Shielded by God’S Power: The Survival Kit: from Childhood Abuse into Adulthood

By Ivy Christian

Domestic violence as defined by the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence as the willful intimidation, physical assault, battery, sexual assault, or other abusive behavior that is used to overpower and control another person. Domestic violence takes on many forms, both visible and hidden. And according to studies, it affects one person every twenty seconds. Domestic violence is not a new problem in America, but one that has sadly existed for decades. And while the majority of victims are female, domestic violence knows no income bracket, demographic, age, race, or religion; domestic violence occurs in every facet of society. Despite the many groups working to help victims of domestic abuse, the problems persist.

Domestic violence is more commonly seen in situations where someone (the abuser) believes that behaviors such as physical, verbal, emotional, religious, sexual, or economical abuse is acceptable and justifiable. Adding to the perceived justification of abuse is the victims inability to see the denigrating acts as abuse. Then when they do identify the problem, they feel trapped by their circumstancesbe it due to fear, lack of funds, poor physical, or various psychological issuesand are unable to leave the situation.

More disturbing than the obvious problems of domestic abuse is that there have been connections made between domestic violencespecifically sexual abuse in childrenand satanic influences/forces. This type of abuse is referred to as satanic ritual abuse (SRA). The abuses suffered due to satanic influences are often more severe forms of physical and sexual abuse, especially in the form of child pornography, prostitution, and being used for snuff films. These abuse victims are often so brainwashed that they dont dare speak out. And while there are those who would like to ignore the connections between abuse and satanic forces, the fact remains that abuse is not something promoted in scripture! The believer is told to care for the helpless and to lift up the fallen, not knock them down and beat them up.

In homes where children are abused, they often grow up to become adults who struggle with relationships, authority figures, and problem-solving. Worse, abused children often become adult abusers, thus perpetuating the problem. Studies have also found that children who see their mother abused are more likely to develop PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). Also interesting is that there is now a correlation between childhood domestic violence and adult health conditions like arthritis, ischemic heart disease (IHD), chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), liver disease, irritable bowel syndrome, chronic pain, pelvic pain, ulcers, and migraines. Psychological challenges include depression, severe anxiety panic attacks, and a feeling of worthlessness.

As you read Ivys story, you will discover that she could easily be the poster child for domestic violence. She spent fifteen years living in a situation where mental, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse was part of her daily life. She then entered a marriage that ultimately, albeit differently, was more of the same.

But Ivys story does not end as it began. She heard about a Savior who loved her unconditionally. And while initially Ivy did not understand her Saviors love, in time, she learned the meaning of real love and acceptance. As you read her story, you will see how she looked and worked to eventually overcome the challenges brought on by domestic abuse.

If you have been abused or know someone who is or has been in an abusive situation, then Ivys story can help. It will provide hope and help as you see that while domestic abuse is horrific, there is One who can overcome the hold abuse has on a persons life.

Dont let abuse keep you or a loved one from enjoying life. Take the step now to begin the first day of the rest of your life.

Metadata: Surviving domestic violence does not come easy. Shielded by Gods Power reminds us that domestic violenc

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 11, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543435740

Ivy Christian

Ivy Christian is a wife, mother, and author. But more importantly, she is a Christ-follower and a survivor. Born in an era where children were to be seen and never heard, Ivy learned early on that she was viewed as unlovable and unwanted, except as a punching bag and a scapegoat for all things wrong real or imagined in her family. Ivys life did not begin in an environment where one might encounter abuse. Although born to an unwed, teenage mother, the first three years of her life were filled with love and laughter, patent leather shoes and frilly dresses, giggles with grandpa, time with grandma, carefree walks in the neighborhood and a feeling of joy. However, when Ivy was but three years old, life as she knew it ended. Ivys young mother decided that being saddled with a child was not for her. She brought Ivy to her brothers home where she instantly became the middle child of five. But having siblings is not all that changed. Instead of being loved and cosseted, Ivy became the brunt of cruel comments, abused in every way and made to feel inferior and inept. This abuse affected every aspect of her life not just throughout childhood but into adulthood. The emotional scars caused her to question her value, her intelligence, and her abilities. Ivys family moved multiple times throughout her life. For many people the frequent moves would have had an adverse effect, but those many moves taught her to adapt. This skill would become beneficial as an adult where moves, new job situations, and eventually travel outside the U.S. would occur. Yet, Ivy was never truly alone. In the midst of chaos, she found solace in the church services she could attend. Through singing hymns, she discovered One who loved her for who she was a bitter and broken person who believed she was unlovable and unworthy. At church, she found people who met her where she was and who began to teach her that she had value and was lovable. Yet, it was not until her adult years that she truly accepted the love of God and all that it encompassed. This love enabled her to forgive those who had caused her so much pain. Ivy is a survivor. Her journey through life has not be an easy one. Rather, she has faced being falsely accused, being taken advantage of in business transactions, and encountered significant struggles with both professional and personal relationships. But, despite the hardships there were times of joy and laughter, where others reached out to Ivy and showed her what real love and kindness meant. And, in time, Ivy learned the most powerful message of all the power of forgiveness. For, in learning to forgive those who had hurt her, she learned how to let go of the bitterness and began to heal. Today, Ivy shares the story of journey of healing. She has used her hardships and pains to help others who have been abused to heal. Like Joseph of the Old Testament, Ivy can say, You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good. (Gen. 50:20 NLT)

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 by Ivy Christian.

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.

NIV

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. [Biblica]

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 07/06/2017

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

761289

Book 2

On December 22, 1956, at twelve thirty, Pastor Bradshaw pronounced my high school sweetheart and me man and wife. I repeated my vows sincerely to God and Ed. The pastor gave an invitation: In twenty-five years, you come back and celebrate your silver anniversary with me and my wife as we celebrate our golden anniversary.

We sat in the car and breathed a sigh of relief! It had been anything but a dull morning. The sky had become cloudy, and it looked as though we were going to have snow on our wedding day and for Christmas. Ed suggested our first grocery shopping. Since the restaurant food didn’t agree with us, why don’t we stop by a supermarket for items and look for a motel for the night?

