Teenage years...

Life in the home just became normal to me after awhile. Janet was only there for 1-2 years before she graduated from high school. She was able to go to nursing school and later become a register nurse. I was always so proud to have a sister that was a nurse. When we still lived at home during her freshman year, she attended school at a convent. She wanted to be a hospital nun. I think she just did it to get out of our house. Dad used to take us to visit her once a month in Riverton, IL at St Francis. I really was proud to have someone so 'holy' in our family. In my family on my mother's side, were many nuns and priests. Later in their lives they also quit the order. Everyone married and had children, it was quite an honor in a Catholic family to have someone in the religious order. The convent that Janet attended closed down after her freshman year. She came back home to live until we went to the home. I missed seeing her everyday but it made me even more independent in the long run. Linda went to a airline school located in Kansas City after graduation. Her dream was to become a ticketing agent not necessarily a flight attendant. She decided not to pursue that line of work after completing the school and moved to Florida instead. I was so proud of her because I thought she was so brave to move away from Decatur. She would move to many locations in her lifetime and loved to travel too. With my sister's both out of the home, I felt truly alone. I was still the fat girl with no dates. My friends were finding boyfriends but I never did. I remember the embarrassment I felt in gym class on the days that the middle divider was opened in the gym. We would have to share the gym with the boys. We wore navy gym suits that snapped up the front and had elastic around the legs. The elastic made a bubble look to the top of your legs. I thought that everyone was looking at my fat thighs. I felt like I was enormous. I covered my shame with laughter. I poked fat jokes at myself so I could laugh at myself first. I have kept that up my entire life...always the funny one. I was terrible at gym. I didn't know how to play the simplest of games. We didn't play baseball, soccer, hockey or any other sport. I was never around boys so I only knew girly things. I hated the day we had to do the 600 run on the track. It was like the worst day possible. I was always last.

Mrs Pratt had retired the last year I lived in the home. I was glad to see her go. She was still wearing her squeaky shoes the day she left. We got new houseparents after she left. Mr and Mrs Shales, they had a house built in the back yard of Webster Hall. They had two children of their own so they didn't want to live in the actual building that we lived in. I thought things would be better when they took over and to a point it was better. I was still my bossy self and my attitude had gotten much worst. I didn't want to live in the home anymore and 2 more years seemed like a lifetime. I think we all felt pretty jealous because the Shales had a home and a real life and we didn't. Mrs. Shales seemed to be the one in charge for the most part but I think Mr Shales really did the dictating and she followed his command. Mr Shales had a heart attack and had to be in the hospital for awhile. Even after getting out of the hospital he had to stay home and take it easy.

I was in charge of the dish washing room for the month. It was my job to be sure all the dishes were clean and put away. It was run like a military operation. One to scrap, one to rinse, one to run the dishwasher, two to put away dishes. It usually worked well. That is accept for this one day...Melinda, was on ketchup and mustard detail. That involved taking small dishes of mustard & ketchup and scrapping the remains back into the large jars. After emptying the small containers she was to bring them to the dish washing room so we could wash them. This day as most days she was very slow. She always marched to her own drummer anyway. I kept telling her to hurry up and get them in there so I could shut down the room. She didn't listen to me after many attempts to get her to hurry. I told her that she would have to wash them by hand because I was shutting it down. I did what I said. We all finished up and went back to floors for the rest of the evening. That night, Mr Shales, decided to come over to the main house and do a surprise inspection. He was still very fragile from his recent surgery. I had heard he was down in the kitchen...I knew it was a matter of time for I got called down there. Sure enough I heard my last name being called over the loud speaker..."Layton get down here!" I didn't hurry, in fact I think I said, 'I'm not going down there'...I knew he couldn't walk the stairs. I waited for quite awhile and then I finally went down to the kitchen. He was waiting for me and he was very angry. He grabbed me by the arm and started to yell at me. I snapped. I grabbed him and threw him against the wall and told him to keep his hands off of me. Now honestly, no one was more surprised than me. I didn't let my fear show though. I stood tough and defended my ground. I did wash the dishes but I wasn't happy about it. He left and went home. I went back upstairs to watch TV. What I didn't know is that they had to call the ambulance to his house because he almost had another heart attack. Later that night, Mrs Shales, called me out of the TV room. She was crying and she got in my face. She shouted, "I hope you know my husband almost died tonight." I looked her straight in the eye and said, "I wish he had died." It just kills me to know I could be so hateful to someone in such pain.

