranch and I recall his hands were strong and calloused and I admired that.
I don't want to spend too much time on the Ranch, but over all it was very good and soon after my arrival, my hands bore the same callouses as the other boys as I worked hard digging holes for fence posts, bucking bales of hay for .03 a bale, tending the cattle and for sport, riding bare back around the perimeter of the ranch on my two year old Appaloosa who had just been gilded, but hadn't quite figured it out. He was appropriately named “Lucky”. Yup, Lucky was stubborn and he'd often wander off the trail with me pulling on his reigns to no avail. Seems like he'd spot a tree just the right size and try and rub me off on it. One time I had him galloping where I shouldn't have and tried to get him to turn, but he wouldn't. I remember pulling on his reigns so hard his head was pulled back and he was looking right at me as we headed right toward the cinder block bunkhouse. I figured hey, if he's stupid enough to hit it, why not? I let go of the reigns just in time for Lucky to turn his head moments before he meet Mr. Cinder block face to face. Lucky didn't have much of a problem turning after that.
As a note for my future book, I met Tony Snow at the group home. He was 6'-2” and looked like he was part of the cast from Roots. He was a loner, and I won his trust and we became good friends. Hey, it's nice to have the toughest kid at the home on your side as you certainly don't want him against you. Aside from that, with my training, I was second toughest at the ranch.
There was a kid who didn't have any family named Dave and Dave and I used to fight all the time as we were allowed to fight as long as we had permission from the counselors and we followed the rules set before the fight. I can't tell you how many times I kicked this kids behind and he kept coming back for more. This started getting out of hand and I started kicking his rear end without going through the counselors and the next thing I know, I'm getting in trouble for fighting. Each time we fought, I would loose more privileges (and they liked to dock your allowance) until I finally started loosing my home privileges that I had recently earned. Staff decided that enough was enough with our fighting and outlawed us fighting period. Shortly after loosing my weekend with my family it dawned on me why Dave liked to fight, even when he'd get his butt kicked. It's because he had nothing to loose in the first place and I vowed not to fight him again. I recall him baiting me in the bunk house and he followed me into my room pushing and shoving me as I boldly stated that I wasn't going to fight. I then sat on my cabinet with my hands under my legs refusing to fight as he became bolder and bolder and began to hit me. It was hard not to jump down and kick the snot out of this kid, but I was not going to go against my word. I wasn't going to fight. It was humiliating to sit there and take punch after punch as the other kids egged me to fight and when they realized I wouldn't, they started calling me names. I just sat there waiting, knowing that it would end. What I didn't realize, was I would loose my status and soon, the other kids were name calling and disrespecting me. Some I could threaten and they stopped, but the others I just had to keep my cool and work through it. It was at that time I made a very dangerous vow never to back down from a fight again, regardless of the consequences. This attitude would later serve to justify fighting in school when I got out of the ranch and when the teacher broke it up, I decided to punch him too. The attitude further justified hitting a skank in Hollywood for stealing my drugs when I was dealing and later for hitting my first wife after she slapped me during an argument.
When I got out I moved in with my Dad but that was very short lived. My brother introduced me to a man named Kerry Nicole who was a scam artist and soon, in trade for sexual favors he was letting me drive his 70 Nova for hours and well, you get the idea. Kerry knew this rich guy named Dave Hoffman who had this huge diamond that Kerry wanted to get a hold of. The scam went like this. Dave liked young men and all I had to do is knock on Dave's door, ask him if he wanted any handy work done around his house and Dave would immediately hire me. Dave had his own scam too. Dave would have you do some work in a bedroom alone and for one reason or another, the door would be locked. Dave would have to go out somewhere for about an hour and you were left in the room alone in this really nice bedroom that just happen to have a tv with porm. As a young man, it was typical for you to get aroused and the rest was history as Dave peeped through a hole in the wall that was disguised amongst the pictures etc that hung on the wall directly above the bed. It's amazing how much work I done in that room in the weeks ahead, but the goal was to find the diamond and anything else worth value as I build Dave's trust.
