And So:::

My birth father visited me while I was living in Nevada. I remember some of it.
 I remember we went to the pool a lot. And I remember we stayed int eh Frontier Hotel, which is not there on the strip anymore. I should say Las Vegas is nothing like it was in the 1970's but, I will say the Flamingo hotel was there, and it still is there.
  I remember we stayed maybe two nights with him. It was the third time in my life I saw him, Fourth if you count that time he walked right on by us in the Neil Diamond Concert in Salt Lake City.
 I have pictures of that time. I do not have many with him. But, I will say that I have these pictures and the more I am going through this human experience the more I appreciate the pictures.
I did have a favorite doughnut. It was a Hostess Raspberry Filled. You know the kind with the powered sugar covering it and a sort of cake doughnut with a raspberry filling. I loved those but because we did not have a lot of money, mom did not buy them often. maybe once a year or less. But how I loved them.
Daddy asked me and my sister what we wanted for breakfast, and I said that with chocolate milk, and D said she wanted Hostess Old Fashioned Doughnuts, which was her favorite. He replied with, I am going to go get them, you girls wait here. I do not know what time that was, but it was night and we had spend the evening in the Circus Circus playing all the games and after a long walk on The Strip. We had spent the day swimming the pool and so, I was ready for bed. I woke up the next morning with my dad gone and my sister in the bathroom. He came back while we waited. He did not have doughnuts. We went to JB's Big Boy, and ate pancakes. But I really wanted doughnuts.
  My dad left that fast. As fast as he came, he was gone. I thought I was going to see him again soon.
We always think that things will be the way we want them when we are young and are promised so many things.

But, Wait!

There is MORE! 

  My Third Grade year was a little rough, I guess. I did not realize it until  I looked back three moves in one school year. Let me explain. 

  My mom and dad and us living in the house my dad had, well, things did not always work the way we wanted and my mom packed us girls up and we moved to Las Vegas, sans dad. 

  I remember packing up my room and thinking... Dang, that was an awesome room. I was really sad. It seemed like we left really fast and it was about March or April. My new teacher in E. W. Griffith Elementary was actually really really nice. She was from Australia. Our room was decorated with Pictures of Kangaroos and Koalas you know, our room had an "Outback" theme to it. She was shorter than me, almost, which means she was shorter than 5'4". Yep you got it right. I was TALL. (For all my European or non- American readers, that is 1.62 meters, yes I had to find a converter because I do not know the metric system) 

  Anyway, I had a couple of friends. One friend of mine was Mexican. She seemed really nice. I was invited to her home for a birthday party. I was really excited to go. I bought her a present, and there was all kinds of music and it was a pool party. So, we were told to bring our swim suits. Of course her mom made Enchiladas and we had chips and salsa, it was fun. All the kids in the class came. The girls were to have a sleep over that evening when the boys left at 9:00 pm. All the girls were to go put their swim suits on and the boys too. I went in the bathroom and put mine on. We came out and for some reason, her mother spoke in Spanish about me pointed and me and was really really upset that I was there. To the point that Her mom told me I could not eat at the birthday. I do not know why, I look back and think that this woman had a big problem with white people, because once I thought about it, again. my sisters and I were the only white kids in a neighborhood with many many Blacks and Mexicans. There were three black girls that were nice to me and they laughed when I asked them if they were from Fiji, because I first thought they were from Fiji. They said... Fiji? WHAT IS THAT? So, We laughed and played on the play ground. But I was never invited over to anyone's house. I invited girls to come over all the time, but they always declined. My uncle T moved eventually down the street and around the corner from us and so I would go to my cousins house all the time. 

 My aunts I had two, One R and one named R were also home and my aunt and I shared a room with my older sister and my Guinea Pig. 

 My Grandpa frequently told me, "It is a good thing you are so beautiful because you sure are a brat". My mom would tell him that that was mean and to never say that to my me. My uncles would play the guitar and they were always so nice to have around. I had one uncle who had went on an L.D.S. Mission to Idaho. This is where he met my  aunt and after his Mission he went back to get to know her as a normal kid off his Mission. He married her. My second Uncle,S went on a Mission to Spain. I believe he was in the Madrid area. He might have not been married but barely coming back from his Mission and my third uncle went on a Mission to Sacramento, California. This was most fortuitous. I say this because the Mission covered a lot of Northern California and at the time my Aunt who lived with us in California was living there with her son, and she was not always there. Her son ended up having to be cared for by her ex-husband, his father, who was not a really nice guy and I would even go far as to say he was a drunk. So, my uncle would be able to drop in on him if he was in the area. This area is a small town called Gridley, California.  That city is also the birth place of my own mother. 

  So, my uncle, Ray, was getting off his Mission while my fourth uncle and last uncle was going on a Mission to Indiana. My grandpa worked hard as did my grandma. They worked as gardeners for a man that is very famous in the Vegas area, who would sing live and do Vegas Shows on the Strip while people watched and ate dinner. The Strip in those days ended at "The Frontier Hotel" and further down teh street was "The Flamingo" which is still famous and one of the few that did not get the axe when reconstructing the Strip to what is is today. 

My mom found a job working as an on call babysitter. This means that she qualified for a babysitting license in the State of Nevada and she would work for hotels being a babysitter for people that wanted to come to Vegas to gamble, and needed a babysitter. My mom also got accepted to UNLV. In the Psychology Department. My mom had a teacher in Hawaii she just adored. This Professor of hers renewed her love to study the English Language, and Poetry. But om wanted to be a Child Psychologist or something along those lines. 

 Mom worked her tail off supporting us kids and worked lots of hours. She studied hard and went to school and worked. Us kids were with her family and it was nice for us to all be together. I would sometimes got ot work with Grandma and Grandpa at the house that they were Gardeners for. The famous person that they worked for was really nice and let me play in the swimming pool. He said he sang and so I would ask him to sing me a song. He would sing me a song and I would say... You should sing this song, I mean... Everyone knows it because it is on the radio" he would laugh and say "touché babe". I look back at those conversations and think... Why did I not appreciate this man singing to me? DAAAANG!!! And I think ı might have a picture of me with him tucked away somewhere. but, you know, I was not raised to be that way. I was raised that everyone is normal. That Fame is nothing if you are not a good kind person. I was taught that really it all comes down to is we are all people. That his fame was a job, but really in the whole grand scheme of things, it is what YOU are... Not your occupation. So, I did not understand at the time who he really was. Now, I think... Wow... I was raised to not think of it as a big deal. Mind you he was not always home, but, from time to time he was there. He had a big beautiful house but no one home to share it with. That to me struck me as sad. I would ask him that, if he was lonely. He would smile and tell me to go enjoy his pool. I did. It was so hot in Las Vegas, I loved swimming in the pool. He had a couple of horses, a Loganberry Tree, hardly any neighbors for miles, lots of land and my grandparents were really good at caring for it. My Grandpa built him a shed or two, a nice garage, made his fence surrounding his property, did all kinds of work on his property. My Grandma made him dinners and cleaned his house. My grandma for a gift for him being so kind made him a quilt too. Grandpa took care of his animals. They worked hard for this man and he was a good employee. 

  I think it was a great Summer that year. I look back fondly. 

(Looking for a picture to stick here... Sigh... I lost a file somewhere. My pictures need to be filed better)

  

Do you believe in Hauntings?

