Freedom, My Son

By Joanne Stampley

Freedom, My Son took place in New Orleans, Louisiana. A place people referred to as the city that never sleeps. The birthplace of Jazz and the New Orleans Saints. New Orleans can be an exciting place to live, but for this mother, it was a struggle just to get by day after day.
Jolene had endured domestic violence for ten years. She had hoped that by getting out while she could and while her children were young enough, it would make a difference in their lives and save them from experiencing the horrible ordeal. She was wrong, because
Freedom, My Son will show you how children could be exposed to violence at such a young age and how it would carry into their adulthood.
For every mother, Freedom, My Son is a reflection of all of our lives. This remarkable book will show the grief, losses, and coping with the reality that we sometimes deal in life with unbearable pain.
The cycle began with her mother that lived a violent life with her father. Jolene thought that this was a normal way for husbands and wives to live. She thought that if she could get her children out of that relationship early, it would make a difference, but her son was watching and learning with each fight and fuss.
He was taking mental notes and seeing how much control his father had over his mother and the fear she carried. In his mind, he believed that violence was a good thing, and he would always have control.
Freedom, My Son tells the story of the authors own experiences of domestic violence and how it affected the male child of her family. Not only domestic violence is addressed, murder suicide is an issue as well.
As you read this story, the author hopes that if any woman has a child that is involved in an abusive marriage or relationship, she can see how it has an effect on the children.
Readers, listen to the warning signs of your children like violent behavior, giving up on life, their actions in school, or aggressiveness toward their mother. Then you need to get out or get help.
I hope this book, Freedom, My Son, will be in every bookstore in the United States and abroad.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 28, 2009
• ISBN: 9781477162965

Joanne Stampley

When we lose a child a part of our lives died with that child, “Freedom My Son,” is an electrifying story of a mother struggle and journey through raising three children despite the odds she stood against and the loss she endures.

Book preview

Copyright © 2009 by Joanne Stampley.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form

or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by

any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the

copyright owner.

This book is based on a true story. The names and location and some of the contents

of the events in this book have been changed to protect the privacy of the persons

involved.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

48405

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments   

Special Thanks   

About the Author   

Introduction   

Foreword   

Prologue   

Chapter One   

The Escape

Chapter Two   

Winning Back My Children

Chapter Three   

The Shoot-Out

Chapter Four   

Where Is My Father?

Chapter Five   

Love Is Blooming

Chapter Six   

The Beginning of RYP

Chapter Seven   

The Best and Worst of Times

Chapter Eight   

Losing a Friend

Chapter Nine   

The Engagement

Chapter Ten   

Ron Moved Out

Chapter Eleven   

Ron Got His Own Apartment

Chapter Twelve   

She Had to Give It Back

Chapter Thirteen   

Tass Gave Birth

Chapter Fourteen   

The Wedding

Chapter Fifteen   

Out of Control

Chapter Sixteen   

Dreams

Chapter Seventeen   

Ron the Rapper

Chapter Eighteen   

Lost in Florida

Chapter Nineteen   

Who Should Apologize?

Chapter Twenty   

Domestic Violence

Is It a Learned Behavior while

Your Children

Are Watching?

Chapter Twenty-One   

When It Rains, It Pours

Chapter Twenty-Two   

Gone Too Soon

Chapter Twenty-Three   

I Wanted to Say

Chapter Twenty-Four   

Regrets

Epilogue   

Dedication

In loving memory of my mother, my son, and his wife

Mildred Hutcherson

Robert C. Floyd IV

Theresa J. Floyd

Samuel Williams

They are not with us in the physical world

to see this book become a reality, but I

know they are rejoicing in the spiritual world.

They are always in my heart and prayers.

Acknowledgments    Butterfly%20(edited).jpg

I am greatly indebted to God for making the success of my book possible, and to my family, friends, and colleagues for their support and patience in the preparation of my book.

To my mother, Mildred Hutcherson; Tonyia W. Esquilin and Kewana Warren, my daughters, for their unconditional love. To the best sisters and brothers in the world, you have all my love. To my two stepsons, you are the greatest.

Special acknowledgments to Tamia Guenard, Yolanda Casimere-Beraud, Samuel Latiker, Jennifer McCary for their patience and dedication in the preparation of my book. To Sandra Dixon, without you I could not have succeeded in learning about computers—for every time I called you about a computer problem, you were there doing what you did best, and that was giving your heart; I thank you. To Patricia Andrew, you are an angel sent from God. Thank you for being the best PR person an author could have. Your love will always be engraved in my heart, thank you.