Long story short, Dave and I became friends and he asked me to move in with him. I had no need for Kerry any longer and I thought I had found somebody who actually liked me, and could support me. Dave continued to shower me with gifts and treat me well. I recall laying next to him one night thinking, “God I love this man” as it all came crashing down months later as he began to cheat on me and my illusion was shattered. Dave liked guns. One of his favorites was his 357 magnum with it's hair pin trigger and it's hollow tipped rounds. I had hit bottom, I was empty, confused and felt so emotionally torn. As I cried in pain and anguish, I took the 357 to a nearby field and placed it to my temple. As tears sobbed from my eyes, I felt the smoothness of the trigger and my world became black and quiet as it had when I was younger laying in my bed talking to God. I heard a calm, soothing voice say, “You have to see how this all turns out... remember.” Then I came out of it, looked at the gun and applied the safty.
My step brother Mike who had slept with my high school girlfriend was living at my Dad's house with his newborn child and his girlfriend when I moved back in. Mike was doing weekends in Juvenile and late one night, his girlfriend crawled into my bed naked. Don't mistake me, she was very attractive and I had often been jealous of Mike and thought that he didn't deserve such a good looking, nice girl. My conscience told me that it was wrong to be in bed with her naked, but she felt so soft and warm as she told me how she wanted me and how Mike was a jerk etc. In protest I kept saying, “It's not right, you have my brothers son.” to which she replied, “Doesn't this feel good? If it feels good, how can it be wrong?”. Several weeks later Mike came in on us and out of respect, I packed my belongings headed to the truck stop. (It was winter and it was snowing).
I figured I'd go to California since I was there once before that fall (another sub story) and what the heck, at least it was warm in LA. Besides, I loved the ocean. There was something so spectacular about the ocean with all it's beauty and power. That's when I met Gordon (Gordy) and he was just happening to be headed to LA after he picked up his load the next day. He offered his truck to me and I agreed. Inside, I knew that he was gay (you can always tell) and I was resistant at first, but I didn't see any other option so off to his truck we went where the inevitable occurred.
Once in LA, I pulled a few tricks on Santa Monica blvd when I ran into a drug dealer who took an interest in me. I never did give him what he wanted (sex), but he did turn me onto his supplier and we quickly became partners dealing pot. Shortly after, Gordy became my Taxi between L.A. And Spokane and it went something like this. I'd go to LA, get my drugs and Gordy would transport me and the pot back to Spokane. I'd sell it quickly and then head back to sunny LA. Ohh, I could tell many, many stories about running the streets of LA, all the crime, all the close calls and yes, even the death I saw. I thank God for watching over me during that time.
On one trip back to LA, Gordy asked me what I was going to do with my life and I told him I didn't know. He then asked me what I thought about driving truck to which I replied, “That would be fun!” The next morning we woke up in Cottonwood Ca, ate breakfast and when we returned to the truck, Gordy sat in the passenger seat. I was scared to death, but Gordy assured me I'd be fine. Soon after, Gordy got a job running all 48 states and I was his partner. When I turned 18, Gordy took me to the DMV and I passed the requirements and received the endorsements to drive Semi (although you had to be 21 to drive interstate). Shortly after, I was grandfathered into my CDL.
When I was 20, I couldn't do the sex thing with Gordy any longer and it was eating me up inside. Gordy understood this and today, I still have a lot of respect for Gordy for his ability to always put my feeling first and to always back me in my decisions. It was at this time I decided to get off the road and go get my GED. Shortly after getting my GED, I was working as a Lube Technician (I changed oil) at a Nissan dealership and I had my own place. That's when I met Denise who later became my wife.
