HANDCUFFED AND TOSSED INTO FOSTER CARE

 HANDCUFFED AND TOSSED INTO FOSTER CARE

The Guardianship ended too soon.  Mommy called Rick and asked him to put me on a bus to Santa Barbara.

I remember the first feeling of not wanting to be with Mommy or anybody.  My life was turned upside down and she took us from place to place so often we could not keep up.  We often wondered where we would go next and we were failing school because we never stayed anywhere long enough to learn anything.  

Upon my first arrival I found them all living in a motel once again.   How much more would this be until we finally settle down. 

Mommy was excited to  see me, but I wasn't excited to  see her. 

I had no choice.   We were crammed into one room and slept on the floor.  Mommy always took the bed. (By the way, it wouldn't be the last time.)

Daniel and I went to Santa Barbara Junior High School.   He was in the Eighth grade; I was in Ninth.  Here I was back in Junior High. 

Daniel and I joined the band and hoped to learn how to play instruments so that we could join the marching band.  The marching band was invited to perform at Disneyland.  Daniel and I stayed behind.

The motel manager was kicking us out  and we had to move again.  Mommy took on a lot of the burden of always finding us all another place to live.  At least she had the welfare people to help her or she went on her own looking for a home for us.

Back in 1977 it was easy to get a house or apartment to rent.  They didn't ask for a credit check or deposit or 2 to 3 times the rent for income.  They took the person's word that they could pay the rent. 

She found a small house somewhere near the 101 freeway which was also in a different school district.  The house did not come with a stove or a refrigerator.  This would become a major factor in this story.   

I would attend La Cumbre Junior High School and it was kinda Ghetto.

Rick was far away now, so I didn't miss him much.   I wrote letters to him and pretended that I was in love.  Actually, I didn't care too much about my  relationship with him and was beginning to consider my own life as a teenager free from a boyfriend. 

As we were settling into our new surroundings we went about our lives doing normal things. 

We went to school, we made friends with the neighbors, went to the beach.  we had normal lives.  Daniel had a paper route which was a normal job that young boys did.   When he wasn't using his bicycle I would ride it freely up and down the streets in our neighborhood.  I tied a radio to the handlebars and enjoyed my rides with music.

I had hopes of finally settling down into a normal family life.  That hope was shattered one day when tragedy struck.

One fine morning we had all walked to the grocery store to shop for food.  Mommy was with us.  We were tired and looking forward to getting home, putting the groceries away and relaxing.  We pushed the shopping cart all the way home and actually entered the living room with the whole shopping cart full of food.   

I was wearing my blue jean dress and had just taken off my shoes when suddenly there was a knock on the front door.

Let me say here that our brother, David just joined the Army at age 17 and Elaine was over 18.   David was gone and Elaine stayed with us. 

Mommy answered the door and there stood two officers and one woman.  They claimed they were F.B.I. and the woman was from the welfare department . 

I was thinking why was the F.B.I. here?  They said that someone reported my mother for abusing us and starving us , so they are going to take us away into Foster Homes. 

Me and my two little brothers, Daniel and Timmy.  

I went on a rampage.  I looked at them and yelled out, "We just came home with a cart full of food right here in front of you.   Do I look starving to you?  I am a teenage girl.  I am supposed to be thin not fat." 

At that time Mommy was not abusing us .  

I was hysterically upset and I ran into the kitchen.  The cops immediately ran after me.  Mommy was yelling at them and she ran across the street to the neighbor's house to call her mother in New York.  I ran after her and called Rick.  He told me to cooperate with them.  I ran back to the kitchen screaming at everybody.  The cops tackled me to the floor and grabbed me everywhere; grabbed my arms behind my back and handcuffed me and pushed me into the police car like a common criminal.  I truly believed that they were arresting me.  This was very violent abuse on me and severely traumatizing. I was screaming at them the entire time on my way to the police station.  They pulled me out of the car and manhandled me into the station then put me into an empty room and left me alone and locked the door.  (My mind was on escaping and running away.) 

