(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.
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.