I do not know if I do or not. I do not know what to believe sometimes. But, I will say this. What I experienced in that house and what my family did, was real. And I am not exaggerating. I can not lie. And I would be a good Novelist, however, these are true life human experiences that I had, mixed in with different people and things only to protect the identity of those who are living. Especially my mom because she is a very private person. And Me because my mom would be mortified if she knew I was writing these. My mom would think I am finding fault with her and I have said time and time again, my mom is awesome and amazing and I love her. I do not have anything bad to say or think of her. My mom is a doll and my dearest protector. My mom sometimes forgets many things I remember. My dad seems to think my memories of certain events are fictitious and that through out time being an adult, my memory has become just a great story. But, I say, I remember many many things that detail can not make up.  And there are somethings that my mind has chosen to forget. For example. Mrs Widow Stanley. This point in my life, I have forgotten her. But, there in this home lies something very sinister. Dark Shadows. This I can not explain. Let me tell you what happened to me in this home

The first couple of days we moved in, things were hazy for me. You know, boxes, the smell of fresh paint, new beds, old familiar things mixed in with new things. 

 I wanted to explore the house. I felt that there was more than I knew about it. My pet Guinea Pig was furry and a baby still and white. All white. I assumed because she had pink eyes she was a she. My mom was kind about her but really, my mom in retrospect hated anything but Bunnies. Looking back, If I had a bunny with long floppy ears and white with black eyes or brown eyes and furry and floppy my mom would have held the bunny. But Guinea Pigs to her were tail-less rats. And mine squeaked. Which my mom I think she tried and tried to think it was cute. But, remembering her face, I think after wards when trying to hold her, she would shutter. I am smiling right now because my mom hated me having her but was happy to see me with a pet whom I loved. Valentine had a cage. When she was tiny tiny, she did not know that a box could be eaten through. But, The first night I was there, she had eaten a hole in her box, and dad and mom realized I needed something metal to hold my Guinea Pig. We went to the store after school and found a bigger type cage because we did not know how big Valentine would get. we got the biggest Rabbit cage we could find and Dad said if she grows bigger than that, we will have a problem. The cage was so big, I remember thinking my little impish sister could fit in it. I would have tried if I did not get in huge trouble. Mom was very protective of her and getting more so. It seemed the older my little got, the more mean she got, and the more her and I fought. My older sister and I would try to include her in our secrets or games, but things always went awry  when we planned to make amiable games or time with her. In this home, however, my little sister was scared. I mean scared. I thought at first that she was not used to having her own room. She never had in her life before. Danae did, from time to time, but I shared with Chimera all the other times. Chimera was now in Second Grade, and I was in Third. I was nine years old and Chimera was still seven, but turning eight. She started getting night terrors and honestly she had them in the past, but not like these. Mom would try to consul her and they were horrible. However, she had a hard time explaining the dreams too. They were just horrible dreams. Danae allowed her to sleep in her room with her, and sometimes when Danae would be at a friends for the night, she would come into my bed with me and sleep. 

  Every night with out fail, my Guinea Pig would be on my bed. Guinea Pigs do not climb and are more burrowers. I would out my Guinea back in her cage. Lock the cage and she would be out again.  

That was the first strange thing. 

  The next strange thing was my closet. 

Chimera was always afraid of closets at night, and I thought she was joking when she said my closet was creepy to her. Even to the point that she would laugh and laugh and I thought she was playing an impish joke with me. 

 One day I was up stairs in my room alone. I saw a door in the back of my closet. I was curious as to where it went and what it was for. I never saw a door in the back of my closet. I cleaned my room eery other day, got dressed, even organized my closet every Saturday, but how that door never came to my attention before I never understood . I asked my aunt (my uncle's wife) about the door. "There is a door? I did not know there was one."  My uncle Tim did not know either. He was the one that remodeled the home.

I dreamed that night that all of the upper house was in shambles. The Oak wood that was our home flooring was gray and full of rot. I do not remember much of the dream, but I woke up and went to the window. It was rainy outside and as I looked out the window there was a light on the ground. the whole out ofdoors was black as black as ebony yet the light was white, a transparent white. I kept looking at it and the light got a little bigger, and floated up to my window and in the light was a creature. It was scary. I thought it looked like an old woman but I can not say. I ran back to my bed. Again, Valentine was on my bed. How she got there, still I have no idea. I put her back in her cage and locked the cage, and laid under my covers, looking at my closet, and the door that was in the back of the closet was opened. I turned over to my left side and hid deeper in my covers. I was just "fracking" scared. I fell asleep again. Chimera came in my room a couple hours later. She kept kicking Danae and Danae had enough. I was too scared to turn her away and so she slept with me. But was not allowed to touch me with her feet. 

The next day I told my mom about my dream and about everything that I saw. My mom said it was all a bad dream. 

 It was a day where there was no school because I wanted to do some more looking around. I asked m y aunt what was down stairs. In the basement. She was in the kitchen. She needed to get something down there anyway and told me to see for myself. I did. It was about noon time and my Aunt Maren was making Spaghetti and she always canned fruits and vegetables. She wanted some tomatoes which she stored in the cellar and asked me to have a look down stairs and while coming back up to please bring her some tomatoes on the shelf. I obliged and went to the cellar. the stairs to the cellar were wide. Unlike David's mom's cellar that was outside and a hole dug in the ground and scary and creepy this one was inside a house. the stairs were concrete and covered with marble and leading to a basement with pillars that supported the house. All of it had some windows, rectangles that were longer than wider, and so there was day light that would come through, and there were lights down there. Although that day they did not work. No matter I thought, because it was sunny outside and I could still see pretty well. As I got to the bottom of the stairs, rats were all over. They were on the shelves, on the floor crawling all over the walls and they were all over the support columns. They were on the shelves that I had to get to to get the tomatoes and on the floor near the shelves was a dead something. I saw teeth, I saw it was rotting dead, I smelled a strange stench and it was freezing cold down there. I screamed and ran upstairs. 

 To let you all know, I had a speech impediment. I stuttered and stammered horribly.  I could pronounce my letters by the time I was 6, I could read and write beautifully, I could talk but my tongue was just not allowing me to say it as fast as I wanted to nor as fast as I was thinking. I stuttered quite badly. It took me a long time to say what I needed to say. When I ran up those steps screaming all I could spit out was "r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-RATS" My mom was not home, she was going to school. My uncle was at school too. My dad was at work but all us kids and Aunt Maren were home. Aunt Maren KNEW and believed me that there was something terrifying down there and she ran down there. The light worked and nothing was there. Nothing. It was clean, with rows and rows of shelves and a cool cellar for storing our food. But she believed me because she knew the house like I did. 

  My mom and dad were not unbelievers of the house, I think that my mom did not want me scared. My mom has this perpetual positive way of thinking which is a good quality in one, however, she perpetual positive thinking left little room to believe that I saw what I saw. My mom's conclusion was that I told too many ghost stories and that I was letting my imagination go wild. My dad's was too. My dad being in the line of work he was in, thought it was my imagination mixed with stress of a marriage, a new family life and moving twice in one year that made it more stressful for me and so I had a more vivid imagination than my sisters.

  My dad has a son that is close to my age. He would come and visit us on the weekends. We enjoyed him coming. My dad went however this time to go visit him for the weekend and it was on this weekend that something more terrifying happened to me. Again, mom was gone, but maybe either studying in the library and grocery shopping while Aunt Maren again was home but this day my uncle Tim was home. and same with my little sister and baby cousins.  I was in my room again. This time, I was playing with my sister, Chimera. She always seemed braver than I in the day time, and at night she was scared. I was opposite. In this house, at least. We were in my room playing with records on my Mickey Mouse Record player when the door to my closet opened. "Chimera," I said, "Look! I told you I have a door. You did not believe me". 

"Oh heck, what is in thewe, Dee?" "I don't know. Want to come with? I don't want to go alone". 

