Tragedy to Triumph:: A Memoir

By April Faith Larrinaga

Tragedy to Triumph will take the reader into a world of suffering of innocent children in the name of religion while the children were held captive for over twenty two years while a self proclaimed preacher evaded the law. In this story four adults were directly responsible for the atrocities that occurred against the children. What was seemingly a normal family to the outside world was anything but normal. Inside the home innocence was lost and hearts were broken while the children continued to suffer in silence. This book is written in hopes of saving lives and bring to the forefront the insidious disease that permeated our family leaving chaos in its wake. This book is also about a love that existed between a brother and sister as they lived in two separate worlds living by “Faith”, believing they were to see one another again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781728344492

April Faith Larrinaga

As a child she grew up in foster care, a girl’s home feeling unloved not feeling as though she belonged, left with feelings of emptiness but continued to survive, ultimately becoming a winner. She kept faith alive and against all odds rose above indifference, becoming educated eventually raising her own family. The author has worked for many years in the medical field with focus on developmentally and physically challenged adults and children. In writing her story the goal is to bring an awareness, ultimately breaking the cycle of abuse.

Book preview

TRAGEDY

TO

TRIUMPH

A MEMOIR

April Faith Larrinaga

Revised 2020

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AuthorHouse™

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© 2020 April Faith Larrinaga. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/22/2020

ISBN: 978-1-7283-4446-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-4447-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-4449-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020901286

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Dedication

The Children Cry

Journey Of The Soul

The Story Unfolds

Setting The Stage/Early Years

Grandmother/Solvieg Gandy

Doris Westbrook/Mother

Their Home By The River

Christianity Vs Reality

1963 Larrinaga And Sanders Family Meet

The Outsiders/Sanctification

Indoctrination And Torture

Sinful-Evil Child"

Broken Silence

The Rescue

Aggravated Battery

Disposable Child 1967-1973

Institutional Placement

A Child Is Crying

Anyone Who Cares

New Beginning

Downward Spiral

Pregnant And Homeless

Journey Back Home

Failed Marriages

Turning Point/Aunt Joyce

Life Changing

January 22, 23 1989

Larrinaga Timeline/1967-1989

Justice?

The Chase

The Journey 1989

Meeting My Mother

Trial/Sentencing

Daniel, Joshua, Craig, Randall, Stephen

Letter From Prison Chaplain

Life Verses Death

In Closing

DEDICATION

To my brothers and sisters, thirteen in all who experienced a life of hell, suffering in silence seemingly with no hope in sight as they were held captive for twenty two years. This story is for you and for those who still suffer in silence.

In memory of my brothers Craig, Joshua, Stephen, and Randall. Sleep well and fear not as you live on in our hearts and soul.

Tragedy to Triumph is also dedicated to the few who passed my way in this journey called life, whose selflessness changed my future forever. To Beverly Moore, Laura Trescott, Detective Rutherford who believed in me when I did not believe in myself. Thank you for showing me love and compassion as I will remain forever grateful. As my world was falling apart, a child alone, abandoned you lifted me up. I celebrate your lives.

THE CHILDREN CRY

The children cried, hearts were broken, innocence was lost in the name of religion, while human lives were being destroyed. The cries went unheard for many years as everything good and pure was taken from them like a thief in the night. The innocent included myself, my brothers and sisters as we existed in a world of fear, our lives filled with terror, torment at the hands of our captors, as bible scripture was used for evil. One individual, our father, thinking himself god like realigned scripture, verses from the bible as to gain complete control over his family, eventually gaining control over another family and their children as well. The adults who became involved in a sick, base world of madness, torture of children claimed to be in search of an affirmation with God, believing it could be found by turning their family, their lives over to this one man, thinking him a Godly man, A servant of Jesus Christ". The adults became deluded by the promise of life everlasting, subsequently in search of their own salvation as they became lost in a world of madness. In the end a diabolical life, existence for the children in this story unfolded as their lives were being systematically destroyed by the ones who should have protected. Any thought of a normal life, a normal upbringing was gone forever. It was impossible to know what lie ahead, what lay in wake to be unleashed upon us.

