Daddy Goes to Jail…

Well, I made it through kindergarten and it is summer time. I always enjoyed summer time because my Aunt Joyce and Uncle Ribbit (Robert, I couldn’t say his name) would come and get me and I would spend the summer at their home is Pensacola, Florida.  This was the only time I felt safe.  I loved going to her house. She would always take me shopping  for new clothes. I only got new clothes when I went to her house.  I got to take a warm bath in a bath tub every night and I got to sleep in a nice  cozy bed. My husband laughs at me when I iron my sheets but my Aunt Joyce always ironed her linens and  I remember how wonderful they felt on my clean body. Ironed sheets is a good childhood memory.

Aunt Joyce told me my mom was coming to pick me up. It was late August. I was sad to leave Aunt Joyce’s house but I was happy to see my mama and my new baby sister. My mama had given birth to her 4th child at the age of 22.  When my mama got there she was crying. My mama and Aunt Joyce went into the living room to talk and me and Uncle Ribbet went into the kitchen. He made me a milkshake.

On the way home from Pensacola I learned that my dad was in jail and he was going to be there for a year. Apparently he and a friend decided to burn the sheriffs van to the ground after they robbed it.  Anyway, he was sentenced to one year in jail with 5 years probation.

So there my mama was 22 years old with 4 children, no job, a husband in jail, and lived next door to her in-laws in a  house that didn’t have running water.  She must have felt desperate.

With the help of my aunts (my mother had 5 sisters and 2 brothers), we moved into a HUD apartment. It was a 3 bedroom 1 bath apartment that had running water, heat, air conditioning, and a telephone. I felt like I was in heaven. My mom got a job at the Tom Thumb and my Aunt Mira (dad’s youngest sister, she was still in high school) would babysit us while mom worked at night.

My mom’s sisters and brother that lived in town stopped by frequently to check on us. This was very odd because usually the only time that I saw them was at Christmas.

That was the best year of my childhood. My mom would come and eat lunch with me at school, I was in first grade now. She gave me 35 cents everyday to buy ice cream for my afternoon snack. We always had plenty to eat. My mom was happy and she smiled all the time.  I would watch her put her makeup on before she went to work. She was so pretty.

Christmas came and I had never seen so many presents in my life. I remember I got a record player, a Smurfs record, and a jewelery box that had a dancing ballerina inside. I got tons of new clothes and shoes that fit. We went to my grandmother’s house (not the mean one, my mama’s mom) and she made me a red velvet cake. It was my favorite.

The year flew by and before we knew it, it was time for Daddy to get out of jail. I couldn’t wait for him to see my room and our new apartment. I knew he was going to love our new place as much as I did.

The day he got out of jail, there were several of his friends over and the whole apartment  was full of the stinky kind of smoke. I remember walking in, and the white stuff was was lined up on the coffee table.  I wasn’t supposed to touch it.  Daddy was drinking Jack Daniels out of the bottle like he always did and most everyone else was drinking beer. I hated it when  my dad had friends over because they stayed really late and it was hard to go to sleep with the radio so loud.

That night Daddy got drunk and beat my mama up really bad.  We had to move back to the green house because the neighbor lady called the law on my dad and he didn’t like her anymore. We had to move back to the country so no one would be in his business. We had to leave our warm, cozy apartment that for one year was a very happy time. From that moment on, I saw nothing but sadness in my mama’s eyes.

Stay tuned for more as I chronicle my journey from extreme poverty and abuse to my new life of love and happiness.

Sandy