I don't know what happened exactly after that. I was called to the front office the next day. I was told that I was going home to live with my dad & Juanita in their apartment on a trial basis. If it didn't work out I was going have to go live in a convent until I was 18. I secretly began thinking of all the things I could do to the nuns. I didn't care what happened to me anymore.

I packed one suitcase and my dad picked me up. Now I was back with the same family that didn't want me. We lived in a two bedroom apartment on Wood St. We actually lived in that apartment house 3 different times in my life. I am not clear on what happened but Juanita didn't stay with dad long after I moved in. This time there was an actual divorce. I know that dad was still drinking and I am sure that played a very big role in that final breakup. Also it had been the first time they had ever lived alone, now she had me again. Only the girl that came back to live this time was not the chubby little girl that had once lived with her. Now I had a big dose of attitude. It must have been hard on her.

After she moved out, I became the 'wife'. I made the grocery list, cooked the food, cleaned the house and I liked it. I felt so grown up. I could watch TV whenever I wanted. I was still in the same high school with my same friends. It was a fun time in my life because my dad was so busy drinking in the bars he left me alone a lot. He would call me and tell me what to fix for dinner. That was my time to learn to cook, by trial and error. I didn't have anyone to teach me so we had some pretty nasty meals. I would take the bus after school and then go to a friends house or go downtown and hangout. I would take the bus home making sure that I got home right before dad did. He never knew what I was doing. It was frustrating at times because I would fix dinner and then he wouldn't come home to eat. I was to put his dinner in a pie tin, covered with aluminum foil, in the oven on 'warm'. He would come home drunk and eat his dinner after I had gone to bed. I hated it, I felt like a wife waiting for her husband to come home. Once I decided, hell with it, and I threw his dinner away. When he came home that night he woke me up and made me cook him a whole new dinner. I never threw his supper away again.

He used to sit at the kitchen table and drink Mogan David wine out of a big jug. He would have me sit at the table with him while he talked and talked. He would smack his lips together while talking....I hated it. I hated the way he smelled of booze. He bounced into the walls and walked around in his underwear. It was very uncomfortable for me. But it was better than being in the home. I can't be sure because my memories refuse to let me know but I think he molested me during that time. I remember him whistling at me in my shorty pajamas at night. It made my skin crawl. I remember being in bed one night and he came into my room. He sat on my bed and kissed me. I don't know what happened next but I remember sitting at the top of my bed with my arms folded and my knees drawn up to my chest. I was rocking back and forth. Maybe I was just scared or maybe something happened. I try not to dwell on it. I do think he left a terrible imprint on my life though.

During this time I also remember the best years of my life. My girlfriends and I had great slumber parties on the weekends. We took turns staying at each others house. It was great. We learned all kinds of things. We did fun things like doing each others hair and nails. We ate like pigs talked about boys and could split one small bottle of Sloe Gin between 12 girls. We learned how to kiss from one of the girls' older brother's. We put each other into to trances. Such wonderful friends, such great friends and most of us are still friends even to this day. These are the things I choose to remember about my teenage years.

Of course, all good things come to an end. Dad had found a new step-mother for me. Her name was Kathryn and he thought she had money because she had a nice home. Kathryn thought he had money because he had a good job...a marriage based on deceit. We moved out of our apartment and moved into her house. I was to now become the daughter again and she would be the wife. That was a very hard transition for me. I had lost my freedom once again. I did have one week to myself while they went on their honeymoon though...that wasn't good.

I was sixteen, I was angry and I had lost my place in life. Kathryn was very nice to me but she was a stranger. I no longer needed nor wanted a mother in my life. I introduced her as my father's wife, never my step-mother. She was very particular about her home. She was a very neat and orderly person. I also gained another step-brother Gary and a step-sister Carol. They were much older. Carol was married and had three children. Gary was divorced and a misfit in life per his mother. I didn't know Gary well at all. I was told while they were on their honeymoon I was not to let Gary in the house because he wanted his gun. I was not to give him his gun under any circumstances. Guess who came over to visit when he knew Kathryn was out of town? Gary! Guess who got his gun back? Gary! I wasn't going to stand up to someone I didn't know and I sure wasn't going to fight someone over a gun!

Webster Hall...

I'm not sure how I got the status of Bully or Ringleader but that was my title. I was in trouble all the time but I didn't care. I liked be feared but the other girls. I remember even intimidating one of the housemother's, her name was Mrs Wampler. She didn't want us to play cards, dance or listen to music. She was tall and skinny with red hair, almost like the lady in Annie the play. One night when she went to bed, I crawled out onto the fire escape and scratched her screen window and made scary sounds. She came running out of her room and we were all doubled over in laughter. I think the thing that sent her over the top was the night she locked herself in her room. I threw jelly beans at her door, it sounded like bullets because it was a wooden door. She quit soon after that! I was always doing silly things that got me into trouble.