When they finally opened the door I yelled at them again that they had no right at all to treat me like this.  I was a prisoner of the Foster Care system.

There are many more grizzly details to the story about my treatment as a so-called foster care victim.

My release was to be done only upon the demands  of the judge who ordered my mother to buy a stove and refrigerator for the house we were renting and she was given two weeks to do so. 

As soon as the two weeks were up she told the judge that she had made the purchases.  

I wasn't allowed to speak up to tell the judge what was happening t me in the house where they put me and said children are not able to speak for themselves.  (What a crock that was.  I was 15 and had a brain bigger than they would ever have.)  Boy did I have lots to say.  

Anyway ,  they allowed my brothers and I to go home on a 2 week trial bases.  My brothers were taken to a different home where they were treated well, while I was in HELL the entire time. 

As soon as we got home , Mommy already had a plan and everything was packed.  We did not sleep in that house ever again.

That night we got into the neighbor's car and they drove us to a town up North where we caught a bus back to San Francisco.  Elaine stayed behind with friends and I didn't see her again until some time later.  

We ended up right back in a junky motel in a small town where Rick lived.   

My life with Rick would begin from that moment on.  

Ever since this incident happened I had felt traumatized by it for 50 years.   

THE GUARDIAN AND THE ANGEL

THE GUARDIAN AND THE ANGEL 

 

We were getting ready to leave Seattle since Mommy was told by the FBI to leave.   

I thought we were all going together on a bus back to California.

She decided to take the family further south to Santa Barbara.  She was always spontaneous and never thought about the consequences of her actions.

Where and how she got the money , I don't know.  She always seemed to have a way to get it.  

I mentioned a secret person who was around in my life.  I promised to reveal that person, so this is the time to reveal.

While Mommy was cooking up a plan as to where to go, she had an additional plan in mind.  

She knew about the person whom I met in San Francisco.  He was my boyfriend.  Rick was way too old to be my boyfriend.  He became my accidental boyfriend through a chance meeting.  (That is another long story.)  We met shortly after our family moved to San Francisco.  

I was 13 and he was 24.  Over a year had passed since we met and I wasn't very attached to him like most couples were.  I called him my boyfriend and he treated me like his "little girlfriend" and I didn't think that I would be his girlfriend for very long.

Rick was the man who was shaping me into a good girl by telling me to go to school, never be late, and always do my homework.

He took me to places that I was too young to go to and illegal, like casinos, and his friend's houses where they drank and smoked.

( I know , not a good thing , right?  

Even if I wasn't around Rick, I would never do any of those things.

In many was I was a good girl by myself.  These were my own choices by nature. 

Now the Seattle incident helped in a way to bring me back to Rick.  Rick, being an adult, would be able to take care of me if he had to.   He was from another country and on a student visa so he had explained to me that he needed a Green Card in order to remain in America.  He explained in detail how he would be able to obtain a Green Card.  In the meantime, he was afraid of being deported if he didn't get one. 

This was very important information because of the other half of Mommy's plan before we left Seattle.

Mommy , somehow thought it was best to put me on a bus alone to San Francisco and ask Rick to be my guardian for a few weeks.  

She would leave with the other children on a bus ahead of me to Santa Barbara.  

I was afraid of getting on a bus alone.   I had to do it.  She wasn't going to take me with her.  I had various thoughts of where to get off and if I would get lost or even get off at the right stop.  I had other thoughts of where I would stay.  Mommy talked to Rick about taking me to his friend's house to stay with them.

He was living in the basement room of his bosses' house that he rented from her.  He would not be able to apply for a guardianship for me because he didn't have a green card .  

He, instead asked his boss if she would do it.  She knew me and had met me at her restaurant she owned.  She was married and owned her house too so she would be able to become my Guardian for a while. 

I had wondered why Mommy wanted to send me to stay with Rick.