 "But, why I didn't see it befowe" (Chimera could not pronounce her "R" sound.) "Awe you scawed? I am not." "Then, come with. We will go together" "You go fiwst. It is youw woom." "OK."I took two steps in and she slammed the door behind me laughing. I tried the door, but it felt locked. She locked the door? She was laughing but it was a strange laugh. It was deep. It sounded mean, too. "Let me out" I was stuttering. Badly. Her joke went terribly awry. According to her, she was going to come in with me, but thought it would be funny to try to scare me and she closed the door. She intended to reopen the door, but, it would not open. It took me years to believe that she was intending to come in in the first place. And, yet the strange part is this:  I screamed and yelled and shouted, but no one heard me. And when I was finally let out of the room, my uncle had to use a sledge hammer and  saw and knock out and cut the wall of my closet, because there was no door. The room was about 10 feet by 10 feet and just like in my dream. Everything was gray. There was a candle stick on a small what appeared to be a bed side table. And a window. The window was the same size as mine in my room. It was covered though, or not a lot of light came from it. It was as though this was sealed up a long time ago. 

  By the time my uncle got me out, there was a hole in my closet the size of me to squeeze out of and as soon as I came out of the room both my aunt and uncle engulfed me in their arms. I felt safe. My uncle that night, before I went to bed, patched the hole in my closet and said my room closet will never ever open again. He was right. It did not. Chimera could have never known what was going to happen. And what she saw when I was in the room I do not know, and she does not remember this incident, but, According to my aunt years later, when we talked about it, she did not hear me. I did not come down for dinner and she looked all over for me before Chimera said anything about the door. My aunt felt that she should have gotten in trouble for hiding the fact that I was engulfed in an attic, with out the possibility of escape and she knew it but refused to say anything. Whether she wanted me in there, thought it was a game or was scared that she would get in trouble, I will not know. But, a normal reaction of a child who sees their sister in distress is to run for help. Chimera never did. But then again, Chimera was not a normal child, and this house was not a normal house. 

Years later when I was about 22 or 23 I spend a week with my aunt in Nevada. Far away in time and place from the home. I told her all I remembered. She told me little, but sat and listened and said, "That house was evil, Deej, pure evil." She said that once while she was home alone as my uncle had to work a night shift, she heard something in the Formal Sitting Room. We had long moved out of the house. She said that she heard her silverware clanging. She thought maybe my uncle came home from work early. The house was quiet, but that. She said that she got up to investigate and when she did, her sliver knives were flying (or thrown) towards her and she ducked and ran into her kids room to see if they were OK. She said there were many many scary bad things that happened in that house, spirits hoovering over my cousins, and they were not able to sleep. I said to her that my mom kept telling me that my experiences in that home were only a bad dream. She smiled and said, "Yes, that sounds like your mother".  My mom never believed me nor my aunt, and my sister Danae has no memory of our childhood. I think she would assume forget somethings. I would like to know what she does remember, just for fun sake. I know she has since visited the home because now it is a Museum, and is on the registry of Historical Homes. I understand the haunting(s) stopped, or rather, they did not follow my aunt and uncle and their family. So, I think it is located in just that home.

Maybe some of it were in my dreams, but there are some things that you just can not invent. I did not invent those memories of that home. Sadly, we moved. Although I found the home rather scary, I still liked it. It was an old Victorian style, and I thought it was a pretty home. But, we moved. And with that came another new part in our lives. 

This is not my picture. It is from the webpage: whatliesbeyond4you taken by Chris Matheny.

  

Something Different

Last time I wrote, I had shared some things about my schooling in Logan. I did like it there. However, it was different for me and I had not a lot of friends. I did have a couple as I remember having them, but I can not recall their faces. Only hair. And I do recall my teacher. For I hated Math but loved reading. 

 My dad's mother, Grandpa Andrews, lived in Logan. Just down the street from us.

 He had lived in Logan all his life and my Grandma had worked in the small city. In those days everyone knew everyone else and Cache County was known for it's farming. Cheese was produced here and still is and is known all over the Western States for it's production of Cheddar Cheese. The Color comes from a plant in South America that gives it the rich orange color. Many people do not know that. 

  When Grandpa Andrews died, he left his property to his daughter, my dad's mother. (this is to protect the identity of what is true or false or exaggerated or not... As I do not wish to divulge too much about me... OR maybe I do? Not many of you read this anyway.)

My father was given this property and we decided to move into it. 

 My father had decided to ask my mom's brother who was going to USU, to fix up the house with us. He, his wife and two children lived in the bottom half of the house while we took the upper living quarters. 

The house had a big lot. The house was huge, one of the first mansions in Logan, and on this lot sat two houses. A North house was a 1923 bungalow style that Grandpa Andrews lived in with his family, and to the South of his house (which faced North) was our house that faced East and behind us was a rather large patch of dry and hardened dirt that was intended for a parkway for our cars. It was a rather large one. 

 All of this and 80 Acres in Logan Canyon belonged to my new dad. 

I went to see the house with my dad, mom and uncle for the first time. It was a mess. The outside of the house was boarded up and had been untouched, the lawn was untouched too, except for a once a week weed whacking or lawn mowing. That was the easy part. Inside was project after project. Whiskey, and beer bottles everywhere, graffiti, and years of neglect had made the once mansion a big big shell. 

a few weeks later, and to my shock I could not tell it was the same home. As I walked in the front door, I noticed the Formal Salon was no longer a wreckage of  unwanted trash by squatters throughout the years. It was in fact, a beautiful Formal Sitting room. To the left of the entrance was a living room that was neatly furnished and there were two bedrooms and a bathroom that were probably used as servant living quarters in the days this home was built (probably circa 1874-1876) Beyond the living room were French Doors that lead to a Kitchen and that had been modernized and gutted into a really pretty Kitchen. There were stairs and a landing going to the basement and up the stairs. to the right of the Kitchen before the stairs was another hallway that lead to a couple ore bedrooms and another bathroom.

I ran up the stairs with my older sister and we both chose our bedrooms, that was easy. She chose the first bedroom on the top  of the stairs. It was the biggest with two windows. One facing East and the other facing south. Chimra chose the second biggest bedroom in the Middle with two windows facing the south and I chose the last smallest bedroom with one window facing south. My bedroom had a nice closet and hardwood floors and an old rocking chair. It had a couple of old fashioned shelves and a bed that looked like the Quakers built it.  My mom must have found some really pretty handmade quilts from somewhere or had them or something. I loved my room. My bed was small but it suited me. It was a twin. 

My older sister and I were given dolls from our Great Grandma who was Native American. The dolls were not playing dolls but were a long time before. They were made of leather with real black hair, skirts of bright velvet and beads glass beads for necklaces. They had beaded moccasins for shoes and I proudly displayed my doll on my bed, as did Danae, even though Danae hated dolls she really liked her "Indian Doll".  Chimra tried to tear up her doll and so mom gave Chimera's doll to me because I took care of my things, and my dolls. I also had my "Official Muppet Show Fan Club" paraphernalia out proudly so all could see it. Dad would not let me put posters on walls so mom found a good compromise. Mom framed my posters like they were real pictures. I loved it. I had a record player in my room that was a Mickey Mouse record player. The hand had the needle, and when I wanted to play 45's, I could by pulling up the white tab in the middle  of the round about. Mom bought me a Guinea Pig. I named her Valentine. She went in my room and I cleaned her cage every other day and did not even have to buy a lot of saw dust now that uncle was making our house pretty. We loved our new house.

 Little did we know the terrors that awaited us in this house of wonderment, enchantment and our antique mansion of mystery.  

This is not the house I lived in although my Great Grandmother on my Step- Grandmother's side was indeed an Eccles and did indeed grow up in this very house. For this reason I posted this house and not the one that in fact is still standing in Logan, near this home. However, It does have somewhat the same flair as the Eccles Mansion...