Since there were so many of us on the floor, 14 I think, we had to do things in order. We had to sign up for a time to shower or take a bath. We had to sign up to do our ironing or use the sewing machine. Everyone usually waited for me to choose than they would sign up for their times. It is almost embarrassing to remember these things but unfortunately they were true.
We were allotted 3 bras a year. They came from J C Penney's, they were stitched in circles on the cups. You had to iron your bra before you could wear them. If you didn't it looked like you had something scrunched up under your shirt. We didn't have many clothing choices back then. We had a clothing allowance of $7.00 a month. You could save your clothing allowance until you had enough to buy something you wanted. It didn't happen often. We could go to certain stores downtown and put our clothing on a type of "layaway" for Webster Hall. It was very embarrassing to have to do that because the salesgirl usually didn't know about the special plan. She would have to get the manager and the manager would whisper in her ear that we were from the home and it was okay. One time I saved my own money so I could buy a pair of hose. They hadn't invented pantyhose yet so we bought stockings. One of my friends had given me her old garter belt because she had gotten a new one. I went to Woolworths and purchased my nylons. I could hardly wait to go to church the next day because I could finally wear nylons instead of socks. Imagine my disappointment when I realized they had seams up the back. No one wore seams anymore...once again I wore socks to church.

There was a man named, Frank Tenney, who wanted to help all of us out. He must have been a wealthy man but I don't know what he did for a living. Twice a year he would buy everyone of us a pair of shoes. Once a year he would bring each one of us a gigantic Sugar Daddy candy in a big box. He was so cool. One time he had all of us out to his home/farm for a cookout. That was something really rare for us. He had sons that took turns taking us on dirt bikes, hay rides, etc. I remember it was so much fun. I always wanted to be like him, to help make a memory for someone.

Christmastime was always strange for us too. It was the one time a year we were allowed to go into the formal living room. It was a large room, green I think, with an upright piano that no one used. We would have made a list of what we wanted for Christmas and one of the upstanding 'ladies clubs' would adopt us for the day. They would all come at once so they could watch us open our gifts. I guess they got some kind of gratification out of seeing our faces. What they didn't know is that we practiced acting surprised and grateful before they got there. It was such a farce. Christmas had always been such a fun time when we were little but not anymore. None of us ever got toys, it was always clothing. I don't even remember having toys in the home. We did finally get a donated bike once. It had to make do for 40 girls so I didn't get to ride it very often. I have always tried to have the perfect Christmas since then but I can never get it right, it still leaves me feeling empty when it is over.

We didn't even enjoy the simple things in life when I lived there. We didn't have toothpaste instead we used a mixture of salt and baking soda on our teeth. We never had dental visits unless there was a problem. One night, it was Friday the 13th, I was watching scary movies with one other girl. It was time for me to go to bed, when I got up to leave she tripped me. I felt face first on the tiled floor. Unfortunately, my front teeth went directly into the tile. I chipped both of my front teeth. I looked like a vampire for years after that. I was taken to the dentist the next day but I didn't get them fixed because it was too expensive. They filed the points down so I wouldn't cut my lip. I would be in my 30's before they were capped and made to look normal. We didn't have real shampoo either, it was a mixture of a concentrate of some kind mixed with water. It was so watery it wouldn't even make a lather. I saved my money to buy mine own when I got older. Being a young girl, for years I had to make do with what was available.

I was overweight even as a young girl. I weighed 9lb 5oz when I was born and continued to blossom from there. I have pictures of myself at the age of 5 and I was a chunk then too. I was not an attractive girl and I knew it. I had fanged teeth and fat thighs. I thought I was the biggest person alive. I think I was a size 14-16 in high school, I wish I was that size now! To a young girl it was hard to look like me. No one ever asked me out on a date. I didn't go to prom or any of the dances. I just hung out with my girlfriends. I was great to hang out with because next to me everyone looked skinny and pretty. My low self esteem probably started in junior high.