Maybe one less child to take care of and maybe she trusted Rick enough to take care of me.  

Rick and I would share his room in the basement.   His room was equipped with a bathroom so we would not have to go upstairs to use his bosses' bathroom.  

Linda, his friend , agreed to be my guardian until my mother called for me.  Linda enrolled me in school.  I thought that was a waste of time since Mommy could call for me at any time.  

I was finally going to be in high school.  Some high schools in California don't include the ninth grade.  I would be in the 9th grade .

I began going to school everyday.  I walked to school since it wasn't too far from  Linda's house. Linda lived in Daly City which is right outside of the San Francisco City limits. 

While attending school I felt comfortable there and unafraid of the other students. 

For the first time in my life I felt genuine kindness from these students.  They welcomed me and talked nicely to me.  I was not sure if it was really genuine and I didn't care.  I never got to know them very long.  That saddened me.   I had wished that Mommy would not call for me and let me stay with Rick.  It wasn't because of Rick.  It was because I was happy in this school.  The other students were shocked and sad to see me leave so soon.  I did not know what to say.  Everything I did was a secret I kept hidden from everyone I met. 

Unfortunately, Mommy called for me way too soon.  I had to leave Daly City , Rick and school.  Once again, my future was uncertain.  

The day I announced that it was my last day at school all of the students expressed a sigh of sorry you are leaving sigh.

None of this was fair and everything only got worse.  

The Guardian and the Angel was over.   Me, the Angel left Daly City forever.  

By the way, my middle name is actually Angel.  

SUNBURN AND NOXZEMA

 SUNBURN AND NOXZEMA

For those of you who read my latest blog about the runaway girl, this is a back story before she ran away.

The events I talk about are not always in the order of when something happened.  For example, I told you about the time Chrissy ran away from home. 

Our mother moved us often and we never lived anywhere for a long time.  Sometimes we lasted only a few weeks.  After moving from Geneva Towers to a 3 bedroom house near Golden Gate Park.

Going back in time; it was the time I was still in the Eighth grade at Hoover Junior High School.  I was hanging out with Chrissy which I knew was the wrong thing to do. I should not have been around her and she was the only person I knew.  I considered her a classmate as opposed to an actual friend.

She often skipped classes and wondered up and down the hallways.

I was slipping behind in my studies, but nobody seemed to care; least of all my mother. 

I took the city bus to school.  I went everyday and always tried to be on time.  I usually was, but sometimes my lingering caused me to be late. 

Back in the 1970's there we people called Truant Officers who would go to the parent's homes to make sure the students were actually in school and not running around loose on the streets. This was the law and there would be consequences for the parents and the children.  I was more afraid of the Truant Officers than my own mother.

My mother often wanted things her way and one day in San Francisco the weather was very hot which was very unusual for any time of the year. 

One day it was at least 100 degrees and when I left for school that day , my mother expected me to meet her at the beach at noon.  

The beach was not very far from school so I could walk there.

She warned me that she would be extremely mad if I did not show up at the beach exactly when she said to . 

I was very hesitant about meeting her when I was supposed to be in school.  We only went to school because it was the law not because it was educational. 

Back in the 70's Truant Officers would show up at a child's home who had frequently been absent without an excuse. 

I was not prepared for the beach since it was a school day so I was wearing long pants on this very hot day and I knew it would be difficult for me to enjoy my time at the beach because of the fact that I could not get wet and could barely manage to roll up my pant legs to lie in the sun to suntan. 

I left school as soon as I could right after the bell rang for lunch. I was worried about being in trouble for leaving school and if I did not meet my mother at noon. 

So I ran quickly out of school and down the street that led to the beach.

My mother was there with my little brother, Timmy who never left her side.  She kept him out of school, even though he should have been in the third grade by then.

I found a spot to lay down a towel that she brought along for me to use.  I rolled up my pant legs up to my knees and I didn't have any sunscreen.  I walked down to the water to wade in a few inches not wanting to get my clothes wet. 

