My Journey to Redemption: Violence, Gang, Affiliation, Abandonment, Sexual Abuse and Addiction

By John Scott

Fasten your seatbelts, folks. Let me take you on a ride that is unimaginable to any adult or child! It was especially unimaginable to a young boy. I was born in New Orleans to a single mother of five children. I was reared in the Florida housing project; it was housing that reflected a very impoverished c

• Language: English
• Publisher: Authors' Tranquility Press
• Release date: May 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9781958179727

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Copyright © 2022 by John J. Scott.

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My Journey to Redemption/John J. Scott

Hardback: 978-1-958179-71-0

Paperback: 978-1-958179-70-3

eBook: 978-1-958179-72-7

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my six children and my daughter: Shanquall Scott, Jarmaine Scott, Quinton D.A, Lumar, Donte Scott, Michelle Patterson, Diamonte Scott and my stepdaughter Utheishea Johnson. Each of you are my inspiration. You have brought joy into my life. More joy than you could ever imagine.

Contents

The Family

Elementary School

First Encounters

Middle School

High School

Basic / AIT

Home from Basic and AIT

Law Enforcement Agency

Military, Active Duty

Hawaii

Duty Station Fort Polk, LA

My Duty Station in Italy

My Duty Station at Ford Hood, Texas

Hurricane Katrina

Another Child Found

Have I Grown Up Yet

Attempting to Settle Down

Locating with my Second Daugther

My Awakening

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

Thanks to be to God, my heavenly father who is the head of my life! Thanks for being my comforter and my peace. Your grace and mercy has kept me through many trials and tribulations. It is truly a blessing to share my life’s pain and how I have overcome. May my writing be a testimony of your protection, deliverance and peace, thank you Father!

Special Dedication goes to Ms. Mary Emery. Through the years, you offered encouragement, guidance and prayers. You will always have a place in my heart. Thanks for encouraging me to succeed in ways unimaginable. Because of you, I found hope!

The Lord God put you in my life and you were and still are a blessing to me. Thank you, my unofficial MOM

FACT

When we are raised and conditioned in an unhealthy environment or home and we are seeing or taught negative habits. Then we as kids tend to think that it’s ok and acceptable to mimic that same behavior and we look for Love, support and guidance in all the wrong places, people, and or things. Many of us have some sort of dark family secret or personal secret that haunts us on a daily basis. However it is up to us to allow those secrets to be put to rest and to start living our lives in a manner that we can be functional and proud of.

My journey has been traveled by So, So many………but my outcome has allowed me to beat the odds.

Through all of our experiences in life the one thing that we can’t do is Turn back the hands of time so we must learn from our experiences and take that knowledge and share it with others who may be going through exactly what we have!

What I’ve learned in this world is that Love don’t love no body, but you can learn to Love yourself no matter what the circumstances.

When you have gone through something the most important thing that you must do is trust and believe in yourself because only you can pull you through!

In the end what life sometimes teaches you is that you have to lose the battle in order to with the fight!

I now understand that God meant my experiences for good and he has truly ordered my steps. Greatness is on the horizon…… and God continues to mold me.

CHAPTER ONE

The Family

The story I’m about to tell is about my life, my struggles, my enemies, and where I’ve been in my life and where I’d like to go in life. I walked on an unknown journey not knowing where I was headed or where I was going. I stumbled upon life by trying to find the real me, wondering what would become of me in this cruel world we call earth. I often asked myself, would I grow up a man or a disturbed man, fighting through my path to find myself as a child as well as a grown man. The only way I would find that out was to go with life the best way I knew how.

The ups, the downs, the tears, and all the pain was set for me to realize that all come through God. He gives you pain, but he never fails you! For in time of need, all you need to do is call out in his name "By his blood’ I am Healed

My grandmother was born on January 15th 1921 in Woodville, MS, her parents were Dan and Selina; they had eight children. I never met any of her sisters or brothers although I often heard her talk about certain uncles, cousins, and my grandfather Dan who lived in Woodville Mississippi. As a child, I could recall my grandmother being a mean, cold hearted woman and would cuss you out in a New York minute, but at the same time she was caring in her own way and I loved my Granny Jewels. Granny Jewels worked for white people all of her life as a housekeeper; during these times she always brought some goodies home from her white employers.

On March 4, 1963 in New Orleans, I was born. My mother Stella was 17 years old, single, and a high school dropout. My mom lived with her mother, Barbara, and six siblings in the St. Bernard housing project, in New Orleans 8th Ward. When I was three years old, I had a reputation of being a beggar. Whenever I saw someone eating, it was guaranteed that I was asking for something, no matter what it was. I was coming out of the bedroom and heard my mother coming in from the store. I waltzed into the kitchen where Granny Jewels and my mom were sitting and talking at the table.