StoveBolts
Patron
Denise was a knockout as far as looks were concerned, but she lacked greatly in the area of common sense a great deal of the time. Denise soon moved in with me and out problems began to spring up almost immediately after she spent her check on clothing instead of paying her share of the bills as we agreed. (she got her deceased fathers SSI check). This came to that and that came to this and several fights later and after loosing my job and apartment, I decided to move back to LA and Denise could come along for the ride if she wanted to. She tried to pack so much stuff, she actually wanted me to throw away the spare tire so she could fit more of her stuff in the trunk of my 71 Nova RS. Ha! Fat chance right? Wrong... the tire was removed.
After bumming off extended relatives in Lodi Ca and after bouncing around Hollywood and living in the car, Denise said she had a relative in San Jose so off we went. I soon found a job diving a delivery truck for a shelving and rack company located in Sunnyvale and about a week before payday, Denise's aunt kicked us out and we lived in the car until payday when we could afford an apartment. It was actually pretty cool. There was a hotel with a swimming pool and showers so every night, we'd go swimming, hang out in the jacuzzi and then shower for the next day.
But the bliss was again short lived and we were at each others throats. Push came to shove and I set up a situation where he only alternative was for her to move back to Spokane and I would stay in Sunnyvale and continue my life. Weeks later I was very lonely and figured out that every time somebody got close to me emotionally, I'd push them away. Denise, even though she had her faults was no different and once again, I was pushing her away. After finding her in Spokane via phone calls, I packed my car and headed back to her only to find that she was with my step brother Mike. After winning her back I chalked it up as, “We're even Mike.” and left it at that.
Denise would always ask me if I loved her, and I was always brutally honest with her and would reply, “I like you very much and you mean more to me than anyone else in the world, but love is serious and I don't want to lie to you. I'm sorry Denise, but I don't love you, but I do care about you very much and one day I know that when I love you, my heart will be open to you. Please, have patience with me, you mean the world to me” Shortly afterward Denise became pregnant and I remember jumping inside with immense joy and I asked her if she wanted to get married. Again she asked, “Do you love me.” and I said, “Yes, I love you very much, with all of my heart.” A couple weeks later we were married and I felt like the happiest person in the world.
I loved being able to talk to Denise about anything and I loved the way she respected my decisions as I cared for her. During one of her fits, I just came up to her and held her in my arms and told her how much I loved her. That's all she really needed, and I needed it too.
As the months moved on, Denise got bigger and bigger as life just seemed to radiate from her spirit. You could feel the baby kick inside and it was just such a wonderful feeling to know that between us, we were going to share what we had created together, as one. This child inside was both my flesh and her flesh and we were eternally bound together in this flood of endless reality that kept opening up and setting us free from the bondage of this lonesome world. My heart poured to to Denise in anticipation of what we shared together and the world was good.
My Dad, who also drove truck for a living put in his notice at the Union to get an old driving job back at Bayliner Marine hauling boats across the country. We were to drive as a team which would give me some official time behind the wheel under my own name as well as affording some quality time with my Dad who was trying to repair our broken relationship. For me, life was good. I had a job that paid just over $2,500 bring home a month (late 80's), I was spending badly needed time with my Dad, I had a beautiful wife (behind the scenes, I was proud that I was showing people I wasn't gay) and I had a child on the way.
I remember when my child was born I just held her in my arms and for the first time, all the walls that guarded my heart fell down and for the first time, I just honestly was able to love. I would hold her for hours just looking into her eyes and almost as if kinetically, we were bonded as one. I recall holding her and thinking, “I'd die for you”.
From my childhood, I had always wanted to have a family, children of my own and here that childhood dream had become a reality. Thoughts would flash back to the vision I was shown in my bed as a child and I was fearful as I felt an inner push to dedicate my life back to Jesus and to make sure that my daughter would be watched over by Him. I remember just breaking down in tears as I prayed to God that he would watch over my daughter as I asked him to forgive me for being so mean to so many people. I asked him to open my heart and heal my wounds so that I could give Denise what she needed from me as as a husband and that I would be a good provider for my family. Shortly after this, life got rough. Work slowed down and it felt like nothing was coming easy anymore as making bills each month became harder and harder until I got laid off and took a temp run with a trucking buddy to Boston and back returning late Christmas Eve which further strained my relationship with Denise. After New Year's eve, it was another East Coast run before my job with Bayliner opened up again.