We were taught from the time we began walking, all persons outside our immediate family were heathens, not to be associated with. We could not associate with children at school as we were strictly forbidden. We as a family were to fall under the complete, autonomous control of our father. Do not speak to the heathens or play with them while attending school or upon returning home we were met with extreme punishment if it was found we spoke to the other children or interacted. The reasoning on the part of our father was everyone outside our family were considered heathens, thus his children might be led astray by the hedonistic.

Many who did experience the ravings and teachings of a madman were themselves proclaimed Christians. Most adults turned away, realizing something was wrong, however did nothing to help the children. His children were so well behaved and there was a reason why as in the seclusion of home we were sure to meet with the back of his hand across the face if we spoke out or began fidgeting. We were forbidden to behave as children or to possess childish ways. The saying held true within the confines of our home, (children are to be seen, not heard). This proverb had its origins in the religious culture of the 15th century where children, particularly young woman, were meant to stay silent unless spoken to or asked to speak. It seemed the innocent would go on being tortured, abused, with no one to listen suffering in silence.

In spite of being a difficult person journey, a necessary one in order to bring some healing to our family. In writing my last edit I hope to help those who still suffer. Although a painful journey, a necessary one to bring light to abuse and torture of children, namely my brothers and sisters who endured a life of torment over several years. Later in life a great deal of documentation was collected in order to bring the truth to the forefront. The documents collected were to include verbal accounts, news article, news coverage. My ultimate goal in writing this story is to show the cycle of abuse can be broken, also showing how poverty and addiction can be generational contributing to the future of our children. In order to break the cycle it can be a difficult task but necessary so future generations will not repeat the sins of their fathers. First and foremost one needs to recognize the potential for further damage, become educated and in turn acquire the tools to stop the cycle. One of the most challenging enterprise a person can take is to come from a child abuse background and in turn totally change their life for the betterment of their children.

Our personal story is one of unimaginable systematic torture, the torture of not only the physical body but the torture of the soul, the existence of brain washing occurring over several years. The children experienced unthinkable sexual abuse along with the physical abuse and the disastrous effects that followed as the innocent were held prisoner. The adults who became involved in the madness did not attempt to help the children, instead they took part in the evil. There is and always will be the clear mark of evil but keep in mind there also exists good in the world. The adults clearly chose evil, manipulated by cunning, treacherous, and duplicitous behavior of one person. When one stands by and allows innocent children to be tortured and molested it is of the most base, hideous of crimes and should be punished accordingly.

Eventually two families came together under the same roof, our family growing exponentially. In time the Sanders family came to be under the control of my father. Several years later the two families combined consisted of eighteen children and four adults. The abuse, brainwashing began early on, before the children could speak or walk. The future for the children was bleak, hopeless as there was to be no boundaries.

My siblings and I came to have a personal relationship with pain, tragedy, loss and heartache at a very young age. A beautiful family could have been filled with love and nurturing, instead was nearly destroyed by maniacal, obsessive beliefs with our father becoming the personification of evil with no moral code to live by. He was not alone in his abasement.

With my birth in 1957 the cycle of abuse had not stopped, as I later learned our father was severely abused while growing up, with my mother having a little better upbringing, having been raised by her father. Alcohol abuse had also prevailed in our family history.

A disease of the body, mind had existed through generations, ultimately the cycle never ending. One day with the truth as our armor, as a family we can facilitate some healing for those who have suffered.

If through our personal story I can save one child from a nightmare of abuse, one alcoholic or one drug addicted person it will be worth the anguish I have come to know. There still exist thousands of children who live in a world alone day after day suffering in silence. With the days turning to weeks, months and then years my siblings waited to be set free from their captors. Living in the forests and camps sites throughout the United States living in filth, no food, very little money with a madman at the helm. Time passed slowly while the abuse, torture and brainwashing of my brothers and sisters continued. It seemed certain there was no promise of a bright future. The innocent, the blameless went unheard in the midst of a storm, seeming there was no end, no boundaries as to the sadistic torture against them.

The years brought on an unspeakable loss of life, dignity with the question remaining, when will it end? How many souls have to be slaughtered before something was to be done to stop this madman? Like the casualties of war I looked back with great sorrow for all that has been irretrievable. For those who have known tribulation, who still know sorrow and loss you will not be forgotten. It is time to put an end to the silence, ending the vicious cycle of abuse. With a voice hopefully we can end the suffering of the innocent. Along with hope, faith perhaps we as a society can change lives praying the sins of our father will not live on.

