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Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Get over it...continued

In response to my earlier post on "Get over it" I have had a request to put the chidhood story of someone on my blog in the hope that sharing his story, it will help someome else out there get over it. Here is the unedited e-mail I received.....

Get over it.

After days of thinking about it, I have decided to open the real secret place that I have locked away for over 56 years. I know this is going to bring back so many bad memories, all of what I am about to write has been my secret. I have not even opened my secret not even in my autobiography that I called Growing up with a secret.

All I remember of my childhood was after I woke up in a hospital at the age of 7. From what I found out later was a bully boy pushing me against a cast iron radiator in the orphanage Brynhyfryd, Mold rd Rhuthin , North Wales. All through the years until I was 14 my brother was my only living relative, or so I thought, up until that age we where never parted, we where fostered out twice once in, Rhos on Sea. North Wales that only lasted for a few months until we where caught picking cigarette ends up,

The foster parents showed us where and how to do this, best place was Sunday morning along the booths on the promenade after the courting couples had smoked themselves to death waiting for the early hours to do what comes naturally or even unnaturally. But this one Sunday morning the police picked us up. The foster guy called us little lying buggers and after the police left. He took his belt off and gave us a real lathering first me then my brother we are only 11 months apart. My brother being the elder,

Then we were moved back to the orphanage in Rhuthin, and for some reason they said I was the bad little bugger . and was forced to peel the spuds for I month to teach me a lesson for lying about such nice people who took us in out of the kindness of their hearts. Not forgetting I was still swathed in bandages after my accident , as they called it. And headaches where the norm sometimes real splitters where I could not concentrate on anything . and my bruv saying things like I was stupid and lost my brains on the floor. And that is what I believed for almost 2 years until my bruv told me what had happened, soon after moving to the orphanage we where fostered out to a farm in Bodfari Nr Denbigh. Now these were real bible pushers chapel three times a Sunday and band of hope on Wednesday evening. And seeing my head was still learning, I was to learn a proverb for the Sunday sermon ready for the morning preach where I had to get up to the pulpit and say it out aloud off by heart as they say, not an easy task for a boy with no brains and the only thing he knew was if I did not do it he was going to be flogged for letting the kindhearted foster parents down, then one Sunday it happened I completely forgot my passage. And I was flogged, not the first time by Mr Edwards, who was too handy with his belt its a wonder he could keep his pants up, but this time after the flogging he came to my room and decided to try and make things better, my bottom was sore enough on the outside without making it worse on the passage.

Our secret he said, tell anyone and the devil will take you to hell, wow I thought must be one hell of a place if its worse than here. This buggery was done regular no matter where sometimes in the barn even in the fields. But mostly after he gave me a good hiding . no point in growing up a good boy it made no difference he always found an excuse for a beating, not saying I was the best of kids in fact looking back I was a bit of a handful but that was no excuse for what he did. In the end it just became the norm. that's the way it was, strange thing was he never touched my brother , if he did even he has a secret place, and my brother had a nervous breakdown at 16 and was given electro charges, fried his brain and he no longer wishes to remember anything. And has spent the rest of his life in an institution, but he has no anger against any one mainly because he does not know what happened, and just gets on with his life same thing day in day out, looks forward to when I will next visit him where he will carry on the conversation as if I had just been to the toilet for a minute, he never forgets any of our birthdays not even my grand children, I sometimes have a problem remembering my own.

At the age of 14 I had to go back to the orphanage because my brother had left school and had to get a job so had to leave the farm. And if he stayed at the farm the Edwards would have to pay him, thus making the stay at the farm with these kindhearted people, slave labour, they got paid from the council for fostering we got 3 pence a week spending money.( but only if we worked ) That we had to put in our piggy bank so we could buy our kindhearted foster parents a well deserved birthday and Christmas present. And sometimes if I was a naughty boy I had to pay the three pence for my school dinners,

The first week back in the orphanage I decided that I would confide in the woman Mrs Shepard she was the one who took us to the foster homes and bring us back to the orphanage. I told her what happened at the farm. You nasty little liar after all they did for you and she called. Mr Jones the guy who looked after the orphanage and was matrons husband. He then proceeded to take me to the police station, will show you what we do with liars .in the police station I was laid into by a police man with a wet towel. The belt was bad enough but this was torture and did not leave any weal marks and I was left in the cell for two days. And that's when I decided that enough is enough. Any bastard touches me again I will get him back, and I started going to boxing lessons with another boy from the orphanage who was already going. Problem was I was going for the wrong reason and I wanted Ben to teach me all he had learn t over the past 4 years. And he knew some real bad moves not sure if its what the coach taught him or his cousin who was a boxer who fought for money at the fairs. And a real bruiser of a guy.