When I got back, I had money to pay the bills, but Denise seemed distant. I knew that she didn't want me to go and it would be years before I knew the truth. But I did the best I knew how and soon found out that Denise was pregnant with our second child. Not just any second child, but a special Christmas child conceived on Christmas Eve. I was sure that this was God's plans and God's blessing as I tried to rekindle my relationship with him as well as my relationship with Denise. When Denise told me that she wanted an abortion, I part of me died in the reality that my wife could kill a part of us. Life was sacred, a gift from God and the unborn child who was conceived on Christmas was God's assurance to me that there was something bigger than myself ruling the cosmos and that He did answer prayers. Still, the fear of what my childhood vision revealed sat fearfully in the back of my mind. How was this going to turn out? The details were fuzzy and Denise had a way of pressing and nagging until she got her way. “Fine” I said, “You go ahead and get an abortion, but I'll have no part of it. None, do you hear me? None! My hands are clean!” Denise set up the appointment and was surprised when I said to her, “No, you take our child and find a sitter, when I said I would have nothing to do with the abortion, I meant nothing, including finding a sitter.”
OK, here comes some restim...
The night before the abortion, we went out to see a movie. We arrived home late that night and Denise insisted that Stephanie not sleep in her crib in our room, but rather on the couch in the front room. I argued against it but in the end, tired of the argument and placed Stephanie on the couch, gave her a big kiss and hug, and said a prayer. Back in the bedroom, it was a cold night as the alarm went off at 6 am and Denise's cousin came to pick me up a bit later to do some junk yarding. Before I left the duplex for that early sunny morning, I leaned over and kissed Stephanie as a flood of emotions and love poured out from my soul to her. She was precious to me, my savior if you will. She made me whole and complete and I knew that she would never hurt me. She's all I really had, everyone else had betrayed me. She stirred a tad, turned over, started to cry for her bottle and I left thinking, “Get up Denise and feed her, then you'll have enough love in you to save the child your going to abort.” and I walked out the door.
Denise's cousin Becky and I went out for breakfast and then we went to the Junk Yard. After hours of playing at the Junk yard we decided to go over to my Dad's house. I'll never forget pulling in the driveway in my cousins 1969 2 door red Chevelle when my step sister came running out the doorway in a panic asking what I was doing there which I replied, “I just thought I'd hang out, why?”. She replied, “Stephanie is in the hospital and she's not breathing.” “What!” I replied as my step sister repeated herself. “Which one” I asked as I jumped back into the car (Drivers seat this time) and began to back out of the driveway as my heart began to race and I tried to keep calm.
Down the block a cop had pulled over another car and I asked him for an escort across town to which he said no, and that I had better not speed. Pissed off, I pulled away resisting the urge to do a burn out and speed 90 mph across town but running red lights where I could. The car was silent as we drove across town (I'm having a hard time reliving this) and a sense of calmness fell over me as I placed the car in park at the hospital emergency room and we walked in, asked where my daughter was and the nurse pointed to an emergency room.
I walked into the room. Denise was sitting down in a chair to the right and the doctor was standing bedside to the right. In the bed lay Stephanie. I glanced at Denise and then at the Doctor. No words were exchanged and I knew she was gone, I could feel it.
I reached down, gently picked her up and held her against my chest and just started rocking her as my lip started to tremble and tears started roll down my cheek. I don't know how long I held her, but I could feel something inside, as if her spirit was still there and then it began to fade. I gently placed her back in the bed, gave her a kiss, looked at Denise and me, Denise and our unborn child left as the Doctor stated, “It's called SIDDS, they're is nothing you could have done.” On the drive home, It took a little convincing to Denise that she was not going to get an abortion.