It felt as normal as if we had been doing it for fifty years. As I pushed the cart, my husband picked items that I had seen around his family’s kitchen: devil’s food cookies, bread, sandwich spread in a plastic tube, and soft drinks. We had an elegant wedding feast, squirting sandwich spread on bread and having devil’s food cookies for a wedding cake. Afterward, my husband pulled away when I tried to hug and kiss him.

Whenever I got in a difficult position, especially in childhood, I depended on Jesus, whom I knew loved me. When Ed got in bed and would not talk to me, I took my Bible out of the trunk and said, Remember, we agreed that we were going to start marriage by having devotions. Do you want to start now? He did not answer me or move the rest of the night.

Whoever said December 21 was the longest night of the year should have been with me in the evening of December 22; it was the loneliest. The lonely sounds of rain beating on the motel’s roof kept an old saying floating through my mind: If it rains on your wedding day, it will bring bad luck.

My new husband either slept or pretended to sleep when I tried to talk with him, and I went into the bathroom to ponder my situation. I sat for hours listening to the rain, crying, and realizing that I had made an awful mistake in getting married. I did not have to hurry home, and I was free to have sex, and now my husband was not interested.

I replayed the fact that I had mentioned the word pregnant, which had caused him difficulty. He had made two references to pregnancy in our dating: I knew when Mother finished nursing school we would spend more time together, and then she announced she was going to have a baby. I used to lie in bed at night and think of cutting the baby out of her stomach with a knife. Second, when Ed and I began talking about having children, he puzzled me when he said, Whenever we have a baby, I am going to give it to Mother until it is two years old.

I always replied, I would never give my baby to anyone.

That lonely long first night of marriage, sitting in the small bathroom, I pondered the words of wisdom his mother had given me. I had chosen to ignore them until now. I just want you to know that Ed does not know how to love. At the time, I thought, If you only knew! I wished she had taught me the difference between love and lust.

By daylight, I slipped back in bed, and my husband kissed me good morning. Since it had rained all night, I thought it was a joke when he went to the bathroom and shouted back, Look out the window at the beautiful snow.

We hurried to pack the car and started toward home. The only place we could find on Sunday morning for breakfast was the Trailways bus terminal. We took a booth by a great, large window that overlooked the snowy mountains, and it could not have been a more romantic scene if we had honeymooned in Switzerland.

When Ed pulled up in front of his parents’ home, he opened the door for me and grabbed my hand as if we were romantic newlyweds. In reality, we had only become good friends by getting married. I left town three days earlier madly in love and returned mad with nowhere to turn in my despair.

His families and relatives were bursting with excitement as we entered and showered us with hugs and gifts before we all sat down to a luncheon. It deeply touched me when I saw that my new mother-in-law had made a stocking to hang on the staircase with Ed’s and his sister’s stockings. We had been home for a few hours, and I had put off the worst trip of my life long enough.

Ed and I walked out the street and knocked on my family’s door. Susie invited us into the house. Ed and I shared the same chair in the living room, and finally, my parents came down the staircase. They sat on the couch across from us with a stare that made me feel dirty and cheap. We made small talk as long as possible.

I suggested that we should leave, and Ed reported, My parents would like to come out for a visit with you early on Christmas Eve. I saw that disapproving look on Mother’s face over having company, and Dad told us that would be fine.

It had been a long first day back home. Ed and I went to his room early, and it seemed normal getting into his bed. Pam, my new mother-in-law, came into the room to kiss her son good night and to see if we needed anything. When she asked to see my wedding nightgown, my self-esteem drained from my body. I felt overgrown, fat, and ugly around the beautiful petite woman.

As if being embarrassed about spreading the cheap yellow gown on the bed was not enough, Ed asked me to show his mother our fancy marriage license. I managed to disappoint my mother-in-law when I lied, I can’t seem to find the marriage license in this big trunk. I was not about to let her see the date and admit that I had spent the night with her son without being married.

On Monday, Christmas Eve morning, Ed left for work. That was the main reason we returned home early after getting married. At the time, it seemed important that he work the day before and after Christmas to get holiday pay. Later in the morning, I walked to Murphy’s to get the largest paycheck I had ever earned. I had to answer the many questions about my elopement before going next door to pay the jeweler for Ed’s wedding band.

That evening, all decked out in our Christmas attire, my in-laws were going to visit my family for the first time. Ed’s family was all dressed up in Christmas colors and sat on the pink couch. Ed and I shared the chair again and teased his family for the colorful picture of contrasting bright colors to the color of the couch.

Mother and Daddy stood near the floor furnace, which added to the strain and cold atmosphere. Daddy finally broke the ice when he went into the back bedroom, put on his red work vest, walked over, sat on the arm of the couch beside Richard, and told Ed, Here, if you want a Christmas picture, take one of these red vests and your dad’s red shirt.

As usual, no refreshments were offered. I had hoped, since Mother knew in advance that they were coming, she would have prepared something. When I had taken as much of the entire atmosphere as I could stand, I walked into the kitchen to tell Susie good-bye. She had to tell me, Friday night, when John heard that you eloped, he began crying and tried to get Mother to call the police to find you.

When I returned to the living room, Mother handed Ed three gifts for me. I said, We’ll come back tomorrow and open them.

She embarrassed me by demanding, Take them with you now! Susie followed me outside to let me know Mother kept the money Granddaddy Ooking had given for my wedding gift and had wrapped me three of her old full slips.

When we returned to Ed’s house, what a difference in the spirit of Christmas it was! Relatives were waiting for the party to begin. I sat in the living room relaxed because I did not have to worry about what time I had to get home.

After midnight, we went to bed so Santa could fill our stockings. The next morning, I had a baby doll, and Ed had a convertible car with a man and woman waving whenever you pushed the friction toy.