I went to Catholic school from 1st to 7th grade. I was well behaved for the most part because the nuns wouldn't let you get away with much. I was also the girl that hung out under the fire escape teaching the other kids dirty limericks. When I was in 6th grade I was given the honor of being a playground supervisor. I loved being in charge. There was one 1st grader that cried all of the time. I decided to teach her a lesson. I put her in the center of a circle of other children and had them make fun of her. I thought she just needed to toughen up a little. That just happened to be the day her mother came to visit the school. She was able to witness the whole show. I was in BIG trouble. She grabbed my arm an threaten to tell my mother what I had done. I pulled the 'go ahead my mother is dead card'!! It worked, she shut up but I lost my job on the playground. Now how embarrassing is that??

Going to Catholic school was an adventure all in itself. I remember in 3rd grade my step-mother made me wear a sleeveless dress to school. We weren't allowed to wear sleeves in case a boy might look in our arm holes and see our flat chest. My step-mother was adamant that I wear that dress because she had bought it for school. I was scared to go into the classroom. Sister Walegudaus saw me as soon as I entered the room. I could feel her eyes looking at my naked arms, I felt the hair on my arms stand up straight. She got out of her chair and grabbed my arm. She took me into the cloakroom and shut the door. It was hot outside so there were no sweaters or coats in there for me to cover my arms. She looked up at the window and grabbed the drape. She took the drape and wrapped it around my shoulders and made me wear it all day like a shawl. I was so embarrassed. Juanita was really mad about it but I never had to wear that dress to school again.

Going to Catholic school for so many years really did not prepare you for the real world. The home had been lenient with me for my 6th and 7th grades at St James. We were the only Catholics in the home. Everyone went to Four Square Church on Sundays except for us. We walked to church every Sunday. I am not sure why I was allowed to go to school there but I was. I have a feeling someone in the church must have paid my way. I don't know why I wasn't able to go my 8th grade year but I didn't attend St James that year. I finished my last year of junior high at John's Hill Jr High. I had never went to school with black people before. I was scared of them. I had heard horrid things about them and no one in the home was black. When we walked home from school we always walked in a group. We were afraid that they would bother us if we were alone. One time I got detention for something or another; but when it came time to stay after school I cried the whole time. The teacher felt sorry for me and let me out of detention. I ran all the way until I caught up with our group of girls. I was afraid they would beat me up if I was alone. I never got detention again my whole life.

Missing Mom...

(Dad, Linda, Janet, Me, and Mom)

The strangest thing I remember about Juanita is that she never touched us in a loving way. Never and hug, never a kiss, no praise, only spankings. I remember once I was very sick with a fever, I was sitting next to her on the couch, I leaned over and put my head on her lap and she stroked my hair. That was the only warmth I ever felt from her. How sad to treat a child like that, I can't even imagine not hugging a child. I think of how I would have felt toward three little girls that had lost their mother to cancer, how could you not love them?

Dad and Juanita were married about 6 years to best of my memory. I also remember that they separated every year of their marriage. She would move out with her children and all of their belongings. We would stay at the house and make do with whatever was left in the house. Those were the happiest times of our childhood. We laughed an played all the time. My dad would come home from work with a lunch bucket full of Staley balls for the neighbor kids. We loved to play jacks with those balls. The neighbor kids love it and so did we.

It seemed that every time Dad & Juanita broke up it was in the month of June. Linda's birthday was June 12th, so she never got to celebrate a happy birthday. Juanita would buy her a present (we had snooped around in the closet and found it) but she would return it. That was even worst then not getting anything. It was like having a carrot in front of you and then have it snatched away. I always felt sorry for her. Dad was fun back then, he would come outside at night and play hide and go seek with all the neighbor kids. It was great. He was still drinking but that was just part of life for us. He used to be a happy drunk. I can remember dancing with my feet on top of his in the kitchen sometimes.

Those happy times never lasted long, Dad & Juanita, always made up and everyone moved back in together. We were once again the red headed step-children. This happened every summer when they were married.

By the time I turned 11, things were getting worse at home. There was more and more arguing going on and the oldest kids had moved out. Sharon was still living with us. She was a trouble maker. She was always sneaking boys into her bedroom and smoking behind her mother's back. I'm sure her mother wouldn't have believed us if we had told on her. She dated an older man for a time, she was a teenager and he was around 50+ at the time. It was a big scandal. She finally moved out also. Later in life she ended up living in Detroit MI in a drug house. She had two mixed race children that I know about. I never saw her again after she moved away.

Juanita moved out for what I thought would be the last time. We were once again losing our home to the bank. We had to get out but we had no where to go. Dad couldn't stop drinking, but we always knew he loved us. The booze was stronger than him and he couldn't say no to it. I know he had tried AA meetings in his life but I am not sure at what point that was. I do know that it didn't work for him. My mother's family had heard of our situation and stepped in to see what could be done. The state was called in and dad lost custody of us, we were made Wards of the State. We had to go to court. They took Janet into a separate room and asked her some questions about our home life. I don't know what she said, but they took us out of Dad's house right then and there.