The driver I went to Boston with met me at home, and as we came into the duplex, I sat on the couch where Stephanie was earlier. My friend (who's name escapes me) sat next to me on my right and Denise pulled up a chair from the dining room. I recall the numbness and the quietness of the house. You could feel the air as the silence penetrated my ear drums and I noticed in the lower arm of the couch, a perfect imprint of Stephanie's head I quickly assesed that was caused by the sweat and pressure against the lower arm next to the back. Was I seeing what I thought I was seeing? I looked at John and he noticed it as well and we just looked at each other in silence. Denise sat in her chair like a scared child as I looked at her in anger, then apathy and said, “The doctor said it was SIDDs, there was nothing we could have done.” John agreed, then we both agreed we needed to throw away the couch so we packed it across the street and left it by the curb. It didn't take long for somebody to snag it.
Denise felt it would be a good idea if we went to see a movie to get our minds off all this, so off to see the movie Airplane we went and every time Denise laughed, I hated her even more. However, she held my unborn child in her womb. Not only my unborn child, but my child conceived on Christmas Eve, the same child that's life that was spared at the expense of my firstborn. Emotions ran so high, all the dreams, all the glory. I tasted a glimmer of pure love with Stephanie, and I was lost with little hope except that which resided in the woman I was beginning for the first time to truly despise. That anger then became directed at God and my hatred burned toward him to the point of passing out on occation. The grief was so heavy and for the next six months it hit at the least expected time. Thank goodness I knew the tale tale signs several minutes before I'd pass out and several times while driving truck, I'd simply pull over where ever I was before I became unconscious for about 15 – 20 minutes and I would wake up dazed and confused.
Enough was enough, I couldn't' take it any longer and I decided to run away for a bit to find myself. I was lost, dazed and confused so I tricked my best friend to got to Portland Ore with me before I told him I was running away to the Florida Keys. Monte agreed to go with me and off to Isla Marada we went.
After bumming off extended relatives in Lodi Ca and after bouncing around Hollywood and living in the car, Denise said she had a relative in San Jose so off we went. I soon found a job diving a delivery truck for a shelving and rack company located in Sunnyvale and about a week before payday, Denise's aunt kicked us out and we lived in the car until payday when we could afford an apartment. It was actually pretty cool. There was a hotel with a swimming pool and showers so every night, we'd go swimming, hang out in the jacuzzi and then shower for the next day.
But the bliss was again short lived and we were at each others throats. Push came to shove and I set up a situation where he only alternative was for her to move back to Spokane and I would stay in Sunnyvale and continue my life. Weeks later I was very lonely and figured out that every time somebody got close to me emotionally, I'd push them away. Denise, even though she had her faults was no different and once again, I was pushing her away. After finding her in Spokane via phone calls, I packed my car and headed back to her only to find that she was with my step brother Mike. After winning her back I chalked it up as, “We're even Mike.” and left it at that.
Denise would always ask me if I loved her, and I was always brutally honest with her and would reply, “I like you very much and you mean more to me than anyone else in the world, but love is serious and I don't want to lie to you. I'm sorry Denise, but I don't love you, but I do care about you very much and one day I know that when I love you, my heart will be open to you. Please, have patience with me, you mean the world to me” Shortly afterward Denise became pregnant and I remember jumping inside with immense joy and I asked her if she wanted to get married. Again she asked, “Do you love me.” and I said, “Yes, I love you very much, with all of my heart.” A couple weeks later we were married and I felt like the happiest person in the world.
I loved being able to talk to Denise about anything and I loved the way she respected my decisions as I cared for her. During one of her fits, I just came up to her and held her in my arms and told her how much I loved her. That's all she really needed, and I needed it too.
As the months moved on, Denise got bigger and bigger as life just seemed to radiate from her spirit. You could feel the baby kick inside and it was just such a wonderful feeling to know that between us, we were going to share what we had created together, as one. This child inside was both my flesh and her flesh and we were eternally bound together in this flood of endless reality that kept opening up and setting us free from the bondage of this lonesome world. My heart poured to to Denise in anticipation of what we shared together and the world was good.