JOURNEY OF THE SOUL

This has been a pilgrimage to keep body and soul together, a journey that has provided insight into a world of undeniable pain, loneliness. The most complex of all was the condition of being emotionally abandoned set to face the world alone with no family, no where to turn forced to face a world without love. The world I came to know was turned upside down in a matter of hours but in the end it was to be my salvation. Abandoned to a life of despair I was left wondering as to the malady of self.

Very early on my reality hit me head on to either survive or give up completely. In the face of adversity one person can either rise above the affliction or perish with the tragedy. Life as I knew it changed drastically through the years and what emerged was a strong independent, educated woman, eventually considering myself a winner, no longer a victim. With time a glimmer of light could be seen at the end of the tunnel. All one has sometimes in the midst of pain and suffering is faith, hope. One can rise above indifference, learning to forgive or know certain defeat. If remaining in that dark place where nothing could grow I was certain to wither like a flower.

My siblings came to experience a life deprived of happiness, of nursery rhymes, ceasing to know the love of a mother and father. When we were but in our infancy the brainwashing of the innocent began. Initially it was I who was singled out being told daily I was bad, eventually believing it to be true. A clear message was sent me from a very young age that I was terribly flawed on so many levels always feeling as though I had done something wrong, merely existing on this earth had become a sin. My life as a child was systematically destroyed leaving me hopeless, as my days were numbered. I was but a child having no realization of life and death, only constant physical and emotional pain, wanting it to end. There came a moment in my life where acceptance was vital in order to survive. Eventually I came to realize my condition having to face the inevitable in order to survive.

Ultimately I was robbed of the very things in life many take for granted, the love of a family, secure home. My childhood was ripped from me. In the years to follow I was full of resentment for those who had played a part in destroying my youth. Life brought many struggles for me, many a demon fought, left with the constant feeling I was deserving of such a fate and at times filled with self pity. The void ever growing inside me, much like a cancer leaving me in pain, an empty feeling consuming my soul. Inside my soul existed a disorder, disease of the body, a malady of the spirit left with the realization another human being could not take my pain away. Learning quickly as a defense mechanism to dispose of people as they disposed of me. Fear of abandonment consumed my life, as well attachment issues persisted throughout my childhood, affecting my relationships with others. Making up my mind as a young girl, the decision made not to allow anyone to hurt me again as a wall was built between myself, the world, one brick at a time, an impermeable fortress.

There were many lessons learned, one lesson was even though life may seem very dark, hopeless there is always a power at work that we may not be able to see, a powerful entity eventually bringing light to the darkness. Later in life I began to see and experience the miracles, the light emerging. A fact in life is each one of us is or will be faced with trials and tribulations as we take this journey called life. Even though chaos loomed there was a power at work known as faith. As I write about the truth, I hope to set those persons free who still suffer. Words can be a powerful tool, hopefully leading to a life of healing breaking the ties that bind us.

From 1967 until 1989 my brothers and sisters endured a life of daily abuse and torture, held captive with no hope of rescue, forced to endure a life of hell that was incomprehensible, suffering in silence.

A false prophet was forthcoming all but destroying his own children and that of another family.

For those of you who have given up and who may feel they live their lives on the outside looking in, there is hope. Do not be afraid to ask for help and be willing to experience humility.

THE STORY UNFOLDS

My very first rough draft was completed in 1999. My reasons for wanting to tell our story changed over the years, accumulating endless documentation, staying as close to the truth as possible, taking written and verbal accounts of what happened from my family members. Sharing the truth is paramount as to facilitate the healing of those who suffered at the hands of a maniacal preacher for some twenty two years, while holding them captive.

I’m now at that place where I can share with others and write this one last time. This will be my third edit of the book, having to be the final edit as it is too painful to keep reliving the accounts of what happened.

I can only hope through my life experiences and that of my siblings it will bring a deeper awareness of child abuse, bringing home the fact we as a society need to be aware and save the children who have no voice. To know one is loved by those who bring you into the world is the greatest gift of all, being the basics of our existence. When the need for love is not met there is only devastation left in its wake, a vicious cycle emerges as the tortured soul of the child grows into adulthood.