In July 1964, we moved into Webster Hall Girls Home. I would live there until I was 16 y/o. I remember how scared I was going through those big double doors. We were met by the supervisor, Mrs Mildred Pratt. She had a pasty complexion, stiff hair done in the shape of a bell with a hairnet covering it, just in case a stray hair were to escape. She wore orthopedic shoes that had textured soles that squeaked as her walked down the green tiled floors. It almost sounded like a flock of Canadian geese flying overhead when she was hurrying down the hall. I never saw her smile the whole time I lived there.

Janet was placed on the 4th floor, with the older girls. The girls each had a room with one roommate. The bathroom had stalls, but none of the stalls had doors on them. The door to that floor was locked so the younger girls couldn't go up there. Linda was put on the 3rd floor with the girls in junior high and high school. She slept in a dormitory of 12 girls. There was a couple of rooms that had 2 girls in them but you had to wait for a rotation to get one of those rooms. There was a housemother assigned to each floor. I was placed on the 2nd floor which was called the little kids floor. The age ranged from 5 to 12, they had a dormitory also. Unfortunately, when I arrived there wasn't enough beds for me. I had to make a pallet on the floor in the hallway to sleep at night for the first two weeks.

This was the first time in years I didn't fall asleep with my sisters in my room. I had never been away from them. We were not allowed to see each other except in the dining room. I cried all the time. Once again I was afraid. I think most of my childhood can be summed up as one full of fear. They felt sorry for me and gave me special permission to sit on the steps behind the locked door to the forbidden 4th floor and talk to Janet. She was like a mother to me. She would try to calm me down but I just couldn't stop crying. It was a hard time for all of us.

Life at the Girl's Home changed me forever. I finally realized that all the crying in the world wasn't going to make a difference so I stopped. I learned to adapt, to be strong, to stop feeling, to stop caring. Dad was one of the only parents that came to visit on Visiting Sundays. These were every other Sunday from 2-4 if you stayed on the grounds, or 1-5 if you had permission to go off the grounds. We usually got to go off grounds with dad. He always took us somewhere to eat lunch. I think the other girls were a little jealous that we still had a family that loved us. One thing we did all the time was to go to the mobile home sales lot. We would tour the homes and pick out which one we wanted to buy. We would go through catalogs and pick out all the things that we needed to furnish our 'new' home. Dad would fill out the order form and apply for credit to buy all of the things we needed. He of course, would be turned down because his credit was so bad. He was living in a rooming house, renting just a bedroom. He had lost a lot too, his home, his daughters and everything he loved. He fell back into the bottle and couldn't get out. Meanwhile, our lives continued living with 40 girls in a welfare home. Dad wanted so badly to put our lives back the way they were, he just couldn't do it. We knew he loved us.

Life in the home, was a lot like living in a military school. We had chores, schedules and lots of rules. There wasn't time for playing and no toys to play with. I did get to take one toy with me when I left home, it was my Barbie doll. I put her case with all her clothes in a special drawer that I shared with 2 other girls. I went to get her one day and she was gone. The case was there and all of her clothes but no doll. I never saw her again. I never tried to have anything for myself again. We had study hall Monday thru Thursday nights for 2 hours in the dining room. They hired two teachers to be there to help us with our homework and to tutor us. I did well in school at that time. It was embarrassing to go to school when you were from the home. We always had to pile out of a station wagon in front of the other kids. I didn't want anyone to know that I lived there. We got free lunches and books, but the whole class knew it. It was horrible. We weren't allowed to watch television accept for a few hours on the weekend. We had to all agree on the show we watched too, no fighting or no tv. I usually got my way because I was such a bully. We had many chores to do too. One of those was on Friday night everyone on the 3rd and 4th floors had to wax the dining room tables. One person would apply the yellow paste wax to the table and then the rest of us would follow with dry rags.. We would stand across from another girl with rags in our hands, we would push against each other wiping the wax away until the tables were shiny. We did this every Friday the entire time I lived there. Kitchen duty consisted of having a large tin can of hot water, scrub brush, Comet and a lot of elbow grease. We would go in shifts, first rinse, then scrub, then rinse again, the floors were always clean. We would make toast for everyone in the morning by lining up as many pieces of bread that would fit on the oven rack. We would then place it under the broiler and turn them one by one until toasted, then we would put melted butter on with a paintbrush. In the years that I lived there I never remember having eggs or bacon.