My Dad, who also drove truck for a living put in his notice at the Union to get an old driving job back at Bayliner Marine hauling boats across the country. We were to drive as a team which would give me some official time behind the wheel under my own name as well as affording some quality time with my Dad who was trying to repair our broken relationship. For me, life was good. I had a job that paid just over $2,500 bring home a month (late 80's), I was spending badly needed time with my Dad, I had a beautiful wife (behind the scenes, I was proud that I was showing people I wasn't gay) and I had a child on the way.
I remember when my child was born I just held her in my arms and for the first time, all the walls that guarded my heart fell down and for the first time, I just honestly was able to love. I would hold her for hours just looking into her eyes and almost as if kinetically, we were bonded as one. I recall holding her and thinking, “I'd die for you”.
From my childhood, I had always wanted to have a family, children of my own and here that childhood dream had become a reality. Thoughts would flash back to the vision I was shown in my bed as a child and I was fearful as I felt an inner push to dedicate my life back to Jesus and to make sure that my daughter would be watched over by Him. I remember just breaking down in tears as I prayed to God that he would watch over my daughter as I asked him to forgive me for being so mean to so many people. I asked him to open my heart and heal my wounds so that I could give Denise what she needed from me as as a husband and that I would be a good provider for my family. Shortly after this, life got rough. Work slowed down and it felt like nothing was coming easy anymore as making bills each month became harder and harder until I got laid off and took a temp run with a trucking buddy to Boston and back returning late Christmas Eve which further strained my relationship with Denise. After New Year's eve, it was another East Coast run before my job with Bayliner opened up again.
When I got back, I had money to pay the bills, but Denise seemed distant. I knew that she didn't want me to go and it would be years before I knew the truth. But I did the best I knew how and soon found out that Denise was pregnant with our second child. Not just any second child, but a special Christmas child conceived on Christmas Eve. I was sure that this was God's plans and God's blessing as I tried to rekindle my relationship with him as well as my relationship with Denise. When Denise told me that she wanted an abortion, I part of me died in the reality that my wife could kill a part of us. Life was sacred, a gift from God and the unborn child who was conceived on Christmas was God's assurance to me that there was something bigger than myself ruling the cosmos and that He did answer prayers. Still, the fear of what my childhood vision revealed sat fearfully in the back of my mind. How was this going to turn out? The details were fuzzy and Denise had a way of pressing and nagging until she got her way. “Fine” I said, “You go ahead and get an abortion, but I'll have no part of it. None, do you hear me? None! My hands are clean!” Denise set up the appointment and was surprised when I said to her, “No, you take our child and find a sitter, when I said I would have nothing to do with the abortion, I meant nothing, including finding a sitter.”
OK, here comes some restim...
The night before the abortion, we went out to see a movie. We arrived home late that night and Denise insisted that Stephanie not sleep in her crib in our room, but rather on the couch in the front room. I argued against it but in the end, tired of the argument and placed Stephanie on the couch, gave her a big kiss and hug, and said a prayer. Back in the bedroom, it was a cold night as the alarm went off at 6 am and Denise's cousin came to pick me up a bit later to do some junk yarding. Before I left the duplex for that early sunny morning, I leaned over and kissed Stephanie as a flood of emotions and love poured out from my soul to her. She was precious to me, my savior if you will. She made me whole and complete and I knew that she would never hurt me. She's all I really had, everyone else had betrayed me. She stirred a tad, turned over, started to cry for her bottle and I left thinking, “Get up Denise and feed her, then you'll have enough love in you to save the child your going to abort.” and I walked out the door.
Denise's cousin Becky and I went out for breakfast and then we went to the Junk Yard. After hours of playing at the Junk yard we decided to go over to my Dad's house. I'll never forget pulling in the driveway in my cousins 1969 2 door red Chevelle when my step sister came running out the doorway in a panic asking what I was doing there which I replied, “I just thought I'd hang out, why?”. She replied, “Stephanie is in the hospital and she's not breathing.” “What!” I replied as my step sister repeated herself. “Which one” I asked as I jumped back into the car (Drivers seat this time) and began to back out of the driveway as my heart began to race and I tried to keep calm.