Mama what are you eating? I asked as I stared at her mouth.

Nothing. she said in an agitated voice. I paused and asked again.

Mama, Mama, what are you eating?, tapping her on her legs.

I said nothing. Go sit down! she shouted.

Are you hungry? Granny Jewels asked in a loud voice as she jumped out of her seat.

Yes ma’am. he said and put my head down and walked away.

She walked over to the cabinet grabbed a big can of Van Camp’s Pork and Beans. She heated it up on the stove.

She said to me come here. I walked in from the living room where I had been playing.

Is your greedy ass still hungry?

Yes. I replied. She grabbed my arm and sat me down on the kitchen floor and poured the beans into this big bowl.

You better eat the entire bowl of beans. You hear me? I was scared granny was going to whip me because she hated to see a child begging.

Don’t make him eat that entire bowl of food mother mama yelled to Granny Jewels.

Shut up she said to my mother. I bet he won’t be hungry anymore, yelling at the top of her lungs and cursing as she and Mama watched me eating the food.

I began to cry as my stomach started to fill up. I looked like a kid from Ethiopia with my belly bulging. About an hour later, I threw up the beans in the room. Mama was not there so I tried to clean it up to spare more trouble.

A few months later, we moved into our own apartment in the St. Bernard Housing Project across the street from where my grandmother lived. Mom was pregnant with her second child; Jonathan. I remember my brother’s dad always being around and my mother waking me up one night saying, Look who’s here! When I finally looked up, it was my dad. I had never met him before and that was the last time I had seen him from that night on from what I could recall.

Around the time I was born, my grandmother also had a son. Freddie who was much younger than I. Uncle Freddie and I spent a lot of time together at my Granma’s house. We had many great times playing together. We had just as many battles we were more like brothers than uncle and nephew. I remember playing marbles with Freddie, at Granny’s house, and she said, Didn’t I tell you chaps about playing marbles in my ‘damned’ house? Before I could react, Uncle Freddie blamed me. Uncle Ellis, who had been watching us, knew we were both to blame. I was determined to get even with Freddie and began plotting my revenge. I pretended to eat Freddie’s marbles and I called for him. Uncle Freddie, watch this! Crazy enough, he tried it and when he did, I slapped him so hard on the back, he swallowed the marbles and immediately started choking and gasping for air. I was petrified I knew I was in for a serious beating. Granny ran frantically into the living room asking what was wrong. With a shivering voice I answered, I made him swallow his marbles. Uncle Ellis jumped up, turned Freddie upside down, and pounded him on his back until the marbles appeared in the vomit left on the floor. Well, Grandma Jewels made me go outside to get a switch so she could whip me. I cried for hours. I told Granma Jewels I was going to tell my mom she whipped me and with a sly grin on her face she told me, I’ll whip your momma’s ass too." I was astonished.

Freddie and I were tight growing up; we would get into all sorts of mischief. Granny Jewels would take us grocery shopping with her at the Circle Food Store, and before we left, she reminded us not to put our hands on anything, ending the statement with Chaps. When we got to the store, we walked around with Granny for a while. Then Freddie and I disappeared looking for more adventure in the store; it was around Halloween. We came across the wax candy section and invited ourselves to the luscious harmonica wax candies with juice inside. Just as we bit into the candy, Granny Jewels turned the corner and said, What the hell are you chaps doing? We tried to hide the candy in none other than our mouths. When she got close enough to us, she could see that we had something in our mouths, and she slapped the living hell out of us right there in the store in front of everybody and cursed us out.

When I get you chaps home, I am going to tear your ass’s up. Do you hear me? all we could do was reply, Yes ma’am. On our way home, on the city bus, which made the agonizing trip even longer, Freddie, and I began plotting about how to prevent Granny from whipping us because we knew when she said whipping you could bet your life on it. When we got home and helped Granny Jewels bring up the groceries. This gave us time to implement our plan; hide somewhere upstairs in one of the three bedrooms. We knew not to hide in her room because it was off limits. We decided since Granny Jewels liked to knit quilts, we would go into one of her chest and get out several quilts. We went into one of the other rooms and laid all eight quilts onto the bed. Trying to be still as possible, there was still a rather large bulge, unbeknownst to us. We could hear Granny calling for us, and we were not answering that call. We could hear her creeping up the stairs, one footstep at a time. Closer and closer to the room and the quilts that covered us, but could not protect us from her fury. I know you chaps are up here somewhere! Then she said, I know y’all going to come out sooner or later, and she pretended to walk down the stairs. I looked at Uncle Freddie telling him that she was gone and to find somewhere else to hide. At that moment, she ripped off the quilts, You chaps think I’m crazy?, and started whipping the hell out of us!