Now Comes New

My new dad, and mom needed to go live in Logan and so us three girls went with.
 We lived in a house that was a bungalow style. It was three bedrooms and there were two downstairs but we rented them out to renters as there was a full basement. I had to share with my younger sister Chimera. She was annoying to share with. She had a bed wetting problem and she would insist on sleeping on the top bunk. Need I say more? There was a small school we attended called Ellis. The school was nice enough. I made a couple of friends. I was in the Third Grade. My problem was not kids. It was Math. I was so bad at Math and I tried and tried but it was the late 1970's and in those days, the teachers sat in front of you, told you what the world was like and you did homework and that was that. I wanted to be an astronaut. I wanted to fly. I recall I would draw a lot and they were always flying things. I would draw cars that flew. I day dreamed a lot too. I did not want to be there. I was always reading about far away places and people and my mind was always off in another place. Especially when it came to Math Time in the class room. I was determined to try to do just enough Math to get good grades. My reading was outstanding. Where I failed in Math was given to me a thousand fold in reading and comprehension skills. Why the Education Gods did not want me to learn Math, would be forever a mystery for me. And a struggle. I would have to separate from the class during reading and I would be put in front of this big screen and the film would start, revealing a word at a time. There would be a story we would have to read, and the sentence would come up but depending on how fast the teacher put up the speed of the words coming on the screen, I would have to read them. Then, after, a series of questions and then the next story. I was so bored. The stories were ok but reading was so slow. I would tell the teacher how boring it was, and I would end up  wanting to do other things. Sharing with someone in class was torture for me too.
  It was not because I did not like to share, I was a really nice kid. I just hated sharing with other kids because I did not want germs touching me. I loved and hated school. One thing I hated was the fact that it was so dirty and I would think... I am going to get a disease and die here in the school and no one will notice it is from all these germs. I cleaned out my desk and cleaned the top of my desk every day. One day, because it was so cold outside, and Logan is far more cold than Provo, I asked the teacher if I would be able to stay inside recess and clean the table tops. She liked that and I did. Then after, I sat at my desk and read "Johnny Tremain" a story about a boy who helped Paul Revere in the Revolution. Sometimes I read encyclopedias and other times I was forced to go outside and try to play with my friends.
 There was one girl I quite liked. She was really a nice girl named L But, we did not keep in touch.
My older sister had many friends. One day she was walking home from seeing her friends when a guy started following her and when she walked faster, so did he. She did not make it quite home when she ran to the steps of a strangers house and knocked on teh door and went inside. She came home a little late and told my mom about it. My sister did not get a good description of the man, she was in the 5th grade and really scared.
About two weeks later, I was walking home. I too had a similar experience only, I ran and I stopped running and he kept his distance behind me but again, he was there. I could not see his face, also, but I could see he was wearing thick rimmed eye glasses and he had a long black coat. He wore a hat, like a business hat. I came upon a house but the lady was in my mom's ward. I did not have to go into strangers house, like my sister. I called mom. She came in a car to get me. we drove up and down a couple of streets to find him and could not but we did call the police. After that mom or dad drove us to school.
 I was teased a lot in school for being so tall. My fellow students said really cruel things to me especially the boys. So, a couple of days before my birthday, I decided to knock down those boys in a battle of "King of the Hill" I am not sure if anyone is aware of how to play but the rules are simple and the game is too. The snow that is packed at one side of a play ground to clear for children to play is the object of the game. Getting to the top of  of the mound of snow and pushing off everyone that comes to the top is your goal, to be King. Now, I thought I made this game up because once I was standing on the snow mount and some smaller boys came up to my friend and I. Tired of them bullying me and my friend, when they came up and were once again being rude, I shoved them off the hill and I said I was King of the Hill and it was mine and to back off. Of course that got more kids thinking how cool a game. I did not know it would be such a hit, but it was. My friend and I wanted to keep the Hill as Ours and on this day, the battle was fierce. The Battle was tough. I was wearing a new silk shirt my mom bought me. I looked so pretty that day. I had forgotten to wear pants. What can I say, I was Tomboy sometimes and other times I was a girly- girl. I wore a wool brown skirt with brown thick tights and a cream silk and light blue shirt and I made my hair pretty. I wore brown boots and my orange and brown coat and went to school. Playing King of the hill was hard in a skirt. I got to the top of the snow Hill which was packed snow and smooth. It had become ice. I fell at the top and hit my chin on the packed snow.  My jaw was swollen for three weeks and I was in so much pain. I fell so hard that I had a black eye from the fall. The next day was picture day and my birthday. The rest of the day I was in pain and I did not call home but I did just lay my head on the desk. My mom saw my chin and gasped, "What Happened???" I told her about how I was trying to throw the boys off the hill with bonnie and how we were playing King of The Hill. My mom did not appreciate games and power and the need to be the King of the Hill like I did. she did not understand it at all. As I look back, I even think she said something about how I should not ever even be on the hill in the first place. And went as far as saying I should just do something else. I was so shocked. I was not going to give up my power of the Hill. That Hill was mine. Those boys had no right to it and I made up the game. (Well, That was in my mind, and sadly, Mom disagreed)
 The next day, I got a picture taken. Swollen Jaw, scratches and all.

Sadly, The actual photo I have of that day is not with me right now. This was taken a year later.

The Summer Before Third Grade

My mom had been trying to get into Wymount Terrace Apartments. We had been on a waiting list, and well, Mom was going to marry that Coach from Snow College? Well, She backed out of the marriage and just a couple weeks before going to marry. So, we were in an apartment for a very short time in Roman Gardens. Mom met a guy living in King Henry. Mom eloped when we moved to Wymount and when we came back from Vacation, they were married. This was a shock to me and my sisters. Mom has a different memory of her elopement and somehow thinks us girl were involved with the eloping bit, but that is what happened. Eloping means going off and getting married without anyone knowing, and so mom did that. But, you can talk to her and get a different story if you please. D says "Mom remember the time you sent us to Disneyland so you can take off and get married behind our backs?" but for some reason she never got in trouble for saying it that way. I get reprimanded when I say anything about it. So, I don't. Not to mom anyway.

Now, it is not a big deal. As a matter of fact, I quite love the guy. Back then though, I thought why is my mom marrying him? 

 I tried running away, on my bike, but got as far as 1250 North when my new dad pulled me over and caught me and I told an elderly couple I was being kidnapped. That, looking back was so bad. But, a the time I thought this guy was stealing my mom. 

 Well, the couple did not know what do to, and eventually I went home with my new dad. 

 We moved out and into King Henry for a couple of months until my dad could find a place. 

We moved to Logan where my dad decided to teach. Logan and USU was good, and it was a nice place to live, but I tell you, I missed my dear friend, Heather. 

My mom would allow me to go on a Gray Hound bus to Provo, from time to time to visit my dear friend. 

But, it was a hard time for all of us.