I really evolved into a different person during those years. I learned not to show my fear, to be a leader, not a follower. I learned that troublemakers got all the attention. I was developing into a teenager, one with and attitude. My teen years were sure to be troubled.

Life as a new family...

(The dresses and pinafores that Mom made for Me, Linda and Janet)

Janet and Linda shared a room in the basement. My other step-sister Sharon had a room to herself. She was about 12-13 when we became a blended family. Juanita's husband had also died, so we were house of 'orphaned' children. Janet, Linda and I huddled together often and cried. We missed our mother and our father was committed to his new family.

Dad was somehow able to get our house back on Riverside, but now we were a family of eight and we wouldn't fit into the 2 bedroom house. The house was remodeled and made much larger, another large bedroom was added in the basement. The basement became our new home. My sister's and I shared the room. It had a full size bed in each end of the room. Linda and Janet shared a bed and I had one to myself. Unfortunately, since I had the extra room in my bed my dad had to sleep with me when he was drunk. That happened more than I care to think about. He would fall asleep laying on me or pinning me against the concrete wall of the basement. I was scared, I was just a little girl. He would slobber on me and snore in my ear...those were sleepless nights for me. I would beg Juanita to not have him sleep with me...she would not listen.

Dad had built a bathroom for us in the basement also. It had a shower, toilet and sink, but the shower was never finished so we couldn't use it. I remember one time I sat on the sink and it came away from the wall. Dad was furious he use some kind of strap to tie it back into to place. It stayed that way for years, always a reminded of my mistake. The basement was also famous for big black water bugs. I hated them. There were bug guts all over the floor. The floor was red tile with white swirl marks through out, the walls were a light turquoise blue. We had metal wardrobes because he hadn't built closets in the rooms. We didn't have many clothes so it worked out fine for us.

On Saturdays we would play together exchanging holy cards from church like most people would exchange baseball cards. We played 'bus' on the steps, Janet was always the driver, Linda and I the passengers. We played house with blanket on the floor forming the walls of our home. We always played 'church' wearing blankets on our heads so we could be nuns or saints. We had religious statues on our dressers. Once I had a holy water fountain hanging on my wall by the door. I got holy water from church to fill it. I crossed myself every time I left my room hoping that God would protect me from Juanita. One day I came home from school and the holy water fountain had been taken down and I never saw it again. I knew better that to ask what happened to it. I was now on my own, I didn't think even God would be able to protect me now.

In the summer during the day we would get up early to clean the house. My step-sister's never had to help clean, just us. We cleaned every single day, but we weren't able to run the sweeper until they got up around noon. It was almost like living the life of Cinderella only there were three of us and no prince was looking for us! Once our chores were done and they were up for the day, we were locked outside to play until our parents came home. If we had to go to the bathroom we would ask to use the neighbors bathroom. The highlight our week was walking to the Bookmobile that parked at Eisner's. We loved to read it was our escape. I used to get yelled at for sitting under a shade tree reading my books. Juanita wanted me to be more active and run and play with the other kids. I have always said I was born lazy!

I remember always being hungry when we lived with them. When you have to feed 8 people there are not leftovers. Juanita was a good cook and made the best sweet tea ever. I know she used a cup of sugar per pitcher of tea. She was also diabetic and had only one kidney. She would have to go have dialysis from time to time. It was always scary it me, I thought she would die like my mom did. We had to go to bed very early at night even in the summer months. I had to go to bed at 7:15, Janet & Linda got to stay up a little later. It was always daylight when we went to bed. The neighbor kids would all come to the basement window to talk to us. After things quieted down we would take turns sneaking up to the kitchen to steal bread to eat in bed. It was scary when it was my turn. I feel like it was a scene out of Mission Impossible. We knew what side of the steps creaked so we knew just how to shift our weight to avoid making noise. Once in the kitchen you had to move very slowly breathing as lightly as possible so no one in the living room could hear you. The rooms were attached so it was just a matter of a wall separating us. The bread was in the bottom drawer. You had to inch the drawer open very slowly sneaking your hand in grabbing as much bread as one hand could grasp. We never got caught which is utterly amazing. I wonder what they thought was happening to all the bread. When we made it back down the stairs with our booty...we would all sit together on one bed and divide it amongst ourselves. We tore off the crust eating it first and then rolled the soft into a ball for gourmet dining. This was a very normal thing for us, we did it often. Sometimes after school when we got home before the older kids we would scour the cabinets looking for any food that wouldn't be missed. It was usually butter and syrup on a plate...no bread this time. We ate it by the spoonfuls and cleaned up our mess before we were ever discovered.