Even though the temperature was hot, the water was still cold. I love the water and enjoy the beach.  I headed back to the towel and laid on the ground. I closed my eyes to feel the warmth of the sun on my face and had only been lying there a few minutes with my bare legs exposed to the sun.

Little did I know that those few moments exposed to the sun would actually burn my legs so badly that when it was time to leave I could hardly walk.  I felt such pain and I was crying as I slowly walked my way back to the road where we could catch the bus home. 

I regretted that day , especially the outcome.

I do not recall whether my mother blamed me or actually cared that I was suffering the consequences of skipping school.  
After all, she threatened to abuse me if I did not do as she asked. 

When we got home I carefully removed my clothes immediately and saw the dark, red color on my legs.  I was suffering and I would suffer for many days after that. 

My mother sometimes wore make-up and she had bought a white cream called Noxzema to apply to remove her make-up.  

The Noxzema was the only product we had at the time so she helped apply it to my burned legs to sooth the pain. It really helped relieve some of the pain temporarily. 

Now I promised to mention the pit stop I made after we left Seattle. I had an older friend that I met when we lived downtown in our first small apartment in San Francisco.  This friend visited me sometimes from downtown when he had the time. 

Since we didn't have a telephone, he came to visit us by car. 

Yes, he was old enough to drive.  He became a good friend of our family after meeting us through my older sister.  

His name was Rick.  The day after my beach incident, he came by to visit and by the look on his face I could tell that he was not happy to find out that I had skipped school and gone to the beach. 

Since he seemed to care about me, he felt inclined to help me heal my legs so after scolding me about allowing it to happen he helped me by applying the Noxzema gently to my legs and applying bandages.  I felt bad and guilty for what I had done. 

Since he was older, he assured me that it was best for me to be in school and not playing at the beach.  I was aware of his need to teach me this and he understood a little bit better after I explained the consequences I would face at the hands of my mother.

At this time I will not reveal too much about this friend. Those of you who know me can take a guess at who he turned out to be.

Noxzema does help sooth sunburn.  I was warned to never let it happen again.  I kept that promise for sure.

The end of a bad day at the beach.

Written by:

Heather A. Pasaphunthu 

THE RUNAWAY and the FBI

 THE RUNAWAY and the FBI

The fact that our mother always seemed  to want to move or was forced to move was a burden on us all.  Often times we did not know what she would do next.

We were living in two separate apartments.  One for the three boys and the other for the girls.  My sister and I slept on the floor while our mother had her own bed.  This apartment was very small and cramped.  My three brothers were living it up in their very own place.

These apartments were the first apartments located downtown in the really bad Tenderloin district.  We had been living in rented houses since I was very young; so apartment living was very new to us all.

I had no idea how long we would be living there.  It didn't cross my mind that we would move out.

I had started to go to school everyday on the city bus for the first time so I had  to rely on myself to catch the bus to and from school.

Little did I know we were being kicked out of the two apartments shortly after moving in; which was a few short months.

The manager already had 2 families ready to move into both apartments and he charged them higher rent. 

As I mentioned before, my mother didn't care where we lived.

To my surprise she found the Geneva Towers far on the outskirts of the city.  These towers were built especially for low-income families.

They were brand new 20 story twin towers.

These apartments were more modern and very nice and clean.  Mommy managed to get us into a 2 bedroom apartment.  This time the boys lived with us.  I felt ok there just a little bit scared of the neighbors.

Nothing last forever because one day my sister and I were home alone and a few of the neighbor children knocked on the door and Elaine opened it.  These children were big for their age and they were able to bust in the door and beat us both up and rob us.

Here we go again.  We packed our bags and moved into an upstairs 3 bedroom house which was over a restaurant in a much better neighborhood very close to Golden Gate Park.

By this time I had changed schools and entered the Eighth Grade.