The Wrap Up

  Still in Second grade, there were something that I distinctly recall in my memory that I have to add. 
  First was that the Christmas of that year, Christmas 1977, I went with my mom and sisters to Colorado in the mountains, near Hotchkiss in the  Colorado Rockies. I loved going there. It was fun. My grandpa lived here a little while before he moved to La Sal. My grandpa had lived in the region for about 12 years, as he had moved from Alaska after my mom graduated from High School. 
  I got a bike that year from Santa Claus. It was purple Schwinn with a white long banana seat. What happened to the pictures of me on the bike, I do not know but, I wish I had them.
 We bought our milk from the Kiltcher Family. They had moved to Payson and Atz was running a boy's Ranch there for a while. He was teaching the kids how to work in the Horse Ranch and staying off drugs. We would buy our fresh milk from them. We would see them from time to time. 
   I got baptized when I was 8 years old and in the Second Grade. My Grandpa was not there at my Baptism. I really wanted him and my uncles and aunts there. Alas, they did not come. 
  My mom hired a 6th Grader boy to baby sit us for two hours, but D, being smarter and better babysitter than he, and only in Third grade, fired him and sent him home. 
 I was playing on the Merri - Go- Round when I fell off and skidded and was dragged under it. When the kids finally stopped, and realized I was under it, I was somewhat stuck, so they did not move me until my mom came and helped me out. I was badly bruised and no broken bones, but my om had to take me to the ER to make sure that there was nothing wrong with me
 I mentioned Charlie before when we lived in California. He came to visit us for a little while and that was the last I saw of him. 
  Also, mom was dating a guy from Ephriam, Utah. He was the Basket Ball coach for Snow College, so we would go visit him from time to time. He had three older sons. We would laugh of the thought of our parents marry-ing... Just like the Brady Bunch. 
    I was a bear in a play, an adaptation to The Jungle Book. My mom watched every single one of the performances. 
 I took tap and ballet classes with Heather. We had a blast dancing. 
That about wraps up the Second Grade
 

My Sister, The Magician

D,as I have mentioned earlier, was 18 months older than me, but it seemed she was about 15 years older than myself in many other areas. She was my protector, she was my older wiser version of me and when my mom could not talk sense into me, D could say it in terms that made sense to me. Sometimes, she was more strict than mom. Other times she was more like a best friend and I would forget she was my sister. Wow, How I idolized her. I seriously thought of her as my hero. I adored her and she loved me very much, too. She knew how I felt before anything was said. She was going through the same thing as I, but for some reason, I was more little girl-ish on some things, and I still am. And she is always still more logical and rational than myself.

 Well, why would I talk about her now? One day, mom had to get milk at the store and D and I did not want Chimera with us, and so mom took Chimera. It was D and I alone for about 15 minutes, We lived in the Basement apartment of the Kilchers. I got scared, and to distract me, D did a dime trick. She told me she was a magician. She told me she could make the dime disappear. She did. By swallowing it and chocking on it. My mom walked in right as she swallowed it, and started chocking. I thought it was disgusting and gross when she ran the bathroom and threw it up, but then asked her if she could make any other money disappear and throw it up. 

 I was easily entertained. My mom however, did not let D entertain me like that again. So, I have that one time to relish. My sister now is a magician still. She makes all my sadness go away when I visit her. I love her with all my heart. Isn't that how sisters are supposed to be?

Before I Continue...

I must add something I had not mentioned before.
 I am kind of accident pronged. I do not try to be and as a matter of fact am a very cautious person, but sadly, accidents seem to follow  me from time to time. I will tell you a few I can remember before the age of 8.
Apart from the  cuts and bruises that normal kids go through, I, with my sisters living in the basement apartment of the Kilcher's home in Sugarhouse was told by Atz to not lock (our basement) bathroom door. The door was quite quite old and required a skeleton key, and I am sure looking back that we did not have a key to open the door. He would tell us girls that a lot. One day, I was playing with Shane's Little Tykes tool kit, there was a plastic bolt in the kit. We were playing around when I put the plastic bolt on my finger as a ring. I screwed it down tight, not thinking much about it when a few minutes later, I could not get it off. So, what is a normal three year old to do when she can not get a plastic ring that is really a bolt on her finger to do but to lock herself in the bathroom she was told to not lock and go pee (because in really bad situations my adrenaline gets going, I have to pee) and, try to get off the bolt from my finger with water? And so that is exactly what I did! I locked myself in the bathroom and  then realized I could not get out. I also realized that I was in trouble with my finger stuck in the bolt because it was turning dark red and was starting to hurt. So, I did what any normal 3-4 year old would do... I sat for a while because I thought, "Wonder Woman can open the door, I am sure I can too" (I was certain I was Wonder Woman, the comic heroine. I loved her.) So, I could not open it. I waited until my finger was purple, then it started to hurt, so I started to scream. Well,  no one heard me for a while and my mom came and asked me what happened. I told her everything and she asked me why I locked the door. I said because I thought I could open it. At first I did not want her to get Atz, because I knew Atz would not be happy with me, but finally Atz opened the door and got the bolt off with a lot of soap and lotion and then he asked me if my finger was fine. When I said yes, he lectured me on not listening to  safety rules, but then he hugged me and my mom did too.
  That same house and a few weeks later, I was playing outside with my barbie and doll when I saw a cat come to me. This cat was a stray cat, from what I knew and my mom had told me to not go near stray cats because they can hurt you.
My mom was making Flour Tortilla Quesadillas. It was around 5:30 pm because it was close to dinner time. I was petting the cat when I thought, I could give her milk. Well, she turned around to go when I pulled her tail to bring her back to me, she turned around and bit me and bit me hard! to literally took a chunk out of my arm. To the bone. She did some scratching too. At first I was not bleeding. I was a little freaked out so I screamed to my mom and mom came running up the stairs and ran in the drive way where I was. She looked at my arm and I said a cat bit me. She ran and grabbed paper towels and told D and Chimera to run upstairs to the Kilchers. Well, Nedra was home but Atz was still at work or something so mom had to take me to the ER and I got stitches. Not only did I get stitches but it was a harrowing experience for me because I hate needles. Well, I had to get a few shots, to make sure there was no infectious diseases the cat could have given me. The Doctor had to get one Doctor to hold down one leg, another for the other leg. I needed one for my arm, and one for my other arm. Sadly, I saw what the 5th Doctor was doing, in his glasses, I could see him stitching me up and I saw screaming "You're sewing me up!" so he had to bring my mom to come in the room and hold my face and cover my eyes with her hands and shield me from seeing only her face. She said how I was brave and it will be over soon and how the Dr needs to put stitches in my arm because I have deep cuts but that she will take care of me. I remember my mom was so sad, but she knew I had to have them. I seriously thought I was being tortured. After the Dr gave me a bunch of lollipops and I  apologized to hi for kicking him. He said I was not a bad patient. he gave me some pain killers because the first few days were really painful.
I had to have my arm wrapped and had to take medication to prevent infection and my mom gave me something for pain when I needed it.  I did not want to unwrap the wound so my mom helped me in the tub and out of it to make sure my arm stayed dry.
 Looking back, what an ordeal for my mom!
 I can say, I still have needle fears, but, I am trying to get over them. I do keep a cooler head.
I can say that I do handle physical pain better than most people. I feel pain but do have a higher pain threshold than other people. Maybe it is my way of survival.

Adorable me. On my 3rd or 4th Birthday

Samson. My Beloved Friend

My mom was working and going to school. And she had a boyfriend. This boyfriend of hers we had known and he was just friends with my mom when we lived in Salt Lake City, after living in Atz and Nedra Kiltcher's basement apartment but right before we moved to Hawaii. His name was D.Y. Now, they were just friends and writing to each other back and forth while we were living in Hawaii, and when we moved back from Hawaii my mom was dating him. Us girls really really liked him a lot. He was a sweet guy, really tall. Taller than my birth father, and a basketball player for one of the bigger universities in Utah.

He spoke Swedish and German and Norwegian and he had a baritone voice when he sang. He laughed a lot and would pretend he was a bear. Very great guy. We were sure Danae and I, were sure that mom would marry this guy. He was a keeper. In the meantime, what I rarely mentioned before was my mom's family.

   My mom was the eldest of 9 kids. One child died at 5 months old, when my mom was probably 5 or 6. So, I never knew her. My mom have a younger sister that was younger than her, we lived with her in California. We also had uncles. Four of them. They were awesome. Then, we had two more aunts. They would come see us a lot. My uncle when I was 5  years old we were living in Salt Lake, He would come see us and go skiing. He once tried to take my mom. My mom hated skiing so much she ended up walking down the hill. She laughs about it now but she did not back then.