Please don’t be afraid to make a difference in a child’s life. Look around, look closely, open your hearts, minds and be aware of children who may be cast out. Please hear their pleas, be their voice so they do not have to remain in the state of hopelessness. For the children who go unheard they go somewhere so awful, into a dismal place deep within themselves.

Often times these children-victims grow up and may carry on the only thing they have known and eventually become the perpetrators. As a result the terror lives on and the cycle of abuse is not broken. As a society we have an obligation to protect. To save just one child is to save generations of horror. Some will never know a bright tomorrow and a freedom from pain.

Searching for a place to belong in this world was tormenting, a lifelong struggle, wanting something that had been lost. To love the little girl who was hated, abused and tortured would be one of the most challenging things in my life’s journey. Like a chameleon I was to change so much over the years as the struggle between good and evil prevailed. I lived in fear each day knowing the power of evil. I looked for approval in the faces of strangers only to be turned out once again, finding it increasingly difficult to believe in ones self.

When it came to pleasing my father, it was an impossible feet, realizing what that fact was to mean in my young life. The reflection in the mirror was that of a child lost who was unwanted, unloved as insecurities abounded staying with me through my childhood, following into adulthood as I tried to make sense of what had happened, most importantly why.

SILENT CRIES…………….

The tears were trickling down

Like the soft rain on the window pane

Her soul reached out and touched

Both the above and beneath

Of heaven and earth………..

A silent cry came from deep within

Splashing upon her lips

The world would hear and they too

Would cry………….

The hope shows itself through the

Whitish grey clouds, bouncing

Off the beneath………

Her tears and cries were not for her

But for all the lonely and abandoned

People in life

She was a part of life and

Life was her

So depart like the sadness of war

Would be the shattered hearts

Of hidden dreams……………

Go and find them and live your greatest dreams……….

By: April Faith Larrinaga

SETTING THE STAGE/EARLY YEARS

I was born April Faith Larrinaga to Doris Westbrook and Ronald Joseph Larrinaga. I was born on April 25th, 1957 in Waltham Hospital, county of Middlesex at 3:15 a.m. in the city of Waltham, Massachusettes, weighing eight pounds, so a healthy baby was born. I was the third child born to Ronald and Doris. Prior to my birth there was a baby girl born who did not survive but for a few months before she perished, reasons unknown. My mother spoke of her every now and then only to be hushed by my father. It was apparent to me at a young age it made my mom sad at the loss of this baby. My brother Craig was born April 20, 1956, so my brother and I were nearly one year apart to the day.

My mother was raised in what she described as a caretaker’s cottage, the little home being situated along the Hackensack River which she and her sister came to know as home. Her father, being a simple man not wanting for much of materialism in life raised his two daughters in this small quaint cottage which he later built on to the small structure, adding rooms. By all accounts my mother was to live a relatively secure and happy life with her father and only sister.

My father on the other hand experienced a terrible, heartbreaking childhood. Initially his father came to Bronx, New York to seek a life working in the early stages of electricity in New York city. His father and extended family lived in Baja, California with a few of them seeking out work, a future in New York. My father unfortunately was to know a life living in an orphanage where he was to remain for several years and with those years evolved an embittered youth. The environment and circumstances in which my mother and father were raised were of two different worlds in every sense. Neither one of my parents came from a religious background as both experienced some physical, emotional abuse while growing up, however it was my mother who experienced a level of normalcy being raised by her father. The world my father came from was of alcoholism and domestic abusing leaving his brother and he alone at a very young age. My father had two brothers, one was a half brother and the other his brother Raoul. His mother was Solveig Gandy, her parents were Visa and Curtis. Visa Gandy was from Homafest Norway, 200 miles inside the Arctic Circle in the land of the midnight sun. Visa in her youth had been an opera singer. Visa and Curtis who were my great grandparents came to the United States from Oslo Norway to America. When coming to the United States Visa and Curtis first lived in Chicago, later relocating to New York City with Curtis gaining employment with the electric company. Visa Gandy, had the maiden name of Awes, and as a young woman while living in Oslo, Norway she sang opera, wrote poetry, being one of the very first woman published. As many woman of the day she gave up her career when marrying. This was very common for woman as the thought prevailed a woman’s place was in the home taking care of her husband and children.