January 1968 my sister Tamala was born. We moved into a two-bedroom apartment on the first floor of the Florida Housing project with Tamala’s dad, June. We were living in the Lower Ninth ward, separated by a Canal and the Desire Housing Project. I shared one room with my brother and sister.

It was then, at five years old I realized my mom was an alcoholic, but I had no idea the extent of her problems. My mother was going out to local bars for hours at a time. I was left to care for my two younger siblings. One time it was a late night and as I fell asleep in my mother’s bed, I woke up to some crying sounds. When I got up, I realized that it was my sister Tamala who had fallen out of the bed and was lying on the side. When I looked over, I saw that my sister was lying in vomit and screaming her lungs out. I yelled for my momma and I got no answer. I got up and went into the kitchen, living room, and she was nowhere to be found. I returned to the bedroom, picked up my sister out of the vomit, cleaned her up the best that I could along with the mess. I then gave her a bottle and we both went back to sleep.

August 1968, I started school at Johnson C. Lockett Elementary. My mother walked me to school, she would tell me to be a big boy, not to cry, and that she would be there to pick me up from school at 3:00 pm. My first day I went to class and there were a bunch of crying kids and a teacher talking about learning. My kindergarten teacher was Mrs. Coto. At the end of the school day all of the kids were released from class to wait for their parents or other family members. As I stood outside waiting and looking for my mother, I began to cry and get scared wondering how I was going to get home. When most of the kids were gone and I was still standing there feeling helpless and not really knowing where I lived, this teacher asked me where my parents were and if I would be getting picked up soon. She then suggested that that they go back into the classroom and wait. I told the teacher that I knew my way home, which was a lie.

As I started walking down Piety Street and turning on an unknown street, I could see the buildings that looked familiar to the projects that I resided in, so I continued on until I reached desire street. As I stood there on the corner, on the side of the street where I stood, there was a barroom behind me, across the street to my left, and another bar in front of me, in that one block area in either direction there were approximately 8 barrooms. I decided to go straight ahead and all the while not one adult noticed this five year-old child trying to cross the street in which I eventually did. I walked toward the project, and noticed two bars on my left and one directly in front of me on the right as I walked further, these two men came out the door of a bar cussing and fighting.

That scared the living hell out of me. I turned around and started going the other direction, which was down Desire Street. From there, I could see the other project and I realized I was going in the right direction. I continued walking past more barrooms. When I got to the corner of Desire Street and Florida Avenue, I made a right turn and continued to walk down Florida Ave towards where I believed I lived. About half way into my walk down Florida Ave, I saw my mother coming down the street and I could tell she was drunk. I became so angry and mad that I just started crying. When my mother walked up to me, she said, Aww that’s my baby he found his way home," as if that was something good. At a tender age came many responsibilities because I was already raising and being responsible for my two younger siblings. While in elementary school, I also met who had to have been the most beautiful girl in the world, Nisha who was my classmate

We were just ending a long school break and I could not wait to see Nisha, but she was not at school. I asked Mrs. Coto about Nisha and she silenced the class. She told us that Nisha was playing in her backyard and a piece of metal piping from the gutter on her roof had fallen hitting her in the chest and killing her. My entire class went to the funeral and viewed Nisha’s body. I remember people crying and shouting. I walked by her casket, stopped, and looked in. I was so hurt; realizing I would never see my girlfriend again. She looked just as beautiful lying in that casket as when she sat in class. I told her I loved her, hoping she would wake up and hug me.

During the time of Nisha’s death, my mother was expecting another child, which was my youngest sister Nisha. I remember my mom asking me if it was a girl what name should we give her. I replied that we should name her Nisha after my first girlfriend, and that she did. As a young child, I observed everything that I saw my mother doing. I saw her with this man whose name was Alvin; I believed he was the father of my youngest sister Nisha who was born in 1969. My mother was also seeing another man at the same time and always maintained that this other man was Nisha’s father. His name was James but if you looked at Alvin and my sister, you could see the resemblance in the both of them.

CHAPTER TWO

Elementary School

During the early 1970’s my mother dated and introduced us to countless men. By this time, she had four children who were growing up very fast. Eventually, my mom had to request a three-bedroom apartment to accommodate us. While living in the Florida Housing Project, My mother befriended a lady that lived right