My  uncles and aunts would come visit and stay a few days and sometimes we would go live with my uncles and aunts for all summer. I recall many stories with which I will have to share, but I will just share the story of my uncles meeting James.

 Now,D,afew times visited my Grandma and Grandpa's house. They lived in La Sal, Utah. La Sal is a tiny place, and it is near Moab. I loved going there because my uncles would take me to the Arches. I would climb and crawl around those arches with my aunts. Rae, and Athena. They were so much fun and my uncles and aunts were like my brothers and sisters to me. We had a huge blast. Well, my mom's family lived in country in La Sal and country in Utah is different in different places. La Sal was red desert and High Plateau. Red Mountain Rock and Sand Rocks all over. Southern Utah is where many many of the Great Western Films were made, and Jimmy Stuart filmed about 96% of all his Cowboy Westerns in Southern Utah,If not ll. Well, La Sal was surrounded by Red Sand, the ground was very different with browns, blues, and purples and mostly red. My Grandpa had a horse name Dynamite. He was a black horse and I was allowed to ride him when my uncles were with me. Dynamite lived by his name was was a little flighty but, I loved him Silver Dollar was another horse they had, I remember, and our sweet horse, Cinnamon had returned to the Great Father Sky, which broke my heart, but knowing he would be able to eat apples everyday gave me hope that I would once again see Cinnamon and ride him like I did when I was three.

  Now, John would take me there for a couple of weeks. He would drive me there to La Sal, drop me off and I would spend lots of time with my uncles and aunts. My grandpa had a sweet dog. I can not recall her nae right now, but she had puppies and one day, I grew so found of the fattest biggest puppy I pleaded with my grandpa if I could keep him on the farm with him and he could be mine. To my delight and joy, my grandpa, uncles aunts and grandma all said Yes. He was so big and huge paws. He was a mighty dog and I named him Samson. Samson and I would go for what seemed to be hours, in the country fields of La Sal. We would watch the rabbits and Samson would try to chase them. Samson was huge. Samson was on his hind legs 6' 8" tall because he was the exact height as my mom's boyfriend, John. Now, Samson was half Black Lab and Half St Bernard. He was all black but on his neck he had a small speck of white. He had the biggest paws I had ever seen on a dog, and I have seen hundreds.

  He had the saliva glands of a St Bernard and a heart of a puppy. He thought he was a puppy. That is no doubt his mother's black lab spirit. Oh how I loved Samson and I would go digging out in the Country. I would look for bottles, old coins, Arrow heads. One day, while out digging, a thunder storm was approaching. not too fast. clouds were rolling slowly in and I knew in Southern Utah and Eastern Utah, Flash Floods came swift. My grandpa taught me how to watch for storms. He would always say you can smell a storm coming. He was right. You could. I also knew that the storm was coming and it started getting late because normally coyotes would howl and yip at night but I hardly ever heard nor saw them in the day. Strange... I saw one. I wanted to run but my uncle Paul, always said to not run and keep really still because they might want to catch you. They liked to chase. So, I sat frozen and not a second sooner did Samson jump up, ran faster than lightening and chase down the coyote but not only did he chase down the coyote, and caught it, I started running back home. I knew I did not have to worry about Samson. I knew it was his way of protecting me. A couple seconds, I looked back... I heard a yelp. I thought, What do I do. I saw Old Yeller and was scared tat what happened to Old Yeller would happen to Samson. But I saw Samson coming back... Not even a scratch on him!!! We hurried home and before I got home I was tired, I laid myself on Samson and Samson carried me back home to safety on his back, the size of a pony. Samson did eat Rabbit, which made me sad but one day my Uncle Ian explained it was sad, but that the bunnies were eating their garden and Samson protected our food. Uncle Ian was and still is my dearest most beloved uncle. However,I adore all my uncles with much love.

Sadly, I do not know what happened to my pictures of me in Southern Utah in those Days. more on that later, But I know that I have pictures of me and Samson out there somewhere. I hope my Grandpa is keeping them safe.

My uncle and me. Riding Cinnamon

What I Write

My Dear Reader, 

          To this point you have read many wonderful and interesting things about my childhood. All of which are true. The only thing that is fictional, is my name and a few other small details.

 If of course you were to ask my mom, she would refute most of it for privacy sake and as for my sisters, they are of no use because their memory is far less than perfect than that of mine, and for some reason it is a blessing and a curse to have such memories. 

  What I am about to write is true in all accounts and when you read and ask yourself,  "What the Frack?" which I trust you will not say the other F word, please know that my mom is wonderful, marvelous and would never EVER do anything to hurt me. 

I have mentioned earlier that my dearest and oldest friend, Heather and I paled around all that Summer of 1977 and into the school year of 1978. We were in 2nd Grade. 

 What I failed to write you is an incident that takes us back to Hawaii. I did this intentionally because what I am about to write is harrowing and traumatic for me. 

 This and some other experiences are not for the faint heart(ed), indeed and not for the eyes of small children nor children, and so please if you want to read something that is more of a Disney Cartoon, please move on now. For those of you that are more of the curious nature, and understand that what I write is for the strength and to help you understand more about me as the writer and what my future looks, please, carry on. But I have thus so warned you.

  In the Fall-ish time of 1976, while I was playing outside with my friends, I was called home. Now, in those days (I can not believe I am using such terms, It reminds me of my grandpa, using that) Calling was a manner of a mother opening a window to the home and shouting your name and, usually followed a reason for being called. And so, My mother called to me, (yes, in those days, you were called to, not simply called) "Leeeenaaa- Time for Supper!" Now, dear reader, yes, it was still called supper and that is what e called it in our home. 

 Another rule to mention: When being called or playing outside, you must always be ear shot from mom or the one in authority when going to a friends house. If you are away from ear shot, (and ear shot means when you are called you can hear it, even if it is faint, you can hear it) then you are close enough. But, If you go out of ear shot from Momma or authoritative figure, you are indeed in trouble. If mom calls, and you do not come in a couple of minutes, then sister or brother is sent. If sister or brother is sent and can not find you, pray for a good hiding place because mom is not angry, but worried. But, I tell you for certain, hell hath no fury when mom finds you and you refuse to call back, answer or refuse to come. Anger and Worry sometimes have a fine line with mom's. (tee hee)

  And so, I was called. When upon walking by the laundromat, I spied a car with a man that looked of black hair and blue eyes. The man was intently watching me. I was trying to get to my mom, but he called me over to his car and asked me if I knew where Elvis Presley's home was in Oahu. I told him I drove by the gates a few times during Field Trips and he asked me if I thought I looked like him. I said maybe, and I noticed he was doing something with his hands. I felt uneasy and scared, and I told him I had to go. He said, "Wait, " and asked me where I lived. I said, I don't know. (because of the Candy Man incident I had learned a thing or two See Here If you don't know the Story) I started walking to the car, because he had a bunch of silver dollars on his dash board. My Step-Dad-Semi-Dad gave those to me all the time. He was holding something in the lap in front of him and he was asking me all kinds of questions, like "Why does your mom go to BYU Hawaii, You have two sisters, Where is your Father". He seemed to know my mom and sisters, but my mom never brought him home as a friend or anything. I did not know how to answer and then I noticed, while he was talking to me, he had his pants down half way to his knees and he was masturbating. I did not know what it was, (the masturbating ) and my mom's best friend at the time had a boy about two years old and still in diapers and my mom baby sat him once.   She and I changed his diaper (which was cloth... the smell was intensely horrific) So, I knew what a boy's private part was, but I did not understand everything that was happening. I felt strange and weird and scared and I ran. I turned around and ran all the way home and sat for a minute on my bed. I thought I was in trouble. I did not know what was happening. My mom saw that something was wrong, and I said "Oh, mom, I am so sorry I did not come fast when you called me" She said, "But I didn't call you, You were at Lavatia's, are you OK?" and I just sobbed. My mom hugged me tight for a long time, well, I did not know how long and finally I told her what happened. She jumped up and ran to the laundromat, came back and told me to tell her everything. At first she did not believe me.. Wait, she was in shock and disbelief, and asked me for details. When you have a little girl saying this man had his pants off, but could not describe what... those parts looked like and in a house full of girls only, you want to get your facts straight before calling the police because those are pretty serious accusations. I was able to describe everything quite into detail and my mom when she saw that I was telling her the truth, and told her everything, she called the police. (yes, reader, now, on the phone, not from the window) We did not have a phone, as I don't recall one, but I do recall Kim Fi and Wa Chan having one, and so my mom called the police from their home. 