Curtis Gandy III was an artist who was eventually renowned for his work and at one point in his illustrious career he had the opportunity to live with a Navajo tribe which led to his being commissioned to design artwork for the Santa Fe Railroad. In the late 1800’s the railroad was being put through to Chicago. Curtis has artwork displayed in Evangelical Free Church of Teaneck, New Jersey. He also designed some of the first neon signs for various businesses. Many years later most of his artwork was destroyed as his wife Visa had stored the art in a basement leaving it to ruin from mold and moisture, lost forever.

Visa was considered a health nut and although she was healthy in her youth, later in life she succumbed to alcoholism, spending her final days in a long term care facility. Upon her death she weighed three hundred pounds and had been afflicted with alcoholic dementia. I am not certain as to what happened to Curtis.

GRANDMOTHER/SOLVIEG GANDY

My grandmother on my father’s side was Solveig of Norwegian descent (father’s mother), her parents Curtis and Visa were considered extremely upper class living a prosperous life, residing in a beautiful upper class neighborhood known as Felas Manor. A diplomat lived across the street and only those of money and reputation resided in the area. The homeowners consisting of architects, doctors and lawyers. Solveig and her three sisters being of privilege attended a private Roman Catholic school.

The family was comprised of four children. The eldest daughter loved the Lord and taught her siblings the word of God. As the family was wealthy when the opportunity arose they purchased a Ford Model-T automobile. The Model-T, sold by the Ford Motor Company from 1908 to 1927, was the earliest effort to make a car that most people could actually buy. It wasn’t long after the purchase of the car tragedy struck the family. There was a serious auto accident that took the life of their eldest daughter with the family never recovering from their loss. Visa began her alcoholic binges and Curtis concentrated on his art. As most young girls of the period and time Solvieg was anxious to leave home, marry and it was difficult living with an alcoholic mother.

When she graduated from high school she was first married to a man of German descent and he was an officer. Solveig was married only a brief time before she realized the man she had married also had a serious drinking problem. His drinking lead to a bad temper beating her. She was extremely disappointed, left frustrated knowing her marriage was doomed. She desired to leave the marriage but soon gave birth to a son making it virtually impossible to leave. She felt she had to accept her situation as she had an infant to care for. Life with her husband consisted of daily abuse and remained difficult. She waited anxiously for the day she could divorce the German officer. Solvieg and her father continued a close relationship. Her father was known to frequent a boarding house located in Bosota, New Jersey where he went to relax, visit with like people, artists, poets, musicians. The boarding house served as a place where her father met with his artistic friends, having a few drinks, enjoying delicious Basque cuisine being owned at the time by the Larrinaga family. On occasion he brought his daughter with him to the boarding house, stopping to eat and visit at the little Basque cafe. Solveig’s father did not particularly like the idea of taking his daughter with him as he did not feel the atmosphere was conducive to a young woman, however she pleaded with him to take her along. He always gave in to her pleading. The cafe and boarding house was owned, operated by the Larrinaga family who he learned had come there to New York from Baja, California. The Larrinaga family had left the Basque country to seek out a new life in America. There at the boarding house Solvieg on one of her many visits with her father met a young man by the name of Joseph Larrinaga, his aunt was the owner of the boarding house.

In her many visits she gradually came to know more about Joseph Larrinaga, being intrigued at the time by his heritage and he was very handsome with his coal black hair and olive complexion. Eventually some of the Larrinaga family came to New York seeking employment, working for the electric company and that is where Joseph and Curtis first met. It was at a time there was lots of work as the Industrial Revolution was at its height providing economic growth in the United States. Electricity was in its early stages and experimentation.

Joseph Larrinaga frequented the boarding house as he visited his aunt socializing with those he met. Over time the two young people became increasingly interested in each other and began dating against her father’s wishes. Joseph being dark and handsome was taken aback as the fair haired beauty came into his life. Being she was fair skinned with blond hair, blue eyes and skin of alabaster, he did not remember a time he had seen any female with such exquisite beauty.

Her father