This new neighborhood was a little bit upper class and I was able t meet new people to play with.

My brother Doug was pleased with this new place and he liked to explore the neighborhood.  He made friends easily and met 2 teenage girls who were sisters.  They were Robin and Chrissy.

Robin and Chrissy lived with their parents in a nice house a few blocks from where we lived. Robin was Doug's age and Chrissy was my age. 

Chrissy and I went to the same school and we were in the same classes.  I did not hang out with Chrissy much and when I did she often wanted to do something bad like skip class or hang outside.  I knew she was trouble and she often made us both late for class.

We managed to live in that house through most of the school year.  Being a child was one reason parents used for not having to tell their business or give a child a reason for their actions.

Without our knowledge she had decided to move us all to Seattle, Washington. 

Doug wasn't happy.  I wasn't happy and the other children were surprised about this decision.  Elaine didn't care one way or the other. 

For some reason Doug ran off to visit Robin and somehow persuaded Chrissy to run away from her "horrible" life at home with her bad parents.

Was Chrissy really afraid of her parents or just stupid enough to run away from home simply because Doug told her to?

Since we were still on Welfare Mommy probably didn't pay the rent again so that she could pay for the train ride for all of us to move to Seattle.

This was really happening.  We got our stuff packed and left a lot of stuff behind.  Mommy never cared about furniture or appliances or things we really needed.  We usually packed our clothes and left everything else behind.

At the last minute, Chrissy showed up with her suitcase in hand.  Apparently Mommy had already purchased a ticket for her and claimed her as her daughter.

Little did I know that it was illegal to take a minor child who was not your own legal child across state lines.  Well, we were going to cross two state lines.  The first being the California-Oregon border; the second , the Oregon-Washington border.

I was shocked to know that Chrissy really ran away from home and she did not seem to realize the seriousness of her situation or her circumstances.  She may have believed she was taking a trip with us and playing along.

This was not a game.  This was real.  She was actually running away from home and Mommy was responsible for her.  The other children wondered why she was going with us.  Doug laughed and thought it was funny.  He even pretended to be Chrissy's boyfriend.

The train would take 24 hours which would be an extremely long and tiring trip.

I, especially did not want to leave San Francisco.  What choice did I have?  I could be angry and pissed at Mommy, and I probably was.

While we were on the train, Chrissy and Doug sat next to each other enjoying the ride and did not feel guilty about what Chrissy was doing.  I didn't talk to her much.  I didn't have much to say.  I didn't even ask her about her parents or her life at home.  This was the way I always was.  I never asked  anything about people's lives.  It wasn't because I didn't care or was consumed with my own life.  I just never asked questions.  It was my nature.  I was just like that.

(I am still like that today.)

We arrived in Seattle.  We were tired, hungry and there was no place to go. 

Mommy did the first thing she could think of.  Something she had done before.  We had walked to the first motel we could find.  There were seven of us now.  Mommy managed to get us 2 rooms.  Both with a kitchenette.  A kitchenette was a small kitchen with a mini refrigerator, a stove and a small table that folded down from the wall.

The one thing we always do when we get to a new place is explore the town.  Seattle is a big city that is famous for the Space Needle.

A tall towering skyscraper with a top like a needle. It is still the main attraction of Seattle today. 

There is also a Monorail , tram/train  type of ride that travels to the Space Needle.  So we took a ride on the Monorail and that was fun.

We were always broke so we couldn't do much and we didn't go to school either. 

We stayed at the motel and watched TV and nothing much more. 

I was wondering how long we would last in Seattle and secretly wishing to go back to San Francisco. ( I had a good reason for this to be revealed at a later time.) 

We had only been in Seattle about 2 weeks.  I wondered if anyone was looking for Chrissy.

We didn't have a telephone as usual, so I didn't know if she had contacted her parents to let them know that she was ok or if she even missed them and wanted to go home.

All of a sudden , it happened.  Doug came running into the motel room yelling about the FBI.