  The police came and got a full description of the car, the man and our conversation and then, what he was doing. That part was hard for me because it was with a man. I never used bathroom words with anyone before. But, I was taught to always trust police. And I knew mom was safe, I could trust mom. I did tell the officer everything I knew. Every detail. My older sister, D, was so upset, and strangely, Chimera was laughing and smiling a very strange wiry smile. Like a sheepishly thought it was funny type of smile. I was always perplexed by what she thought was funny and what she thought was serious. In retro-spect, it was an evil grin, but more on that later. 

  Now, reader, here comes another part to the year I lived on 818 E 300 South in Provo. 

  As you recall, I lived with my mom and sisters in an apartment that was in a South Side of Town. Now, There is a saying that in Provo, anything South of Center Street the "poorer" people lived there, and anything West of University Avenue was where the really poor lived. There was an area South of the Train Tracks that, yes, was the wrong side of the Tracks.  

 I have mentioned before that My mom was called a Visiting Teacher (See here as an explanation to what a VT is)  My mom and Heather's mom were companions. They would Visit Teach a woman named "Sister Stanley" Who lived on the West and South corner of  300 South and 900 East. Now, Dear reader, in the following posts you will see something more insidious than  that my mom, Heather's mom, Donna, nor anyone would or could ever ever dream. In the mean time, please just continue reading. 

Let's remember this was in the late 1970's. Jaws was a HUGE hit, and although I was not allowed to see it, I knew it was about a Great White Shark, that Terrorized people, and then I saw it, which instead of making me fear The deep blue oceans, made me have a more love for them and wanting to be a marine biologist, and I had a fear for swimming pools, I know weird. (The story as to why I have a fear of swimming pools is Here, Click This )  And This was the same time that David was living in the same city as us so we would get to go do many wonderful things with him. One of them was movies for Free. 

  This was a time of me running around a neighborhood, going to the Library with my sisters or with my friends, I would get on the city bus alone and was safe going to BYU to paint ceramics with my sister or friends and it was safe, people. Not like it is today)

 Sister Swasysupposedly as sweet little old lady that was afraid of things that moved at night. She was sweet and made cookies and cakes for everyone in the neighborhood. She had a little cart that would go with her to the grocery store, buy her items and she would pull them on the way home. She, like many other people, would collect glass bottles and take them back to the store for her 5cent deposit. Yes, a cute little small framed woman. With two sons. (Maybe more?) And she was afraid of the dark. And Lonely. She would call up Heather's mom and ask if one of her daughters would please come sleep at her house with her because her son is not home and she would not be able to sleep because she was scared to be alone, and, Heather would ask me to come. Sometimes, Corrina and Chimera would go instead of me and Heather, and other times it would be all four of us girls. This was the same time that my mom would never be able to understand why I started throwing huge rage fits, and I would not be able to explain either. 

  At this same Summer, my sister, Chimera, had an aunt, Emma. Emma's dad, whom I loved very much, had died when I was 5, was a very strong influence in Emma's life. Emma was the youngest of one sister and three brothers. She was not only the youngest but old enough to be a child to her other sister, Seda. Seda actually had a son that was the exact same age as her. They were growing up together, but in two different lives, at the same time. Emma was 14-15 years old and dating a man that was 24 years old. She had just lost her father a couple years before that and had already taken up smoking, she was in a lot of pain. Now, with a boyfriend that was really really horrible news and basically allowed to come to there house whenever he wanted, he was definitely a bad guy, and I never liked him. I was not allowed to go there when he was around, but I was allowed to sleep over at my grandma's house (Emma's mom's house)  Miguel was Emma's boyfriend, and they ended up getting married because Emma got pregnant at 15 or 16. Miguel would always try to get me to drink alcohol and then try to kiss him and stuff. I never ever did. He would how ever, try to come into my grandma's bedroom while I was sleeping and Emma or Grandma would tell him, Leave her alone. He would be drunk and laugh. Emma would do everything to just get him away, but this man was very forcible and very abusive to her, to her mom and to everyone in her family. David, Emma's brother and Chimera's dad, was very protective and never wanted anyone bad around me. But Miguel was just a bad guy.  

  Also, at the same time, I was from time to time sleeping at Sister Stanley's house. Heather and Corrina would want us to go with them to her house because they hated going alone. 

  Sister Sy, I said, had two sons. (maybe more?) She would make strange beef stroganoff   and it looked like puke to me. She would pray, which I was used to, but she would start her prayers with "Dear God..." (which was normal) But end with "Please kill the sons of bitches police that killed my innocent sweet son that was in Prison for no good reason. " or "Kill anyone that lies about my sons" or "Thrust to hell and may the devil take any police that come knocking on my door" Creepy??? I think so. No wonder why Heather and Corrina never wanted to sleep there? Yeah. Oddly, she would tell the some  weird strange bed time story. Of how her son was killed innocently on Halloween Night. Of how her sons are so sweet and kind and would never hurt a soul and how if anyone says or does anything to them, they would be protected by God and his mighty Angels would come with wrath and a mighty sword and kill anyone and their families for ever speaking ill of her precious sons. We would after, sit up and whisper to each other and dose off to sleep. I can give you details of the house. The home, upon walking in the front door, was a wide rectangular shaped living room, much like a bungalow 1920's style, very common in Utah in the 1920's. All bungalow in Utah had basements, and this was no exception. Basements are so very common there because of the winters freezing pipes, this helped prevent pipes from freezing, bursting and causing all sorts of havoc. I am not sure, but I rarely have been in a home in Utah where there was not a basement. Unless it was a manufactured home. And I was only in one of those in all my life in Utah. 

  Her home was a bungalow style, but she had no regular porch like the 1920 style homes, maybe because of poverty, or maybe because she preferred not having one. The kitchen was off the the left upon coming into the home and to the right was her bedroom, which I never saw. Through the kitchen, which was rather small for a home, smaller than Heather's family's kitchen, on the right was a small bathroom, and further through the kitchen were stairs leading to the basement which was her, Sister Stanley's son's bedroom, and storage. Going down to the basement was a bunch of antlers with baseball caps. (For those of you not aware, it is fact that is a true sign of a Red-Neck, or what my family and friend circle call, White Trash.) Some of the antlers with the baseball caps had guns, rifles mounted or places across, and a few had bows or cross bows hanging from them. It was sure sign of very strange and very menacing to me when I would look from Sister Stanley's kitchen table to the basement as she would tell us over and over how her son died innocently on Halloween Night at the hands of evil police officers in jail. I never said anything to my mom about this because, as Sister Stanley put it, if I did, all my family would die. My mom, my sisters, and Heather's family would too. I was sworn to secrecy to not say anything. I believed that my mom and sisters would get hurt. I was too scared to do anything. Or say anything. 