To Debbie Water and Sean Scott, thank you for your kindness during the most difficult time of my life. To Dawne Orgeron, you gave me your ears and your heart and listened as I shared to you my pain and sorrow. You will never be forgotten, thank you.

To Pamela Toca for your artwork, you were never too busy to take time and draw a picture I needed, and to Doris Harris for reading my work and giving me the best advice on writing. Both of you are not only my sisters but also my friends, thank you from my heart. Thanks to Carlene A. Barthe for reading my book and for your willingness to help.

To Kashanta Harris for the time and effort you put into my book. You are an angel, love you much.

Special Thanks    Butterfly%20(edited).jpg

I have never been embraced with so much love than I have received from the New Orleans Counseling Service Unit (CSU), Team Support Group for Firefighters, and EMS. From the first day I walked into Larry Carbo’s office to apply for a job with the CSU team, it has been like a dream. I’d like to thank Larry Carbo for believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.

To Pamela Carbo, thank you for embracing me with love and kindness.

To Gary Carbo, my partner, we rode together every day, and we became known as Salt and Pepper—I have grown to love and care for you so much because you became my family.

Jo-Jo Rigney, who took care of me and gave me so much when I didn’t have anything, you stepped in and blessed me with everything I needed for my very first apartment. Thank you for all the love.

The First Responders Team (CSU) as a whole, I love you, guys, so very much. I will carry all of you in my heart. Thank you for all the love.

To Teresa J. Kehoe, you are the sunshine in my life. Thanks for reading my book and blessing me with your kindness. I love you.

When You Went Away

You had so much to achieve

But your heart wouldn’t allow you to believe

Sometimes you were like the stormy rain

Buried inside was all of your pain

You were finally getting your applause

But you died without a cause

So many obstacles placed in your pathway

Blinding you from seeing brighter days

So many dreams left unfulfilled

I only wish you had the strength and the will

To see the rising of the sun

Believing that your life had only begun

Your voice so strong and deep

I only hear it in my sleep

To have had this man I call son

So full of fire, hotter than the sun

I heard your cry for peace

Willing the pain to cease

Only the darkness gave you joy

But mother misses her little boy

Rest on, my son, rest on

You have a home you can call your own

On the day you went away

About the Author    Butterfly%20(edited).jpg

Joanne Stampley is a native of New Orleans, Louisiana—one of twelve siblings of the late Mildred Hutcherson. Raised in poverty, she is no stranger to suffering. She is a mother of three children: Tonyia W. Esquilin, Kewana D. Warren, and the late Robert C. Floyd IV. She is the proud grandmother of six grandchildren: Christopher, Tarazz, Kiara, Alicsia, Carlos, Amaiya. And she has two stepsons: Alexander and Arnaz Stampley Junior.

Joanne graduated from George Washington Carver Senior High School, then began her career in the medical field. Joanne worked at Mercy Hospital as an emergency room technician for nine and a half years. She attended the Jefferson Parish Vocational Technical School for Emergency Medical Technician. She was employed with the New Orleans Health Department Emergency Medical Service as a 911 dispatcher/EMT-B.

Joanne’s goal is to spread the word of what happens to a child when he or she is exposed to violence at a young age. Her son was two when his father put a shoe in his hand and told him to hit his mother with it. By the time her son was seven, his father left, but what he had learned at two years old, he carried to his adulthood. Domestic violence is indeed a learned behavior while your children are watching.

In 1995, Joanne began her writing career and achieved a certificate for fictional writing from Writer’s Digest and Long Ridge Writers Group. Recently, she added to her education by completing phase one and two of self-publication and entrepreneurial development training coursework in the winter and spring of 2002-2003 through the Four Walls Eight Windows Publishing Group.

Joanne graduated with honors from this elite program and elected to continue her entrepreneurial training. For the past six years, Joanne’s poetry has been published in the International Library of Poetry. She is the winner of four Editor’s Choice Awards.

Joanne Stampley appeared on Eyes on the Enterprise, with Mr. Eugene Green at Cox Channel 8 to promote her upcoming book, My World of Poetry.

Introduction    Butterfly%20(edited).jpg

Freedom, My Son took place in New Orleans, Louisiana. A place people referred to as the city that never sleeps. The birthplace of Jazz and the New Orleans Saints. New Orleans can be an exciting place to live, but for this mother, it was a struggle just to get by day after day.

Jolene had endured domestic violence for ten years. She had hoped that by getting out while she could and while her children were young enough, it would make a difference in their lives and save them from experiencing the horrible ordeal. She was wrong, because

Freedom, My Son will show you how children could be exposed to violence at such a young age and how it would carry into their adulthood.