After a fantastic Christmas dinner, I walked out to see my family. This was the first time I faced John and Steve, and unbelievably, everyone acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I had only been gone four days, and already the family had trouble keeping everything going. Now that I wasn’t there to help prepare the Christmas feast, Mother purchased the turkey dinner from the supermarket. To add insult to injury, Dad promised Mother that he would get her an automatic washer and have the kitchen modernized. Susie added, When Mama heard about the remodeling project, she wanted to know why it wasn’t done while Ivy had to do the chores.

Speechless, I got up to leave, and Dad slipped me a $20 bill and said, You buy a gift from me.

Early the morning after Christmas, Ed left for work; and when the stores opened, I entered one of the better women’s shops. I tried on a long-sleeved brown sheath dress, and it fit me as if it had been custom-made. After purchasing the dress, I had enough left to buy a pair of brown ballerina flats and seamless nylons.

On December 27, the day of my bridal shower, I entered Jill’s house feeling like a million dollars in my new outfit. She pinned a corsage on my new dress, and her mother, Eliz, placed me in the seat of honor before thirty-eight schoolmates. The well-organized bridal shower of games, Russian tea, and cookies produced a carload of much-needed gifts.

On New Year’s Eve, my husband and I went ice-skating until we almost froze our fingers and toes. When we returned to his family, the relatives were arriving and beginning their celebration. Ed and I stood over the floor furnace thawing out.

For the first time, I saw the booze bottles on the kitchen table, and it took me by surprise when I was offered my first alcoholic drink. I had not prepared for such a time. Thinking that drinking was evil, I reacted like an infant and ran to Ed’s bedroom. The family seemed disappointed by my adolescent behavior.

Another immature behavior separated me from the family when, at the beginning of the second semester of my senior year, I passed my driver’s test. Right away, Ed suggested that I drive him to the railroad and then on to school. At the depot, I drove under the overhead bridge and through a one-way road like other wives to let my husband get out of the car. In the cool, crisp morning light, my husband’s gold wedding band shone as he shouted back, Have fun and don’t forget to come after me.

I drove twenty yards to the one-way lane, and an oncoming car slid on ice and cut my front fender as if someone had taken a can opener and cut back about eight inches. Of course, traffic backed up, and men were worried about being late for work; and unknown to me, someone recognized Ed’s car and told him.

Humiliated, I had to stop by the house and tell my in-laws. They did not appear to have any sympathy for my plight. So much for being a big shot with a car on campus, I walked to school.

That afternoon, when I got home, the family shared that Ed had called to see if I was all right and to tell me that he had a ride home. As if I was a child, I waited in our room until my husband came home from work to scold me. I heard him ask, Where is Ivy? Then he came up the steps two at a time. Hey, what’s the matter?

I wiped my tears, greeted him, and said, I’m really sorry about the accident.

It’s just metal. You’re not hurt, and that’s all that matters. Come on, take me for a drive.

I sobbed, No, I am afraid to drive.

Pulling me off the bed, he tenderly said, That is all the more reason for you to get back behind the wheel.

The next week, I had another crying spell in his room. He had volunteered to work the night shift at the railroad. At ten that night, he kissed me good night and left for work, and I felt too alone to go to sleep until the wee morning hours.

Except for the fact that I learned that he and some guys met to have beers before work at eleven, the shift worked well because he arrived home an hour before I had to leave for school and went to bed. When I returned, we usually went ice-skating or fishing or played tennis until it was time for his night shift.

January 21, 1957, was President Eisenhower’s second inauguration, and a lot had happened in my life during his four years of presidency. This time, I gathered with Ed and his family around their large-screen floor-model new television set to watch the festivities.

That afternoon, Dad sent Susie out to ask if we would like to live in Daddy’s trailer that he had used in Ohio and that he had parked in the side yard. She continued. He would like to know before he leaves so a water line can be dug to the house.

Ed decided we should go talk to him about a set amount of rent. However, Dad replied, We will talk about rent when Ivy graduates from high school.

While the water line was being dug, Ed’s uncle Deck showed up with another car. He said, I thought now that you are an old married guy, you’d need a big family car. We jumped in the big light green old 1952 DeSoto, and I immediately loved the car because it reminded me of my granddad Ooking’s light green Chrysler. Ed decided to take on the new monthly payments since he had a good job.

One morning as I stopped by the house to pick up Susie, she got in the DeSoto and told me, Mother saw you in this big car from the kitchen window, and she shouted, ‘Susie, here comes your rich relative.’

However, one morning she was not joking and scared me when she got in the car and halfway to school burst out crying, Daddy and Mother have been arguing all night. When I left, I heard him threaten to kill her. I turned the car around. I felt free enough at Ed’s house to take Susie into their kitchen for a cup of coffee, and we spent the school day cooking. Pam did not go to the hospital until three, but I could not remember anyone complaining about our takeover. However, I became scared when Susie got a spatula hanging in the beaters of the mixer while making a cake.

When the time came that Susie should have been home from school, she wouldn’t go home. I walked out the sidewalk and entered the house. Mother and Daddy were lying on the living room couch like lovebirds and were obviously disappointed to see me. Mother only said, We were looking for Susie.

Mother, I began, Susie was too upset to go to school today because you and Daddy were fighting.

Mother gave me the look that hurt my stomach because of my interference. At that moment, something came over me. I backed toward the French doors and screamed, You don’t know how to love any one of the children, and you have kept our nerves on edge by arguing and using us!

I backed out the front door and slammed it. I had cooled off by the time I got back to the kitchen. I told Susie, It is safe to go home.

Funny, now that we would be moving into the small trailer, I was glad that Mother had made me scrub the shower, floors, and walls and wax the paneling that hot summer in Ohio. At that time, I would have never dreamed that Ed and I would be making our home in that trailer.

With the water line installed, Ed and I went to the A&P to purchase groceries. I began by putting a twenty-pound bag of potatoes, three pounds of pinto beans, Carnation milk, flour, and fatback in the cart. It shocked me when my husband passed me with another cart and went to the meat counter. I stood and watched as he picked a pack of four pork chops, a slice of ham, and hamburger for chili or spaghetti. I asked, Who are you shopping for?