   Another thing that was really bothersome for me, and something  I never understood at the time, was the next day when I would come home from sleeping at Sister Stanley's house was the fact that I never knew where my underwear went. My mom would ask me, as she would clean my clothes, and I was embarrassed, so I would say, "Heather needed a new pair, again. Hers had holes in them," or, "Corrina had small one that were hurting her" My mom believed those stories because I was the type to give the shirt or coat off  my back to someone who needed it more than me, even at that age, and I have several times before and since. It made sense to my mom and my mom would go and replace my socks, underwear, etc etc that I would give to my friends and other kids at school. The dream I had, were not dreams,but rather, I would see Sister Stanley's son in my window late at night, and scream and my mom would come to my room only to find nothing out the window. But he would be there, and he would have one of his rifles, watching me. Not just one time, but several times. My mom, since she never could find him actually at  my window always thought it was night terrors, and took me to a Doctor. The Doctor confirmed, Night Terrors, which are in fact genetic, and so, gave my mom ideas on what to do about them, not feed me sugars after a certain time, make sure I had plenty of sleep, no stress, play soft music in my room as a I fell asleep, read with me happy stories and stories about princesses, or happily ever after type stories, and even stories about Bible People, Stories of How Jesus loves little children. She was never preachy, nor never told us, You will go to Hell if you... " My mom was never that way. She would tell us of how Jesus did so many kind things to so many people. My mom would tell us funny stories she would make up or even real stories about her life as a child in Alaska and stories about when we were babies.   But then, I would still get these feelings some one was watching me, I would look out my window and he would be there. One night, D saw him. She verified that he was watching us, but he did in fact vanish as if he was only a dream and my sister D can not remember these to this day. 

    Chimera took another approach to sleeping at Sister Stanley's house and my mom had greater far more problems she had to focus on with Chimera. 

     Chimera was really strange. I know in my Christian Culture all Children are born innocent and pure. Unlike other Christians we never baptize babies because I was taught children are free from the Sin of Adam and Eve, and so, why should we baptize an Innocent Pure Child?  I do believe that this philosophy is true, but I believe there are some Children that should never have been born either. I have heard it said of Cain that Eve had a "Struggle within her womb" and I believe that my mom had the same. My sister chimera was not normal. 

  My mom was going to school and working hard. My sister and I would have about 1-2 hours of having to watch Chimera before my mom got home, but very rare times. My mom tried her best to be in school or work when we were and be home when we were. But, if she could not be, Chimera was to walk with us to her Grandma's house and wait for my mom or her dad to get off work or school and My older sister and I were very able and capable of coming home, doing one or two chores and then working on homework or doing what we were told. Chimera never did anything she was told. What took normal moms 20 minutes to get out the door, with a child like Chimera we knew we would have to wait another hour before my mom could do anything. My sister and I were deeply annoyed with Chimera and her manipulative ways. She was very manipulative. She would when she got her way, sneak a look at me and smile. Her smile at me was always cunning and snake like. She was never in trouble. Never. One time she was angry with me because we were playing a game of Sorry! when I was ahead by little and trying to let her win even giving her help, she punched herself very hard in the chest, started screaming, hit herself with the game board and my mom ran to her aid. I was so angry at her and said I hated her. I got in trouble for hitting, punching, cheating on the game, and not playing nicely with my sister. As I sat crying on my bed, and a tearful angry fit of my mom sitting on me because I threw a fit because I felt cheated and trapped and I was accused of lying, my mom was comforting chimera and not me, my mom's back was turned to me but Chimera's face was to me. The once brown eyes that Chimera had were totally black and her smile made me loathe her completely with a deep frustration , insecure and fear feelings I had never known in my life nor since to any other human being I have ever had. I had all my life been truthful, good and kind but very up front about people and situations and many would call me a judgmental bitch. But I have always stood by my word, and 99% of the time I was right about those people, the situations and when I was wrong, Oh Hell I would shout it out and claim to everyone I was wrong. But with Chimera, I never understood the power she had over my mom. It was like a poison and like stinging nettle that would burn me all my life.  Chimera was mean to animals too. We had a kitten we had to watch and protect from Chimera. Danae and I . Tawny. We named her Tawny after a Golden Book about a lion called "Tawny Scrawny Loin", we then had another cat named Taffy. (salt Water Taffy is a Specialty in Utah from the Great Salt Lake) And then we had a dog, a Caca-poo... We called I can not remember his name. But, every pet we had we had to watch Chimera. Most times we had to just say.. Oh, That is Chimera. Looking back, she was once messed up girl. It was all genetics, and really mom did everything to discipline her. Well, Mom never spanked us. Ever. But she had to swat Chimera a couple of times. But wow, Chimera deserved a swat. My mom was really at her wits end with that girl and my sister and I saw the effects of her too. 

  More on this Stanley guy is to come. 

All I will say about Miguel is Emma ended up divorcing him, getting a court order that he was not allowed to go within 25 yards of his son, Emma or the house that Emma lived. A few months later, Miguel was in a car accident that made him even more crazy. He ended up being the south Provo Pervert watching around town flashing little girls and going in and out of the State Mental Hospital and eventually I do not currently know his where about nor do I care. I know a lot of friends that are in the Sheriff and Police Departments in the County, and a few lawyers. They have said some harrowing things about him. All of which are true. He is and was a sick person and Genetics that are bad breed more Genetically Sick people. 
  You will see that through all of this, how people turned out and how lives and people and perspectives change. And How love helps to change. But, how sometimes you can not change nor expect someone to change. And you will later see how everything unfolds. 

 

 

Proof I Had Friends

My last blog did not include pictures. 

I wanted to show some now

Second Grade Picture

Because I just so darn CUTE! I had to put me on my Second Birthday

Me and my Friend whom I named Heather. There is another one of this, I was posing because I thought we were going to pose.

Second Grade

I spent my second grade in Provo Utah, and down the street from a couple of crazy guys. 
 There was one guy that was weird. I forgot his name, but he lived near my Grandma's house, but I was told by David to stay away from him. He was always trying to hold my hand and he was OLD. He was weird. He was always trying to get me and my sister to come to his house, and Heather warned me big time about him. 
  We had another problem. Heather and I. There were a group of 10 graders that would hide from us after school and jump out and try to grab us. We would try to run and they would try to grab us and they were mean to us. They would try to pull our hair and they were always waiting for us. My mom was so annoyed with these girls. 
  One day they did grab Heather and I ran back and got her but Heather and I had enough of those girls so we talked to my mom. My mom said she owuld wait for us in the car, in the parking lot and she said pretend like we do not know her. I said ok. Well, my aunt, her sister came into town. Reva. Reva was tough. She was 16 when I was 7 or 8. She was tough. She had 2 brothers that she would fight with and two other brothers that were sweet but boy, she was awesome. Well, my mom had told her that these girls were harassing Heather and I.  Reva was up for the job. We went to school as usual and on the way I had told Heather that my mom was waiting for us but to act natural and act like they were not there. She said OK. Well, the hour came. My mom was in fact waiting for us at the Church Building. Well, that was where the three girls always waited for us. So, we walked as normal, and they started coming toward us when my aunt jumped out of the car with my mom. The looks on the girls' faces when they took off toward the girls and saying, "You like bullying little girls?" my aunt was saying, "Why don't you come here and chase me?" the girls never stayed to harass us after that. It was AWESOME! I was hoping they would do it again so my mom would do an encore chasing. It was epic for Heather and I. 
  It was a confirmation that mom once again deserved the "Mother of the Year" award.