For every mother, Freedom, My Son is a reflection of all of our lives. This remarkable book will show the grief, losses, and coping with the reality that we sometimes deal in life with unbearable pain.

The cycle began with her mother that lived a violent life with her father. Jolene thought that this was a normal way for husbands and wives to live. She thought that if she could get her children out of that relationship early, it would make a difference, but her son was watching and learning with each fight and fuss.

He was taking mental notes and seeing how much control his father had over his mother and the fear she carried. In his mind, he believed that violence was a good thing, and he would always have control.

Freedom, My Son tells the story of the author’s own experiences of domestic violence and how it affected the male child of her family. Not only domestic violence is addressed, murder-suicide OR murder/suicide is an issue as well.

As you read this story, the author hopes that if any woman has a child that is involved in an abusive marriage or relationship, she can see how it has an effect on the children.

Readers, listen to the warning signs of your children like violent behavior, giving up on life, their actions in school, or aggressiveness toward their mother. Then you need to get out or get help.

I hope this book, Freedom, My Son, will be in every bookstore in the United States and abroad.

Foreword    Butterfly%20(edited).jpg

I will open rivers in high places, and fountains in the midst of the valleys: I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water. I will plant in the wilderness the cedar, the shittah tree, and the myrtle, and the oil tree; I will set in the desert the fir tree, and the pine, and the box tree together.

—Isaiah 41: 18-19

Joanne, you have experienced some very tough times. You have had your share of life’s ups and downs. You have been through the valleys and the wilderness. You have experienced the desert without water or shade—not even a tree to rest upon. But God, through his grace and tender mercies, brought you through. In your most difficult moments, he gave you a river of peace. In your times of grief and despair, he gave you a fountain of joy. In your seasons of bewilderment and confusion, he gave you a sense of direction and hope. In your state of loneliness, he gave you comfort and love. In your times of doubt and uncertainties, he gave you courage and the strength to go on. He took what was impossible and made it possible. He turned your sorrows into joy, your crying into laughter, your frowns into smiles, and your bitterness to sweetness. He took what was meant for evil and worked it for your good. He bestowed upon you wisdom and gave you courage to share your experiences in your book Freedom, My Son.

Your big sister,

Doris Harris

Prologue    Butterfly%20(edited).jpg

This moment was the most devastating moment of Jolene’s life. She sat on the sofa in her living room waiting to hear from her son, any kind of news as to his whereabouts. A young man had been found dead in her home, on the floor near the foyer area in the living room, and Ronald was a definite suspect.

Unfortunately, Ronald was missing, along with his wife, Tass, and one-year-old daughter, Rose. Jolene’s home was crawling with the police and FBI. She sat on the sofa trembling, in shock, watching with a look of disbelief.

Oh God, where are they? her heart cried out. And once again the tears began to roll down her panic-stricken face. The FBI had been called in because they believed Ronald had crossed the state line with his family, and he was considered armed and dangerous.

Jolene’s mind couldn’t fathom the armed and dangerous part. This was not her son; they were on the television and radio, talking about Ronald as if he was a fugitive. In reality, he was a fugitive running from justice.

They were asking if anyone had any information or had seen a brown 1996 Nissan Sentra to notify the police. The radio announcer was giving out Ronald’s license number when Jolene noticed the FBI putting a tap on her phone to monitor all incoming calls.

Charles Anderson Sr., Jolene’s fiancé, was sitting next to her on the sofa, also in disbelief, as he was trying to comfort her. Jolene laid her head back, resting it on the back of the sofa; she looked over at Charles, his hair was cut low, and he still wore his blue uniform from Bennie’s Auto and Repair Shop, where he worked as the head mechanic.

Jolene leaned her head on his broad shoulders and allowed his strong arms to embrace her and take away today’s disaster. The phone rang, breaking into her thoughts and echoing off Jolene’s heart. The FBI agent, a man in his mid-thirties, wearing a brown suit, white shirt, and a brown tie, signaled for Charles to pick up the phone, but to her disappointment, it was not her son, only one of his friends calling in astonishment at today’s event.

The house Jolene and Charles lived in was a comfortable three-bedroom home in what was called New Orleans East on Bywater Street. It had a huge backyard with four big pine trees. The front yard was large and very well kept, with at least five magnolia trees, in a very subtle and quiet neighborhood.

Charles leaned over and whispered in Jolene’s ear, All the years I’ve lived here alone, I have never had the police at my home. It wasn’t said out of anger, just in despair.