Ed shared, I like beans once in a while, but I cannot live on them. I walked off and left the cart with the memorized old items that Mother purchased every week. My new mother-in-law taught me the family’s secret recipes for chili and spaghetti, and now I would need training in cooking meat.

Ed’s work shift was changed to daytime while a man was on a weeklong vacation. I drove him to work before going on to high school. When I returned home from school, I decided to put a couple of pork chops under the broiler and go pick up my husband. When we pulled into the driveway, there were my pork chops and my new dish towels in the yard. Susie came out of the trailer shouting, I saw all the smoke and saved your trailer from burning up.

The next evening, I learned another lesson about setting the table. I got the food ready without burning them and set two saucers on the table. Ed went to the cabinet and got two large plates. He told me, In this family, we are going to eat off large plates. At home, the children always ate off saucers while the adults got the dinner plates. From that day forward, I thought of us as adults, not children.

For the first time since moving in the house that Granddad Ooking had built for our family, the spring rains flooded our yard and covered the hardwood floors of the first floor. Therefore, six weeks after moving into the trailer, the National Guard had to pull our trailer out of the yard.

Aunt Martha (my secret mother) invited Ed and me to spend the night at her new home that Granddad Ooking had built for her. Nothing would do but that Ed and I take her spacious master bedroom, private from the rest of the house. The luxury of sinking down on an excellent mattress with tight-fitting sheets and elegant bedspread, with matching window coverings, created a vacuum as if we were in a soundproof world without a care. For the first time in our marriage, the magic of our dating years returned, and we consummated our marriage during those spring rains.

If only friends and family had known, they could have talked me into having the marriage annulled during those first three months. In fact, every time I visited my parents, they expected the announcement that I was going to have a baby. My mother-in-law, Pam, told me, I’m going to put a sign on your back saying, ‘I am not pregnant,’ so the nurses at the hospital will stop asking me when you are having a baby. My friends at school were not as suspicious because I learned after I eloped that some of the couples were already secretly married. Some people did marry for more reason than having gotten pregnant.

One of the disadvantages of marrying while still in school was that I had lost interest in many of the school activities. For the first time, I had the luxury of purchasing school pictures, a yearbook, and all the extras that went along with being a senior, except now those items did not have any importance to me.

An unfortunate decision I had made was in choosing to take the commercial courses and then changing it to college preparatory to please the teachers and Dad. Outside of that request, the only time Dad mentioned my future was at the beginning of my senior year. I thought it strange when he volunteered to drive me to church one Sunday morning. As I prepared to get out of the car, he startled me by saying, Do you remember last summer when you applied at the Baltimore hospital to be a candy striper and they refused because you had to be available year-round?

I said, Yes, sir.

When you graduate from high school, why don’t you go back to that same hospital and reapply to be a candy striper?

Speechless at his suggestion, I managed to stutter before shutting the car door, I will think about it, sir.

Walking into the church, I asked myself the questions that I should have asked Daddy. Does he really think I can find my way back to Baltimore and to that hospital? Why does he want me back in Baltimore so badly?

After graduation, I went to the local college to register for a summer school class in business. When I received my schedule in the mail, I discovered I had been placed in Shakespearean literature, and I withdrew. My life had gotten too complicated, and I did not feel as if I could handle Shakespeare.

Mother turned in a two-week notice at Murphy’s and leased the neighborhood corner market by the ball field. Every time she saw me, she would give me a chore to do, and I felt I had to oblige since we were living in her yard; she had me under her thumb again because I feared saying no to her. Mother’s demands became too much, and Ed began looking for another place to live.

We made an appointment to view a thirty-two-foot-long trailer for sale by the owner and already situated in a park. It looked like a mansion compared to the twenty-seven-foot one we currently lived in. Best of all, it was three miles from both of our families. We had to borrow the $300 down payment, but we could afford the monthly payments. However, when we went into debt, instead of pork chops and ham, we ate hot dogs, beans, and sauerkraut.

The only person who would talk to us concerning a loan was Ed’s uncle, who had an ulterior motive. He had signed a contract to install the electrical wiring in a new subdivision and made a bargain with Ed. I will advance you the down payment, and you can pay it back by providing labor when you get home from the railroad in the mornings. We were excited to get our own place, and Ed gladly accepted the offer.

The extra five feet of space in the new trailer seemed like living in a big house. Unfortunately, my working husband was not awake or home enough to enjoy it. Because of the years I had to stay in the house, it felt natural to stay home and clean. Sometimes I watched game shows or visited family and occasionally stopped by the corner grocery. Mother passed the word around that she did not want me hanging around the store because I could not be trusted. Whenever I purchased items, she made a big deal out of charging me full price while referring to the fact that she gave some of the neighbors’ discounts.

I knew from the many years of helping Mother have meals ready when working men came home from work that I should have breakfast ready when Ed arrived at seven in the morning from the railroad. Immediately after eating, his uncle blew the truck horn for him to go to work. When lunchtime arrived, I had lunch ready for him. He went to bed for the next eight hours and ate dinner before leaving for the night shift.

Since I had all my chores finished by midafternoon, while Ed slept, I used the car to visit and run errands. One afternoon, a friend invited me to a community chicken dinner at the park. The first person I saw when I arrived was Aunt Emma, eating at a picnic table. I stopped to speak, and a noise came from a large box by her feet. I asked, What’s in that box?

She replied, Hey, look inside. It’s all yours. I opened the lid and eye to eye faced a black-and-white part-beagle puppy. I fell in love with it.

Ed had told me not to bring another pet home since our parakeet, Pete, flew out the trailer door. Aunt Emma promised, Take the puppy home, and if Ed doesn’t want it, I promise to take it back.

When Ed got out of bed, he asked the $64,000 question. What is moving in that box?

I teased, I brought you a chicken dinner from the park.

As he walked toward the box, he said, All I need is a live chicken. When he lifted the lid, from the look on his face, I knew the puppy had a home. Because we had fallen in love to Benny Goodman’s records, he named our new four-legged baby Benny.