Dad had started drinking heavily again. We were alone with the other family most of the time. We were always in trouble. Juanita especially didn't like Janet. Janet was the oldest and she was very protective of us. She was like a mother lioness protecting her cubs. She had a mouth on her that usually got her punished the most. Juanita's favorite weapon was the plastic and wire fly swatter. She slapped us on our legs leaving welts from the metal part. It was so painful. We tried so hard to be good but nothing worked, everything set her off. She must have been overwhelmed herself. She had lost a good of husband of many years to now be married to the town drunk with three little girls. We knew that if it was payday usually Friday's it was going to be a bad night. Dad stopped by the tavern to cash his check and that turned into an all nighter. I remember one night all we had to eat was a can of peas. I choked back the tears trying to eat my peas while she told us what an asshole my dad was...I loved him.

He would come home and sometimes he would come downstairs to see us. It would be just the four of us crying. He would tell us that he loved us and it would be alright. Later he would go upstairs and the fighting would begin. Dad would end up pulling the phone out of the wall so we couldn't call the police. Juanita would make us go to the neighbors house to use the phone. Dad would get in the car and hide in the St Mary's parking lot so the police couldn't find him. This was 'normal' to us. We thought everyone lived like we did.

Life after mom...

(Me on my 5th birthday, right before Mom died)

I was kind of excited to think that I would have a new mother in my life. I knew how much my mother had loved me so I thought Juanita would just continue on in mom's footsteps. I was very wrong. It is hard to look at that period of life as a child only, I can also see it from the perspective of an adult. I think Dad married her to have someone to raise his little girls and I think she married him thinking he would pay her bills. I think they were both surprised at how it turned out.

Dad had lost our little home on Riverside, probably foreclosure due to medical bills. I am not sure of this but this is the adult in me thinking. When they first married we lived in rental homes. The one that I remember the best was on Wood St. It was a big house with a big front porch and a big propane tank in the back yard. We used to play on the tank, pretending it was our horse. I shared a room with my step-sister Brenda. She was very nice to me, although she was 9 yrs older than me. My step-brother Jerry Hildebrand, was 10 yrs older and had his own room. He was very 'hip' to me. He even appeared on a local televised dance show (like American Bandstand) once. He was like a movie star to me. He had a cool car and would take us to school once in awhile. I was so proud to be is little sister. He later in life became a semi professional golfer. Brenda became a nurse. She married Dean Ashby and together they owned a local restaurant named The House of Plenty. We spent many hours there cleaning it before they reopened it. They never had children and divorced later in life. It turns out that Brenda was a lesbian and found a life partner. They opened a furniture store together in a different state. I would imagine Juanita was very disappointed in her decision to live her life with another woman. Juanita also had a brother, my Uncle Hank, that was gay but it was never discussed.

Finally the Book

(Janet, Mom, Me and Linda)

I will just start at the beginning telling what I know, what I think I remember and go from there.

My dad, James Cylouis Layton, was born in Arkansas on December 13, 1914 (12-13-14). He was the oldest of six children. His mother died when he was a child, I am not sure what his age was. He father remarried and he also had step siblings. He told us that he had to quit school in the 6th grade to help take care of the family. I don't know what the circumstances were but I believe they were very poor. He was a handsome man with black curly hair. I think of him as a ladies man and a drinker. He was in WWII in the Army. I don't know how or where he meant my mother but I do know that they married late in their lives. The were married in 1948, he was in his mid 30's and mother was in her early 30's. That must have seemed unusual back in that time.

My mother, Delores Francis Keck, was born in Decatur, IL and was one of seven children. She was born in to a very Catholic family setting. My dad was also Catholic, but they came from the morning hard drinking Catholic side. My mom seemed have lots of friends and I have seen many pictures of her laughing and having a good time. I have been told she was a very artistic person, I don't know what her art was but I am sure she was described as creative. I hear that all the time about myself. I like being compared to her. I think I got my dad's ability to make friends and talk to anyone. I am the party planner in the family and so was he. Unfortunately, I also got his attraction to liquor for a period in my life. It came me the confidence that I lacked in my sober state.