He was very excited, out of breath and started telling everybody that the FBI is after Mommy  and that they have a warrant for her arrest for kidnapping Chrissy and taking her against her will across state lines.  

There was panic in his voice as he spoke.  We were scared and worried that Mommy was going to jail.

She didn't actually kidnap Chrissy and she had to prove this to the FBI.

Chrissy's parents had been looking for her the entire time that she went missing from her home.

We never saw or met her parents or the FBI.  I believe they had taken Mommy to the police station but we had no details until Doug came running into the room.

The story Doug told us was that Robin probably knew something and told her parents about Doug and the possibility that Chrissy was with him. 

I only knew what Doug told us.  Mommy was in a lot of trouble and Chrissy's parents could press charges and send her to jail.  That would be very bad for everybody and we did not need that to happen.

As much as we didn't want to be with Mommy, or lives would be disastrous without her. 

So according to Doug, Chrissy's parents made a deal with her and the FBI , to let her go and not press charges against her for kidnapping.

As long as Chrissy verified that she ran away from home on her own, the FBI had to agree and let Mommy go free as long as she returned to California with her children.  This was her big mistake and she had to face the fact that you can't run away from your problems and take someone else's child with you. 

Again we were to turn around and make our way back to California.

(I made a pit stop alone and will tell you  why in another story.)

Chrissy was back with her parents and we never saw her again.

Doug did not contact any of them again so I suppose he was sad in his own way and I never knew if he ever got over it. 

THE END 

Written by:  Heather Pasaphunthu

 

THE BART CAPER

The BART Caper

 The BART is the subway in San Francisco, California.  It travels to Millbrae in the South of the Peninsula; across the bay to Oakland, south to Fremont in the East Bay and north all the way to Concord. 

There are many BART stations around the Downtown area of San Francisco.  

I have mentioned in some of my stories about traveling from Florida to California in the early part of 1975.  For you new comers to my Blog this was my family's first time in San Francisco, so we were getting to know the city and while I was just a young thirteen year old girl and my family was poor and living on Welfare at the time; the only way to get cash money to ride the bus or train or the BART we had to look for change lost on the streets.

Welfare paid for the rent and electric but nothing more.  Food and only food was bought with food coupons.  Back in the Seventies food coupons came in a booklet like a ticket book and each coupon had a dollar amount such as a one, a five a ten or twenty.  Anything that was taxable could not be purchased.  Soda, beer, laundry detergent, all taxable.  we could only buy edible non-taxable food.

My brother, Doug liked to con people to get money and he was trying to teach me his trade.  I was a good girl and I was not going to do bad things and get into trouble because I knew better.

We hadn't been in San Francisco long and we walked everywhere.  We didn't have a telephone.  Everywhere we moved to we never had a telephone.

Doug and I hung out together for no other reason than company.

Doug was fearless and when we went places together he had ideas about finding ways to get money. 

One idea was to beg adults for change for the telephone so that he could call our mother to come and pick us up.  Another thing our mother didn't have was a car. Nor did she know how to drive.

Doug was fifteen and always expected me to follow his lead. 

One day we walked down to the BART station together.  Doug wanted me to try begging for a dime for the telephone.  I said, "No I can't do that.  It's wrong.  It's a lie."  We needed money but one dime was nothing. He said keep asking a lot of people and most of them will give you money out of pity.

I stood far back away just far enough to watch him in play.  H asked women for a dime to call his mother to come pick him up.  Each time he got a dime he would go over to the pay telephone to pretend to make the call.  When the woman was out of sight he put the dime in his pocket; then he would keep asking other people for money for a few more times and this was a way he was becoming a con man. 

I tried it once and was afraid and felt guilty. It worked but I didn't do it again.  I did not ask for money anymore, but one day when I was alone at the BART station I did something more daring than begging.

I knew there were lockers at the bus stations that people used to store some of their belongings in.  They used quarters to put into the coin slot to pay to get the key to use later to retrieve their belongings.