The puppy fit into life in our trailer, where it appeared that teenagers lived. We could not eat at the table because a model airplane was being constructed on it, and shortwave equipment was strung around the window. However, the great thing for me was the dog gave Ed and me something in common, along with our sports activities.

Once the obligation was paid in full to his uncle, whenever the weather permitted, Ed and I began fishing, ice-skating, or playing tennis in the afternoons before he left for work. He had even surprised me with a matching fishing rod and reel for my graduation gift from high school.

It felt strange staying home from school when the fall 1957 term began. September found civil rights to be the foremost and pressing domestic problem. President Eisenhower sent federal troops to a Little Rock, Arkansas, high school to enforce the law of desegregation. The Supreme Court, led by Chief Justice Earl Warren, ruled on May 17, 1954, that segregation was unconstitutional.

Added to the news, on October 4, the Soviets shocked the world with the launch of Sputnik 1, the first satellite to orbit the earth. I had to surrender the idea that reaching the moon in our lifetime was impossible when the Sputnik 2 and the dog named Laika were launched. What we had not visualized in our excitement of the space program was that, in the future, Ed’s electronic home course would make him a part of the United States space project.

Most nights, after my husband left for work, I watched the late news and the first half of The Tonight Show with host Steve Allen and later Jack Paar and his wisecracking sidekick, Dody Goodman, before going to bed.

Early on Friday, October 11, 1957, while in a deep sleep, the telephone rang. I answered and heard Susie say, I have bad news to tell you! Last night, Ray was killed while drag racing with another car.

I had been a professional mourner and coffee server as a child, but this was my first experience of the death of someone I knew so well. I wanted to be alone, and I hung up so I could scream. Later, when Ed came into the dark house where there was no breakfast waiting, he found me sobbing. When I gave him the news, we consoled each other as we read the horrible account in the newspaper:

Twenty-One-Year-Old Dies Instantly; Two Others Injured; Police Seeking Three in Connection with Crash

The victim died of crushing chest injuries, and the prints of the steering wheel could be seen on his body, officers stated. He was thrown from the front seat to the backseat of his car by the impact.

Around midnight, Ray lined up at the foot of the hill with a couple of passengers in his Oldsmobile beside a buddy in another Olds. When they took off, Ray passed his opponent, and an oncoming Chevrolet appeared over the hill, toward him. At 80 miles per hour, he didn’t have a chance to get back in his lane, and he was the only one killed. The impact knocked the front wheels off the stolen Chevy; it overturned and slid on its top for 155 feet. Ray’s car slid about 165 feet up the hill and backward over a 20-foot embankment.

I cringed when I read, An occupant of the Chevy was last seen walking over the hill, carrying his shoes. It had only been sixteen months since I had lost my shoe when I wrecked his car.

I wanted to know if Ray suffered before he died! Was he afraid? The only thing that helped me keep my emotions under control was to keep thinking about something Mrs. Elmer had told us in Sunday school when someone asked, What is it like to die?

She had replied, Have you ever fallen asleep in the car and awakened in bed, and you don’t remember how you got there?

Most people in the class said, Yes.

Well, she said, that could be what it’s like to die. You fall asleep and wake up in heaven.

The next month, other concerns filled the airwaves with President Eisenhower recovering from a mild stroke. The news became personal with news of a business recession because Ed had heard rumors that the Virginian Railroad might shut down in our town. However, our love for the holidays kept our focus on food and decorations. As soon as Thanksgiving dinner was consumed, Ed began working on Christmas decorations for our trailer.

On December 21, 1957, we celebrated our first anniversary with Ed’s family. However, the next evening, we celebrated our real anniversary ice-skating and warming ourselves by a fire in a barrel. I could only skate if Ed and I held hands; otherwise, I sat by the fire and watched him skate backward, perform a figure eight, and jump over a barrel lying on the side.

On New Year’s Day 1958, I prepared a fresh batch of pimento cheese for my husband’s lunch box. I must have overdone it because, two days later, he walked into the trailer to announce, By the time the pimento cheese is used up, I will be unemployed and will draw out my retirement for one year.

The Virginian Railroad had been sold to the Norfolk and Western, which had been the bread and butter of the community for one hundred years. I could not believe it would ever move or shut down, especially now that I depended on it for our livelihood and one day to buy a house and raise children.

There were over 1,400 employees cut off because the railroad replaced the steam engines with diesel engines. Ed and I drove to Norfolk, Virginia, to see if his uncle could get him a job, but they were cutting off from the railroad there also. We learned the hard way why relatives were against us in investing in the trailer. The trailer was only one-third paid, and we would not be able to afford to continue to make the payments with the unemployment check. Our pride took a beating.

The army launched an artificial earth satellite at the end of the month. The focus on the orbiting Explorer 1 took our minds off our failure when Dad revealed the secret that he had a house in a small river town on the Ohio River.

He convinced us to take our fishing rods and combine a vacation with looking for work at the Kaiser plant. We traded the aluminum awning off our trailer for a U-Haul and packed everything we owned. Before getting on the turnpike, Ed dropped the house trailer key by the dealer and told them we could no longer afford the payments. In silence, we drove with the U-Haul behind our DeSoto toward Ohio.

Daddy had given us directions to travel through Race along a two-lane road at dusk with the Ohio River on our right-hand side. From the general store, the directions showed a turn left into the fifth driveway to the house. In the dimness of the evening, Ed and I sat in the driveway staring in disbelief at the two-story old white house, which needed fixing up badly.

On the right side of the house, there was a large tree with a collapsed building beneath it and a yard with no grass. To the left was a large side yard with a strawberry patch and room for a garden. We got out of the car and walked around the back to find an outhouse that sat at the foot of the hill, leading straight up to a mountain. When we returned to find our dog hiding under the car, whining, we knew this place was definitely spooky.

When I refused to go next door to get the key to the house, Ed said, Wait in the car. I will be right back.

I cried, No! There is no way I will spend the night in a haunted house.

