A Family Full of Secrets and Lies

By Kathleen Crowford

This story tells of rape, molestation, inhumane punishment, brutal acts of inconceivable horror, and unbearable torment. What makes it even more horrific is that these vicious, insane crimes were all committed by the hands of their own biological father.

You will cry as you hear their stories. You will sit in awe as you read page after page of an evil man whose character and nature can only be described as that of Satan himself.

How could this happen? How could cruelty go unnoticed, when the children, as they tell their story, had to go to school, with their blouses sticking to them because of the blood that would seep through the open wounds and welts all over their innocent little bodies? Where are they now? What is life like for them now? There is no happy ending for some of them that we all would hope to read about. But their desire is to bring attention to the many other families and children like us. The last request of our dying mother was for someone out of her children to please tell our story not so much for us now but for other families or individuals that are going through this sort of thing right now, for them to know that they are not alone. No matter what it looks like, you are going to come out of this. There is help for you. There is hope for you as long as there is breath in your body. Dont be afraid. And please do notI repeat, do notbe ashamed to go get help. Get help for the abused, get help for the lost, get help for the broken. Come now, walk with us, as we share our story of a family full of secrets and lies . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 14, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479740536

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Copyright © 2012 by Kathleen Crowford.

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Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1   Mommy, Why Did You Choose Him over Me?

Chapter 2   No One Ever Came to Help Me

Chapter 3   A Diamond in the Rough

Chapter 4   I Did Not Ask for This

Chapter 5   Daddy, I’m Not an Animal, I’m Your Son

Chapter 6   Dad, You Got Hell to Pay for What You Did

Chapter 7   It Would Have Been Better if I Was Never Born

Chapter 8   Because of You, I Went through Hell on Earth

Chapter 9   As Far as I’m Concerned, I Have No Parents

Chapter 10   A Beautiful Couple That Destroyed Innocent Lives

From The Desk of the Author   Why Pray for Forgiveness

and Repentance (Why Should We Even Forgive?)

This book is dedicated to, first, my mother, the late Ms. IHC, a woman who spent most of her life encountering a series of tragic events of one abuse after another but was able to find her only source of peace of mind in her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ; then to my siblings, who witnessed firsthand and experienced the identical lifestyle as our mother; finally, to many victims who has suffered similar sexual, physical, and emotional abuse in the hands of people influenced by the demonic powers.

Though the many stories will not be individually identified, you will certainly be able to recognize the similarities of the suffering and pain, the familiar expression of hurt and devastation as a result of trying to cope with the horror of basic everyday living, looking, hoping, praying for help!

It is common to give thanks and to acknowledge those who were very instrumental in making it possible to complete this endeavor.

In conjunction with the inspirational people who offered support and encouragement, I also had those who projected negative responses, who fought on every hand to discourage me from completing my family story and my mother’s last request. So to those of you, I say thank you. It’s also because of you that made me even more determined to complete this story.

And to my children, all seven of you, I say thank you for your encouraging words and for believing in me. And to those of my siblings that said, You can do for you. Do it for all of us. We are praying for you, I say thank you. With your prayers and the Lord’s help, I made it. And to my cousin that said, I will do whatever I can to help you through this project, cousin, I say thank you for all your encouraging words.

And to my ex-coworkers and friends at RT Middle School, I say thank you to all of you who were so encouraging and inspiring as well. And to someone who is very special to me, not even knowing much of anything about my life but right away began to encourage me and pray for me. Thank you, my friend Mr. R. Cardwell.

And to a friend, my brother and a pastor, Rev. TMM, there have been many times we did not see eye to eye in everything and have had many of falling-outs. But when I shared with you what I was up against, you dove in with both hands and feet, and you did not stop until the very end, and for that I will always be grateful. Thank you.

Introduction

A wesome . Yes, when you think of the Sunshine State, you think of the south. You think of Florida. The first reaction you often hear from people both far and near is Awesome! Why not Florida! Florida is known to be one of the greatest tourist states in our country—beautiful sunshiny weather, tall and green palm trees, sweet and delicious oranges, repeated sports updates of the Florida Gators in the play-offs, or just winning another national college football championship. And oh, of course, who can forget the childlike fantasies of our own Disney World. Yes, when you think of Disney World, your mind can only project wonderful, joyous, and playful times. Whether you are walking around on the fabulous scenic grounds or just sitting down, enjoying great food or enjoying a live show, you can hear the sounds of laughter from both young and old, the many smiles of happiness, and countless tears of joy. It is a place where children can enjoy life’s pleasures of being young—the innocence on their faces as they hold hands to take pictures with their favorite cartoon characters. What a wonderful sight to see the multitudes of children safely away from any hurt, harm, or danger, not a care in the world, not of abuse or even neglect.

How can it be, though, that while all these wonderful things are happening, some are here in the south, moments, minutes, or even miles away writing another story just the opposite of the one just described. Could it be true? Or is it fiction that on any given night or day, you could walk by the home where nine children lived only to hear the sounds of heart-wrenching screams coming from the inside? At times they were forced to lie totally naked on the living room floor, in front of their other siblings, as they were relentlessly beaten with rifle butts, horsewhips, broken tree branches, or whatever weapons were readily available, which were used to criminally abuse these innocent children. This story tells of rape, molestation, inhumane punishment, brutal acts of unconceivable horror, and unbearable torment. What makes it even more horrific is that these vicious, insane crimes were all committed by the hands of their own biological father.