Since I knew about the lockers in the bus station I decided to head to the BART to the lockers there to possibly find a quarter of two because sometimes they get stuck in the coin slots.

This I decided to try without Doug.  I was very hesitant and really felt I would get caught and I needed to be seriously careful and watch my back. I already learned long ago how to be extra sneaky quiet and not seen from my experience in my earlier years of my childhood. (Thanks to my evil mother.) 

I spotted the lockers and slowly began checking the slots for loose , stuck or dangling quarters.  I made sure to glance around to see if anyone was coming or watching me.  

I was bending down close to the floor when I spotted a quarter that I thought I had a chance of getting out.  I had already retrieved one quarter from another locker and I almost had the second one when a sneaky man caught me off guard and yelled, "What do you think you're doing little girl?" 

As I turned around, I saw that he was a very large Security Guard.

I thought to myself, "Oh no! I'm in trouble and I had to get out of it fast."

"I'm trying to get my quarter out. It got stuck.", I said.  He said, " It looks like you were stealing it because I've been standing behind you watching you grabbing at it for a few minutes now."  I said, "No! it is my quarter and it got stuck."  

He tried to grab me and take me to the Security Guard counter.  I thought to myself; I have to get away, get out of this fast.  No Juvie for me.

He asked me my name.  I told him Sally Smith right off the top of my head.  He asked me where I lived. I said I don't know.  He asked me what's my phone number.  I said we don't have a phone.

As he turned his back on me to talk to the other Security Guard, I eyed the exit to the street which was directly in front of me and up the stairs.  

He was immersed in conversation with the other man so I took off running like hell and made a beehive for the door; dashed up the stairs and hit the streets running my little butt off down Powell street and disappeared onto the nearest bus home.  

No, I did not pay.  It was easy to hop onto any bus in San Francisco at that time by way of the back door and nobody could stop me because it was so overcrowded that the bus driver never had a clue.

The Security Guard never saw me again and I never did it again.

I never told anybody in my family at that time or to my husband or children. 

That was my first and last Caper told now in this Blog.

 

TO WET OR NOT TO WET

TO WET OR NOT TO WET

  It was the second home we rented when we moved from New York to Florida.

 We were trying to settle in a new home in Wanetta and I was only four years old going on five.  I had two brothers.  One was two years older and the other was a year younger.  I had seen my mother's boyfriend who I called Daddy wetting his hair when he combed it.  I didn't know why men wet their hair in the first place to comb it.  I didn't think about it or care. 

       

        One morning I was going into the bathroom and I saw my two brothers standing in front of the sink wetting their hair and combing it just as a grownup would do.  I asked them why they were wetting their hair and they said because we are boys and that's how we comb our hair.   I could not understand this action at all.  So I went to the sink and wet my hair too and began to comb it.   They said you can't do that you're a girl.   I argued with that fact.  I asked them what why can't I wet my hair and you can?  "You just can't.", they said.

I complained and answered by telling them that when I take a shower my hair is wet and then I comb it.  They still said it isn't the same thing.  You can't wet your hair like us and comb it because we are boys and that is what boys do.  I still came back with that doesn't make any sense if my hair is wet after a shower or if I wet it at the sink to get it combed.

They wanted to keep arguing with me about it but I stood my ground and I knew even at my age I had a valid point and I told them their explanation was stupid.  Well, I could not actually use those words because I didn't have such a vocabulary yet.  I did, however get them to think about what I said.  I knew that I made sense and they had to process my logic. 

I didn't let them get me down and they never stopped me from wetting my hair at the sink again, but I didn't do it unless I felt it was necessary.

I learned later in life that logic goes a long way when other people try to beat it and can't.

I wet because I proved to them that I could.  (A four year old with brilliant thoughts.)