Ed got in the car. I directed as Ed backed the trailer out onto the narrow hard road, and we headed back toward home. In record time, we reached the other side of Race before slowing down and breathing normally.

Suddenly, out of the quietness of the night, a truck came up behind us with its horn blaring. Through the side mirror, Ed saw an old pickup truck and said, Someone is motioning for me to pull over.

I demanded, Do not stop this car! You better keep driving.

Finally, he said, I have to stop and find out what they want.

When he pulled off the road, a tall unkempt woman with long dark hair and in tattered clothing walked up to the window. She smiled a toothless smile and shouted, Boy, you were making some time. I had trouble catching you.

Ed asked, Why are you following us?

This time, her smile looked friendlier. I live next door to your house, I saw you leave without coming to get the key, and I jumped in my truck. She leaned down, looked at me. About an hour ago, your dad called to see if you had arrived. She commanded with much authority, Now turn this rig around and follow me back to the house.

I told Ed, There is no way you are taking me to a haunted house.

He said, It’s scary, all right, but let’s at least give it a chance for your dad.

We arrived back in the driveway; the woman had the front door unlocked and the lights on. I could not believe my eyes when I saw the living room with ten inches of newspapers on every table and on the floor. In my ignorance, I did not realize we were in an antique paradise. I heard the neighbor woman tell Ed, My husband is a seaman and is coming home tonight. I need to go and finish cooking his supper. I will be back in the morning and take you for a load of coal. By the way, the john is in the backyard.

Ed, Benny, and I went out the back door to the smelly john that had inches of newspapers on the floor. I sat down, and right in front of me, I saw an ad on a newspaper: Zest makes you feel really clean.

Ed locked us in the house and revealed his plan. I think we have the advantage upstairs if anyone would happen to come in the house.

He picked up flashlights and chose a tool in case he needed a weapon. I stopped on the first step, whining, I want to go home.

He laughed and replied, This is home.

On that cheery note, I ran up the steps and stayed close to my husband as he shone the light across all the large old Victorian antiques. He chose the small front bedroom for our campsite, and we huddled close for security and warmth.

Sometime during the night, listening to unfamiliar noises, we dozed off to sleep. Suddenly, a loud noise and bright lights flashing back and forth awakened us. Quickly, Ed and I were standing straight up in the middle of the room with Benny at our feet. It happened again. It took a few seconds to get our brains functioning before Ed walked toward the window with dog and wife holding on to him.

Straight across the street, a barge with a searchlight and foghorn passed in the night on the Ohio River. The crew would never know the scare they gave two frightened people and a dog. We lay back on the floor, held each other until daylight, and then went downstairs to make coffee.

Just as she promised, our friendly neighbor pulled in the driveway, blew the horn, and shouted, Get in the truck. We’re going for coal.

Ed locked the dog in the house and begged, Ivy, please get in the truck. I climbed in beside this helpful, strong woman, all the while wondering if I would ever see my dog again.

The woman drove the old truck hard and fast around curves, rocking and rolling and rattling. When she pulled under a coal chute, she instructed Ed to position the chute so the coal would hit the bed of the truck. From inside, the noise sounded as if the coal would finish off the truck. Then I heard her screams. Close the chute! Close the chute! The coal is beating dents in the hood of the truck.

Our new friend taught us how to build a fire in the coal furnace, and Ed spent the rest of the morning shoveling coal from her truck through a basement window. I finally went into the house by myself and began gathering newspapers until we had a clean place to sit.

The fireplace in the living room also opened into the dining room, and since the kitchen was the next room, I planned to make us a three-room apartment. I had the idea that a bedroom with a fireplace would be romantic.

We dragged the large old, antique dining room set to the back of the house and then pushed a large old, antique bedroom set into the former dining room. After that, Ed hooked up our fourteen-inch television (which Daddy had given us when he got the family’s seventeen-inch) in the living room, and our apartment began to feel like home.

With a fire blazing in the master bedroom’s fireplace, I took a country bath, put on a favorite record, turned the lights low, and appeared in my yellow wedding nightgown. I had finally captured a scene and sat in my new husband’s lap.

To my dismay, he sat there and made no response. I recalled the times when we had been together at the drive-in theater and he would watch other couples instead of kissing me. Confused and frustrated, I cried myself to sleep in front of the fire.

The next morning, I vented my anger on the dirty kitchen and then walked to the general store to purchase white paint, curtains, wax, and cleaning supplies. The rest of that week, I worked my frustrations out with a brush, broom, and mop. My husband, the handyman, hung curtain rods, and I hung the new red and white curtains, which matched the breakfast table and chairs. I opened our wedding gifts, lined the shelves with a set of red flower glasses and canister sets, and placed cast-iron skillets on the stove. The freshly painted room looked like a picture out of Better Homes to me.

On Sunday, we visited the little country church. The people were friendly, and we began to feel more at home. On Monday afternoon, Daddy drove two hours out of his way back to work to check on us. For the first time, I saw an expression of approval as he walked through our cozy three-room apartment. The instant transformation of the house inspired him to ask Ed if he would consider installing bathroom fixtures. The previous owners had built a bedroom and another room for a bath on the back of the house.

We learned that Daddy purchased the house when he took his trailer home for us to live in. Now he would be working two hours away and live in a motel. When he went out the door, he threw a rock across the road and asked us, How many people can stand on their front porch and throw a rock into the Ohio River?

That afternoon, we bundled up to go across the street, sit on the riverbank, and fish. Anytime we were on the bank, when the school bus passed, neighborhood children shouted out the windows, We’ll be right over to fish with you. Late one cold evening, with the assistance of the children, we caught over ninety skipjacks, cleaned them until late into the night, packed them in an ice cooler, and left for Ed’s home, bearing fish.

When we arrived back at the house on the river, the smell of spring filled the air, and nothing would our next-door friend do but plow our garden. She taught us that, besides the garden, the large strawberry patch also had to be weeded, and she explained, The previous owners made a lot of money selling strawberries. I spent hours on my hands and knees weeding while Ed took down the old building on the other side of the house and planted grass.