After my parents married, they bought a little home in Decatur on Riverside St. The homes were all cookie cutter house, brick, two bedroom , and one bath bungalows. They were built for the servicemen after the war was over. My dad was employed by A E Staley as a civil engineer. I don't know if he was actually a civil engineer because he had no formal education. My mother was a secretary for a company in Decatur until their first child was born. Janet Kay, was born October 30, 1948, just nine months after their wedding. Mom became a stay at home from that point on in her life. Their second daughter, Linda Ann was born June 12, 1950. In 1953, I was born, yet another daughter, Kathleen Ann, on May 5th. I sometimes wonder if that was a disappointment to Dad. Did he ever want a son? Did he ever want children let alone three? Some questions will always remain unanswered because my parents are both deceased.

Our childhood seemed normal enough but was probably dysfunctional even then. Dad went to work everyday and mom stayed home with us. She made all of our clothes, mostly dresses because that what little girls wore back in the day. I remember trying on flannel pajama's and loving the feel of the material next my skin. Although I was very little I have loving thoughts of my mother. I am not sure exactly when she was diagnosed with breast cancer but she was sick for most of my life. My mother's family didn't like my father very much, I am not sure why but I would assume it had to do with his drinking. I have heard rumors that he was rough with her sometimes but I don't know that for a fact. They believed that he had hit her in her breast causing the lump that turned into cancer. Now as an adult I know that in no way could that cause cancer, but I am sure they had their reasons for these thoughts. If she had been my sister maybe I would have felt the same way.

Mom spent a lot of time in and out of the hospital. She eventually was home with me in the daytime while my sisters were at school. I can remember the visiting nurses would come to the house to change her bandages. It was a mystery to me what they would do when they went in the bedroom. I would sit in a big chair in the living room and sing songs to myself so I wasn't afraid. After the nurse would leave I would crawl into to bed with mom and lay with her. I remember the smells of the ointments they use to dress her wounds. It was a comfort to me to lay with her. I still remember her wearing dresses around the house, never pants. She would wear white socks with sandals too. How funny to remember such silly things. The last year of her life she spend in St Mary's hospital. We were too young to visit her in the hospital. The hospital was next door to St James Catholic Church, so on Sundays we would stand outside on the sidewalk so she could see us. When she could she would stand at the window and wave to us. It was like looking at an angel watching over us.

She died when I was 5, Linda was 8, and Janet was 10 years old. I still remember the night she died. Dad came home and took Janet out on the porch to tell her. I stood watching from the living room window, I saw her cry, I knew something was wrong. She came in the living room and she told Linda and me. We all cried and cried. My dad cried too. Her funeral was at J J Moran funeral home. She was on the 2nd floor, I remember someone lifted me up to kiss her goodbye. I screamed, I was afraid, I was a little girl. She was wearing a pink dress with little rhinestones around the neck. I suppose she was beautiful. She was my mom and I didn't understand.

The months that followed were chaotic. Dad had three little girls to raise and it must have been overwhelming to him. It is no wonder why he turned to alcohol to help him cope. He hired many housekeeper/babysitters to watch us while he worked. Many didn't last long because he had a tendency to stop for a drink after work and would forget his responsibilities awaiting him at home. The women had their own families to go home to so we had quite a turnover for awhile. My sisters were in school so they didn't need childcare during the day. I was only 5, so I went to Kindergarten only part of the day. My teacher was Mrs Young, she spent most of her day holding me on her lap while trying to teach the other kids. She always had lipstick on her teeth. It probably was too much for her. Soon I was headed to Centraila IL to live with my Aunt Clara and Uncle Bill. I didn't know them very well and I was scared to stay when my sisters drove off with my dad. I cried all the time, I wanted my mom and I wanted my sisters back. It was too hard for me to go to Kindergarten so I didn't attend school while I lived there. I am not sure what happened but soon I was on my way to live with my Aunt Effie and Uncle Ockie, in
Ste. Genevieve MO. I loved them and I did much better at their home. I attended Catholic School for the rest of my Kindergarten year. I was the May queen that year, Aunt Effie made me a beautiful blue satin dress to wear. I walked down the aisle of the church carrying a crown for the Blessed Virgin Mary. I felt like a bride, it was a wonderful memory for a very sad time in my life. I was a light in their life because they were unable to have children. My happiness was to be short lived though. They wanted to adopt me but my dad wouldn't hear of it.

The summer after mom died Dad remarried. His new wife, my step-mother, was Juanita. She had three children that were teenagers. Dad and Juanita came to Ste. Genevieve to take me back to Decatur to start my new life. I still remember how broken hearted I was to leave my happy home. I watched out the back window as we drove away from their home crying the whole way.