You will cry as you hear their stories. You will sit in awe as you read page after page of an evil man whose character and nature can only be described as that of Satan himself.

How could this happen? How could cruelty go unnoticed, when the children, as they tell their story, had to go to school, with their blouses sticking to them because of the blood that would seep through the open wounds and welts all over their innocent little bodies? Where are they now? What is life like for them now? There is no happy ending for some of them that we all would hope to read about. But their desire is to bring attention to the many other families and children like us. The last request of our dying mother was for someone out of her children to please tell our story not so much for us now but for other families or individuals that are going through this sort of thing right now, for them to know that they are not alone. No matter what it looks like, you are going to come out of this. There is help for you. There is hope for you as long as there is breath in your body. Don’t be afraid. And please do not—I repeat, do not—be ashamed to go get help. Get help for the abused, get help for the lost, get help for the broken. Come now, walk with us, as we share our story of a family full of secrets and lies . . .

Note: Names of people and places have been changed to protect the innocents.

T he title of this story is called A Family Full of Secret and Lies . Many years ago, before the Lord took my mother away from us, she had asked for someone among her children to write the story of our life. Well, for many years, I have been trying to pull myself together to start doing so, but I just could not make myself do it while she was still alive, because I felt it would really hurt my mother, and as far as I was concerned, she had been through enough hurt and pain. But now that she is no longer on this earth, nothing that is going to be said in this book can hurt her anymore. Now I am finally free to fulfill my mother’s request.

I am going to start back as far as I can remember. First of all, I need to say we were born into a family of incest and were abused physically, mentally, emotionally. You see, if anyone has ever seen The Color Purple, well, The Color Purple does not have anything on A Family Full of Secrets and Lies. I was about seven years old and had just come home from school one summer day, as any little child would do. I was glad to see my mom when I came home. But this day, my mother seemed to be so sad, and I could not figure out what was wrong with her. As I was looking up at her face, I saw tears running down her face. She was standing over the ironing board, ironing some clothes with one hand, and the other hand was in a sling tied around her neck, so I went up to her and said, Mommy, what’s wrong?

She made me want to cry, so she just looked at me and said, Nothing is wrong, baby. Go change your clothes and go play. So I did as I was told. Little did I know that my mother had been beaten up that day by my dad and he had sprained her arm and she could not move it. I found this out many years later when she decide to talk to me one day and told me about that and many other things that had happened in our family. Of course, by this time, I was a grown woman with children of my own. Going back to the childhood days, there were fourteen of us, nine girls and five boys. Now we did not all live in the same house or were all from the same mother and father. The first set of children by my dad was from my stepmother. He and she had five together, one boy and four girls, before I was even born, so I was told, and as I understand it, my dad was sent to jail for abusing my stepmom, my brother, and my sisters. When he got out of jail, he then left that city and state and went to live in another state, and I was told this is where he met my mom.

My mom had just left home from her dad and had two little girls of her own. She was not able to finish high school because my grandfather, her father, would have her and her sisters and brothers out in the tobacco fields and farming fields from sunup till sundown, and there wasn’t any time for school no matter how bad they wanted to go. When the time came to harvest the fields, they had to drop everything and harvest those fields. So I was told that my mother dropped out of school in the ninth grade and finally left home at the age of eighteen, and from what I was told, two of her sisters left with her. Of course, my mother was older than these two sisters, so she had to look out for them as well as her two girls. Now mind you, my mother had already gone through being abused by my grandfather, and little did she know that the abuse had only just begun. Now be mindful that my dad was born and raised in the Red Clay Hills of the Big G., as he would always talk about. But now when he and my mom met, she was living in a little town called Nowhereland, and he had not too long ago got released from jail where he had spent time for abusing his first family. Of course, my mother did not know much about him when they first met. My father swept my mother off her feet at first sight. I am sure, as time went on, she really got to know him for the devil he really was.

She wanted to throw him right back where she found him and run as fast as she could for her life. You see, my dad never looked his age, and he never told his age. My mother said that when she met him, he was six feet tall, a very high fellow, a very fair-skinned man, with beautiful, soft, shiny wavy jet-black hair. He was medium built and dressed to kill. In a young country girl’s eyes like hers, my dad was all that and more. He talked the talk and walked the walk and could do no wrong, so she thought, and we as women know just how that can happen, especially when we, first of all, have never been taught who Jesus is, have children out of wedlock, and don’t know which way to turn, done gave our gift away, which is our virginity. Now we are looking down on ourselves and thinking that no one else will want us and are asking ourselves, Who is going to want to raise another man’s child? Thank God, for times have changed. So now, after saying all this, can you see just how my dad was able to sweep my mom off her feet? Well, as the story goes on, my mom already had my two older sisters by two other different guys, and of course, my mom and dad got married, and then what do you know, they wasted no time in having me. Then after me, my brother, another brother, my sister, another brother, my sister, and one last brother, which made seven of us from my mom and dad together, and with my two older sisters, it made nine of us in all.

Well, as the story goes on, the nine of us all went through our own hell on earth at what was so called our home. There are times when I hear children crying because of child abuse and the media is crying for child abuse, and I often say to myself, Where were the media and child defense services when we, my siblings and I, were being truly abused? Not