The neighbors invited us to attend the early spring revival starting at the local church. The first night there, I laughed to myself as I listened to my husband talking with the men about how many rows of corn were planted.

After summers sitting in tent revivals listening to sermons on hell, this revival pastor got to me by referring to the smell of sulfur in hell. It haunted me to the point that I could not sit and watch the fire burn in the fireplace. This renewed my grieving over Ray’s death. I did not know how to go to heaven when I died and avoid the burning hell.

After the revival, the men invited Ed to come to the parsonage on Saturday morning and help put on a new roof. I couldn’t remember why I drove him into town and kept the car. Nevertheless, I let him out, promised to pick him up at noon, and went home to wash the dishes, make the bed, and shampoo my hair.

With shampoo lather piled high on my head, I heard a door shut, and suddenly there stood Daddy in the kitchen. I froze! I talked myself into staying calm. Then I screamed, Oh no, what time is it?

Daddy answered, Eleven o’clock.

I wrapped my head in the towel and told him a lie. I am late in picking up Ed. I will be right back.

When Ed saw me sitting at the curb, he came off the roof and asked, Why are you an hour early and wearing a towel on your head?

I asked, Is it possible for you to go home early? Daddy is there! Ed smiled, told me to wait a minute, and went to tell the men that he had to leave. He understood.

A week after we had gotten married, he had inquired one night, What did you want to tell me once we were married? I was not ready to tell him, but he pressured me. I didn’t insist on you telling me the secret while we dated. At least you should tell me now.

At his insistence, I gave him a brief account of how, when I was six years old, Daddy had raped me and how I had to go to court because he and Mother accused an innocent man. He thought for a few minutes before replying, You would think if animals protected their young, at least a mother would also.

Understanding my fear of being alone with Daddy, Ed walked back to the car and teased, Slide over, Ms. Towel Head. When we arrived home, I left the two men watching television, went to the kitchen to rinse my hair, and fixed soup and sandwiches for lunch.

An even greater surprise came the following Saturday when Steve showed up on the front porch. He had completed his military service and been accepted at Ohio University in Athens. He invited us for the world’s best pizza in a nearby town.

Before leaving, the three of us went to the back washroom to wash our faces and hands and comb our hair before leaving. However, I became ill when my husband stripped nude and began washing his body in front of Steve and me. No amount of shaking my head stopped him. Humiliated, I felt hate for him and hurried off to the kitchen.

If my husband offended my brother, he didn’t show signs of it and invited us to tour his college campus on Monday morning. I loved the campus, town, and quaint shops. Ed inquired, but there were no jobs of any kind in town. Steve made us promise that we would go home for Easter before he would tell Mother that he would be home.

We stayed at Ed’s house for Easter vacation, but we had many fun times with Steve and Ed’s family until I walked in to see my family (without Ed, my protector) to tell them good-bye. I walked into the kitchen and recognized those familiar old looks on my parents’ faces that meant trouble. Daddy demanded, Stay here for a week and clean the house as you have done in Ohio.

I had been watching the fuzzy balls gather in the corners and grime build up on the bathroom fixtures during my fifteen-month marriage. I could not believe that I had the nerve to talk back to him. I offered to work in the grocery store so Mother and Susie could clean the house, but they don’t trust me.

When Mother gave Daddy a dirty look, he replied, After what I saw you do to that house in Ohio, you would be a big help if you would do the spring-cleaning.

I became angry and did not know that I would open a can of worms when I snapped, I did my share and everyone else’s when I lived here.

For the first time, Mother looked at me and joined the conversation. Why, you did not!

I looked her in the eyes and asked, Are you denying that, for over eight years, I made seven beds, cleaned the floors, and washed dishes before I could get ready for school?

Stunned, she looked at Daddy and stuttered, She is lying.

I looked at her and asked, Do you deny that I did all those chores before I went to school?

She answered, Absolutely.

Now for the first time, by the look on Daddy’s face, I realized she had taken credit for the housework that I had done all those years, and I pushed. Mother, I am asking you one more time if you deny that I did chores. I will walk out of here and move out of your house in Ohio.

Backed into a corner, she answered, You are lying. I did the housework. You were always running off to a club meeting or to church.

I turned and walked out the front door, wondering how I would ever explain to my husband that I had another confrontation with Mother and that we no longer had a place to live. He thought for a moment when I told him and then replied, I love the place, I cannot deny that, but I am not going to find work in that area. I will ask my family if we can come back here sometime tomorrow.

The evening sun cast shadows on the bright green lettuce and new grass peeking through the rich dirt when we pulled into the driveway along the beautiful Ohio River. As twilight covered the small river community like a canopy, we began disassembling antennas to the television and hi-fi and packing the trailer. Finally, I stood looking at the well-coordinated kitchen that Daddy had been proud of. I could not bring myself to disturb the decorations, so I left our wedding gifts for him to enjoy. Once everything was packed in the trailer, we set the clock to get up and make our getaway before the neighbors could miss us. We just could not say good-bye, especially to our little friends.

After moving back in with Ed’s family, I missed my independence. However, my mother-in-law, Pam, sat at the kitchen table reading the paper and drinking coffee as the automatic washer and dryer behind her spun and fluffed the laundry clean and dry. Other mornings were spent cleaning and sterilizing the house in true nurse’s training. Usually, she prepared dinner before leaving for her three o’clock shift at the hospital. In appreciation for letting us come back into their home, I tried to lighten her load by learning her way of housework.

In the evenings, I sat in the living room with the family watching The Huntley-Brinkley Report. However, some nights, I went upstairs to read or just to give the family a break from my intrusion. My husband never came near me, and I mentioned to him, I miss our times alone and our chats together.

He made me feel cheap when he lashed out, All you need is a red-hot lover.

After that, if I did not want to watch television, I sat on the front porch until bedtime and listened to the neighbors discuss the recent navy launching of another satellite, Vanguard, as if they were the experts.