 

 

          

   

FLINTSTONES vs. YMCA

 FLINTSTONES vs. YMCA 

We had made the big move all the way across the country from Florida to San Francisco, California.  There were the six of us including our mother.  My oldest sister, Jane was married and left the family by the time she was 18.

Our mother picked San Francisco to move to in hopes of marrying her new boyfriend she met through the Personal Ads in the newspaper.  That was a long distance relationship and the way some people met in those days. (Unlike the Internet of today's world.)

There were five of us siblings traveling by Greyhound bus for four days with our mother.

There was Elaine, Doug, Daniel, Timmy and myself.

Upon our first arrival in San Francisco we were all awestruck at the sights and newness of everything we had never experienced before.  Our mother grew up in New York, so she was used to a big city.  We came from a small town and a big city was overwhelming to us children.

We needed somewhere to stay and as soon as we left Florida we were homeless.

Back in 1975 I was a young teenager, so I was wanting to play and watch TV; especially cartoons.

At the bus station they had a small office called the Traveler's Aide Society.  My mother had heard of this organization so she inquired about possible assistance they may be able to provide.

They suggested we try the Catholic church and the Nuns might allow us to stay there a few days.

After a tiring, tedious, long walk up and down many hills and blocks we finally found the church.  We were allowed to stay only three days and we had to be out of there from 6 AM to 6 PM each day.  That meant we roamed the streets all day finding places to sit and eat if we could find anything at all because we didn't have money.

After staying the three days we were on the move again.

This time we ended up at the YMCA.  I couldn't imagine the six of us staying there with all of those men.

None of us were happy about it and we were mad at Mommy for bringing us there.  I was extremely angry about everything.

We had no idea how long we would be there. 

While we stayed at the YMCA we found the basement where there was only one TV and rows of chairs for anyone to sit on.

My siblings and I had to go to school so Mommy, somehow managed to enroll us in schools  according to our various ages and grades. 

I was in the Seventh Grade and had to take the city bus to school for the first time ever and I was very afraid of riding with all of the strange people and the crowdedness because I often got bumped into and my feet stepped on.

We got back to the YMCA just in time for The Flintstones to come on TV at four o'clock in the afternoon. 

Doug, Elaine, Daniel and I ran downstairs to the basement to watch TV.  I was not happy when we arrived and found the room full of ugly, old men.  To me all men were old and most of them looked ugly. Many of them were already sitting and watching the news.  (In today's world...OMG!)

The Flintstones were coming on and I wanted to watch The Flintstones.  I stood up to walk to the TV to change the channel.  Before I could move, Doug stopped me and told me to sit down.

He said, "Heather, there are other people in this room and you can't change the channel just because you want to."

That was only the first day so I let them watch the news.  I left the room and went back upstairs to Mommy to complain to her about it.

I'm not quite sure how long we stayed there. 

Every day that we were there we all went down to the basement to watch TV.  Mommy even joined us sometimes.  Timmy didn't go to school yet so she took care of him all day.

I was getting very upset about not being able to watch The Flintstones at all.  One day I snapped!

We went to the basement as usual and of course all the men were watching the news. (Again, in today's times , this is bullshit!)

I wasn't going to let them have their way.  I told Doug, "I'm going up there and changing the channel." "I'm not going to let anyone stop me."

Doug told me to "Shut up, and sit down!  You can't make them change the channel just for you."

I went to the TV.  I changed the channel and a man changed it back.  I changed it again and he changed it back.  This went on for a while.

I yelled, " I want to watch The Flintstones and I am not letting anybody watch the news.  I have a right to watch The Flintstones and you can't stop me!"

Doug tried to get me to sit down.  "Sit down Heather!", he yelled at me over and over again and again.  "I won't sit down.  I'm watching The Flintstones.  It's my turn.", I kept yelling back at him.

The man groaned and gave up and allowed me to change the channel.  Most of the other men were angry; left the room and wanted me to leave.

I was yelling at them all with great determination.  I was going to get my way.  They could all shut up!

In the end, I won and so did The Flintstones.