Jolene looked around the room that was still crawling with the police and FBI agents, and the news media was still outside on her front lawn. Once again, Jolene laid her head back and closed her eyes, expecting to hear her son’s voice in any minute now.

She was waiting to hear his voice as he cried for help. He had been in so much pain recently, he looked exhausted. Jolene had seen Ronald struggling and battling the war going on inside of him that morning. She had planned to have a long talk with him when she got home that evening from work.

Yes, he will call me, he has always called his mother, Jolene said to herself.

She never thought in her wildest dreams that she would be in such a situation where the police and the FBI would be looking for her son.

Memories of her little boy came to mind, but at the moment, she couldn’t hold on to those memories, because she kept hearing words like murder, fugitive, roadblocks, homicide, and kidnap.

Her head began to spin as she wished for this nightmare to be over and for everything to go back to normal, but she knew that normal would never be normal again.

The sun would go on shining, but never normally, the rain would fall, and laughter would be heard, but never normally. Birds would continue to sing, and all the pleasant things in life that were once enjoyable would be less enjoyed.

Oh, God! Where are they? Jolene questioned. "If only things were different." She had tried to be both mother and father to her son. Father when he needed discipline and mother when he needed love, a hand to hold, or just a hug. She laid her head back, once again resting on the back of the sofa, and her mind traveled back in time.

Chapter One    Butterfly%20(edited).jpg

The Escape

I did it, I did it, and he didn’t suspect a thing, Jolene said out loud as she clutched the steering wheel so tight that her fingers felt cramped. She drove her two-tone brown Ford LTD across the interstate heading east toward the Michoud Boulevard exit in New Orleans. This morning, Jolene had planned to leave her husband, and he had no idea of what she was doing. After dropping him off at work, she was moving into her own apartment.

It was a cool, breezy Monday morning in February; the white clouds hung in the light blue sky painting a beautiful winter picture, but Jolene’s nerves felt out of control because she was getting the hell out of a house that was never home. As tears formed in her eyes, she was remembering all the pain and agony he put her and her children through.

Keeping her eyes on the road, she couldn’t help the tears from falling as she thought, Another failed marriage. With all her effort she put into the marriage, it still failed. Her husband would not allow her, or her children, to be happy or enjoy the beautiful home they had built together.

So today, she kept her cool and was careful not to overplay the plan to get away from him. She dropped him off at Aaron’s Auto and Repair Shop where he worked. The shop was located on Louisa Street, in the Ninth Ward, one of the oldest neighborhoods full of generational businesses and homes.

Back in 1912, New Orleans was sectioned off into wards for political reasons such as voting for elections. The wards would range from 1 to 17. The wards remained permanently as part of New Orleans history. Even today, it is not uncommon to be identified socially by the ward where you lived. Jolene lived mostly in the Ninth Ward, which was considered lower- and upper-class neighborhoods.

After leaving Aaron’s Auto and Repair Shop, Jolene took the interstate, traveling east on her way home. Her mind began to travel back to the abuse her first husband put her through; she thought of all the fights and even the rapes she had endured. Stop, this is too painful to think about, Jolene said to herself. But the memory wouldn’t let her go, and she began to think about her first marriage.

Ronald Freeman III was her first husband, and they had met while she was still in high school. Jolene had learned from a friend she attended church with that Ronald had his eyes on her for some time, and she was flattered.

When she met him, she did not find him attractive. He was tall, dark, and slim; his upper arms were muscular. Strong arms, Jolene had thought. She saw that he had full lips and imagined them kissable. He wore his black hair short and had high cheekbones; he had a deep voice like Barry White. It was his voice that captured Jolene, and the first year they dated was the best year she ever had in her life.

Jolene was five feet two inches tall and wore her short hair in a curly style. She had big brown eyes, a shy smile, and a very nice figure; she did not consider herself beautiful, but she knew she was attractive. Ronald was five feet eleven, and she loved his height and believed that he would always protect her if needed. But she never thought that it was him whom she would eventually need protection from.

Jolene came from a family with a very strong religious background and was taught that a woman should be married before she decided to have children. Their first year together was blissful until Ronald started pressing her to take their relationship to the next level. Jolene felt she was not ready, but she was in love and didn’t want to lose him. So she gave in, and before she realized what was happening, she found herself pregnant, and That was when the abuse started.

The only thing Jolene could say for herself was that she had managed to finish high school. As time went on, Jolene had two more children, and she and Ronald got married when her youngest child was eleven months old. Being