CHOICES
Introduction
1956 – Savanah, Georgia
I was born into a wonderful family and I am so grateful for that. We lived in many different places including Hawaii and Ottawa, Canada. I also had a strong family bond with more than a hundred relatives. My two sisters and brothers and I took many types of lessons as well as being Scouts.
My father was in the Air Force and worked at the Pentagon. My mother was a Mary Kay director. It wasn’t until I left home, that I realized how lucky I had been growing up. I had never even seen an adult angry or drunk in my whole life.
1954 – Tillsonburg, Ontario
Lloyd , my husband, was born into a much different family. His mother was self-imprisoned by a violent and condemning husband and had no refuge. Her family was two thousand miles away in Saskatchewan and in no better shape than she. Living in a one room rustic shack straddling the railroad tracks in Deep River, Ontario, she saw no escape for her or her seven children. Believing that no matter what the children’s fate, it would be better than hiding under the beds when father comes home and savoring the last bit of oatmeal when he’s gone. Starvation were the better days because he was gone. Surely social services, she thought, or her church would be able to care for them better than she. But she was wrong and the children’s roller coaster future was set in motion that fateful day. Eighteen-month- old Lloyd watched his mother find her way out with a single shotgun fire.
The children were sent in different directions and lost touch. He and one of his brothers became wards of the state and a check to many. Lloyd knew physical abuse all too well for a child so young, but the priests and brothers added a new feature, sexual abuse to the mixture. Over the years, some foster families took Lloyd and his brother in for social recognition, most for free labor. But all wanted the childcare check. They ran many times eventually reaching the familiar trance-inducing railroad tracks. But, like his mother twelve years ago, he was tired.
1974 – Millbrook Prison, Ontario
1n 1974, I flew from Washington D.C. to Ottawa to visit a friend I knew when my family was transferred there for two years. She wanted to visit her boyfriend, Lloyd who was getting out of prison soon and she asked if I wanted to go too. I agreed thinking it might be interesting. I’d never seen a jail much less prison before.
I was intrigued when she introduced us. After the visit, I asked her if she was serious about him. She said, no, not really. He was getting out soon and could help her out. But she had another guy she was seeing so I could have him.
A few months later I flew up and visited him with a friend. She talked to a friend of his while I talked to him. I was mesmerized by his story. Never had I ever heard of anything so traumatic. And that he was strong enough to live through that and still be so smart, caring and funny.
I took a picture of him through the glass. Two guards came rushing in and confiscated my camera telling me that was against the rules. As we were leaving, one of them returned my camera with the film intact. He said he didn’t know if I knew who I was visiting. But I should go back home and never come back there.
1974 – Springfield, Virginia
Something strong kept me bound to him. We wrote every week until he was released. I moved in with him on that day. We were tied together like with Crazy Glue. At the same time, we were like oil and vinegar.
I would need my strong background to deal with the life we embarked on.