In early summer, our lives began changing beyond our wildest imagination when Ed’s grandmother, Mama, told us that her sister and her husband, Mamie and Vance, invited us to come to Alexandria, Virginia, to apply for work. Mama decided to ride along.

The night we arrived, their son Jason volunteered to drive us into Washington for a view of the Capitol and monuments by the night-lights. Not until we stopped near the White House did it dawn on me: This is the Washington where President Eisenhower lives!

Ed and I fell in love with the metropolitan area and desired to live there. That desire motivated us to search diligently for jobs. Unsuccessful in our attempts, we conceded that there were no openings, and the three of us returned home.

Personally, I knew the nightly reports that the economic recession had ended in the fall of 1957 were not true. The stock market had a sharp decline, along with the industrial production, and no one explained why over five million Americans were unemployed in the summer of 1958. A good-paying job of $3,000 to $5,000 a year would have supported a family until gas prices did rise over 30¢ a gallon, and the economic recession hung on.

Ed and I escaped the frustration of job hunting by borrowing camping equipment and settling into a small village of campers on the river. Some days, we drove fifteen miles back toward the local college to meet Susie and her friend Carol for a game of tennis. That spring, my sister graduated from high school, worked in the grocery store, registered at the local college, and hoped to have her degree in three years.

It had been a long time since we had seen Ed’s family, so we drove home from the campsite and spent the weekend. Ed went to the grocery store to shoot the pinball machine and returned with a message that it was urgent that I talk with Susie. I walked to the store feeling like a hypocrite since I had not seen or talked to Mother since we moved back from Ohio.

However, inside I found a teary-eyed sister, and she asked me to swear that Ed would be the only person I would tell her secret. When I agreed, she began, Over the summer, I have stolen enough money from the store to run away and find a job. Carol has gotten money from her mother’s bank account. We are running away from home after my final test on Saturday.

Carol and Susie had been friends since third grade. Through the years, they managed to spend time together at school, the movies, and by skipping church. Mother had never approved of any of Susie’s friends, therefore the secrecy.

She continued. If you and Ed do not agree to help us, we know a guy who is willing to drive us to Roanoke for a small fee.

I inquired, What do you need?

She began unfolding the plan. Every day, I have left my clothing in my locker and worn my tennis clothes home from school. The morning of my last exam, Carol will slip out of her house at six in the morning. You pick her up and bring her to the college, and she will unload my locker. We will meet you behind the tennis courts.

I asked, Do you remember the times Steve ran away on his bike and how we cried until the police found him?

Annoyed, she replied, We are going with or without your help! If I sleep upstairs, I have to put the furniture against the door to keep Daddy out of my room. If I sleep downstairs, Daddy sits on the top step to see if Mother gets in bed with me.

That did it. Why don’t you just pack and get out of there? I suggested.

When she began to cry, I told her as I started toward the door, "I will help only if my husband agrees. Call me later, and I will let you know."

My husband’s sympathy toward my sister’s plight overwhelmed me. The next Friday night before going to bed, we lied to his family. We will not be here when you get up in the morning since we are meeting a couple to go camping.

Early Saturday morning, we let Carol out at the front door of the college and parked behind the tennis courts. Then we walked to the student union, and there stood Steve. My cool husband said, Hey, when did you come in from Athens? What in the world are you doing over here this early?

He took a sip from a cup of coffee before replying, I’m here to see that Susie gets home safely after her exam! What are you doing here this early?

I interrupted with a half-truth, We play tennis before the day gets too hot.

My brother continued. When Mother saw your car turn toward Carol’s house this morning, she had a feeling you were going to meet Susie and woke me to come and investigate.

I asked, Why in the world would Mother be up this early on a Saturday morning and standing at the kitchen window?

Ed handed me a cup of coffee and told my brother, Well, Steve, we have to be going. See you later, buddy.

Shaking and trembling, I followed my husband to the car; and as a precaution, he drove a little farther away from the tennis courts. I shouted, Mother has known all along that Susie and Carol were going to escape.

My fears continued as I heard heels clicking as the girls ran across over the hill. They jumped into the backseat of the old DeSoto, out of breath, and shouted, Hurry, hurry! Steve saw us.

Ed told them, Calm down. I know the back roads.

We rode in silence until we reached the Roanoke city limits. Susie purchased a newspaper and rented a room from an elderly woman. When my husband decided we had better get back home, Susie made me promise, You will only call me from a pay telephone. We drove two hours back and ate sandwiches at a drive-in before going to our campsite to spend the night.

On Sunday afternoon, still grieving over Susie, Ed insisted we go to the college and play tennis. However, everything reminded me of the times we played tennis with Susie and Carol, so Ed suggested, Let’s go on to my parents’ home for dinner.

When we pulled up in front of his home, the family came off the porch, and all excitedly talked at once. Mama shouted, I have been very worried, children. Where have you been?

Ed and I had lied to his parents about where we were going for the weekend and thought that was what they wanted to know. Until Mama cried, The constable was just here with a warrant for your arrests. You have been accused of kidnapping Susie and Carol because they are minors.

Ed and I turned red in the face with our hearts racing with guilt. His mother said, We called your friends, and they had no plans to go camping with you.

We began stuttering, and my body began quivering as it had done many times in my parents’ bedroom. Ed’s grandmother calmed my nerves somewhat when she shared, I know the constable and explained to him that you have problems at home. He believed me and said, ‘Call me when your grandson gets home.’

That last comment from Mama reminded me that my parents had an innocent man arrested in Baltimore, and I knew they would let me rot in jail. Fear overtook me. I broke loose in a burst of speed and ran half a mile to the local telephone company. When I stopped, Ed was close behind, and we both crowded into the telephone booth and called Susie. Thankfully, she was near the telephone, and I pleaded, Please call home! Mother and Daddy have a warrant for our arrest.

We assumed that Susie would call home and get Mother and Daddy off our trail. When we returned, Mama had packed us potatoes, onions, pork and beans, potted meat, and crackers and recommended that we go back to the campsite on the river.

For the next two days, I felt somewhat safe in our