Down the block a cop had pulled over another car and I asked him for an escort across town to which he said no, and that I had better not speed. Pissed off, I pulled away resisting the urge to do a burn out and speed 90 mph across town but running red lights where I could. The car was silent as we drove across town (I'm having a hard time reliving this) and a sense of calmness fell over me as I placed the car in park at the hospital emergency room and we walked in, asked where my daughter was and the nurse pointed to an emergency room.
I walked into the room. Denise was sitting down in a chair to the right and the doctor was standing bedside to the right. In the bed lay Stephanie. I glanced at Denise and then at the Doctor. No words were exchanged and I knew she was gone, I could feel it.
I reached down, gently picked her up and held her against my chest and just started rocking her as my lip started to tremble and tears started roll down my cheek. I don't know how long I held her, but I could feel something inside, as if her spirit was still there and then it began to fade. I gently placed her back in the bed, gave her a kiss, looked at Denise and me, Denise and our unborn child left as the Doctor stated, “It's called SIDDS, they're is nothing you could have done.” On the drive home, It took a little convincing to Denise that she was not going to get an abortion.
The driver I went to Boston with met me at home, and as we came into the duplex, I sat on the couch where Stephanie was earlier. My friend (who's name escapes me) sat next to me on my right and Denise pulled up a chair from the dining room. I recall the numbness and the quietness of the house. You could feel the air as the silence penetrated my ear drums and I noticed in the lower arm of the couch, a perfect imprint of Stephanie's head I quickly assesed that was caused by the sweat and pressure against the lower arm next to the back. Was I seeing what I thought I was seeing? I looked at John and he noticed it as well and we just looked at each other in silence. Denise sat in her chair like a scared child as I looked at her in anger, then apathy and said, “The doctor said it was SIDDs, there was nothing we could have done.” John agreed, then we both agreed we needed to throw away the couch so we packed it across the street and left it by the curb. It didn't take long for somebody to snag it.
Denise felt it would be a good idea if we went to see a movie to get our minds off all this, so off to see the movie Airplane we went and every time Denise laughed, I hated her even more. However, she held my unborn child in her womb. Not only my unborn child, but my child conceived on Christmas Eve, the same child that's life that was spared at the expense of my firstborn. Emotions ran so high, all the dreams, all the glory. I tasted a glimmer of pure love with Stephanie, and I was lost with little hope except that which resided in the woman I was beginning for the first time to truly despise. That anger then became directed at God and my hatred burned toward him to the point of passing out on occation. The grief was so heavy and for the next six months it hit at the least expected time. Thank goodness I knew the tale tale signs several minutes before I'd pass out and several times while driving truck, I'd simply pull over where ever I was before I became unconscious for about 15 – 20 minutes and I would wake up dazed and confused.
Enough was enough, I couldn't' take it any longer and I decided to run away for a bit to find myself. I was lost, dazed and confused so I tricked my best friend to got to Portland Ore with me before I told him I was running away to the Florida Keys. Monte agreed to go with me and off to Isla Marada we went.
StoveBolts
Patron
This is my first time telling it... the hard part to tell is yet to come... I'm not really sure if I can do some of this anymore... but I feel a need to tell my story, a story that I know many others share.
As a side note, I have read many stories from others on this forum and I have drawn much encouragement by reading their stories.
Charles Carmichael
Patron
Not trying to bump this, just wanted to mention the red headed guy that keeps coming up in this story is probably Jack Kruchko (Krooch-ko). He was the Chief Engineer at Pac Renos. Another possibility is it was Marty Lafreniere, who was the head plumber. Oh, and the 'special name' for the place out back where the trash compactor was, was 'VRU' (vehicle repair unit), but that isn't where the HVAC set was (at least while I was there). HVAC was in the asho parking lot, right by the door that lead down into the pac renos offices. Those were different times....I remember being jealous of the renos guys, because they seemed to at least be doing something worthwhile.
Similar threads