Then I had another set too with the matron and she called her beloved . as soon as I saw the slap across the face coming I hit him full in the rib cage. Guess what happened , yes the cops came again to teach me a lesson. I see you are going to be like your old man. A bit of a hard case. Will see about that said Mr Jones, all brave now he had his bully boys with him, . I was taken to the police station and charged with assault on Mr Jones where I received a warning from the magistrate next time you will get 9 months borstal. So that was the end of my glory boy days until I had a letter. From my father. Yes; from what I thought was a dead man, He was asking if I would like to go and live back home in Colwyn Bay, Oh great I thought. I lose my brother and gain a father.

My brother was working on a poultry farm two miles from the orphanage and had bought himself a bike so he could come and visit me on the week ends Saturday afternoon and Sunday afternoon these were the two days he only worked half day. So when He visited me on the Saturday, what do you know about this I said to him and gave him the letter. Thought he was dead he said! Well did you ever see him , before I mean before the accident, can not remember . only once a man came said he was our uncle. Poor old bruv was as shocked as me.

On the first day of the summer holidays and my leaving school I had the instructions on how and where to meet my father in Colwyn bay. Get off the bus by the cathedral. Whats a cathedral I asked the ticket inspector on the bus . aah he said you are Nevile sly's boy .(Everybody in the the area knew Neville) he will be waiting for you when I tell you where to get off.

The cathedral is a well known landmark in The Bay and opposite is a public house called the Central. As I was sitting on the wall, this what I thought was an idiot was shouting me to come over and had a half empty glass of beer in his hand, then he sent some guy over for me to go to the pub. Big boy me now all the way from rhuthin on my own and now being invited into a public house where only 18 yer olds are allowed in, How much money you got was the first words out of his mouth. All my savings I said , how much is that. 2 pounds I said, minus the 6 pence bus ticket , give it here . you will not have to pay for your keep. And I will buy the beer. As he handed 2 shillings to the barman, pint of bitter and what do you drink my son. Dunno I said. And that was the first meeting I had with my father. He was a real ruffian one of the old hard knocks of the bay no one messed with him. He was banned out of all the pubs in the area except for the central and the bee inn Abergele. Only went there Monday market day and the pub was open all day under special license. Next after the old man was well steamed up, me too, after drinking this bloody awful swill, that will put hairs on my chest as he said. We headed for what was going to be my home. 8. 30 on a summers day I first met and found out I had a huge family. In the house there was Agnes as thin as a matchstick. A woman who had survived 6 births of what is now my half brother and half sisters. And 7 miscarriages. The eldest half sister was 12 and the youngest was still sucking what bit of tit it could find. The next day I went to visit my grand mother on my fathers side and my sister. Here I found I had 14 uncles and 2 aunts. Another sister who was fostered out somewhere in Wrexham. Every where we went after that first day some relative came out of the woodwork mostly because the old man had my money and was spending it like he had won the pools.

When I eventually went back home . I found out he only wanted us, me and my brother because we worked and he took all of our money and gave us 5/- pocket money a week/ then I moved in with gran . my father was the biggest liar I have met and today I think He must have been An Egyptian Muslim. He showed me where mum was buried I even went there to put flowers on an unmarked grave in Llandrillo church next to the big angel headstone. My mum I found out, at what was my uncles funeral years later was buried in the old church in Rhuthin and died having my youngest sister. There is only 11 months between us all 4 from my Mum. The old man got married within six months of putting Mum to rest, leaving my eldest sister with Gran. My younger sister was fostered as soon as she came out of the hospital. And me and my brother were put in care. Never once did he or any of the aunts and uncles visit even though 3 of them lived within spitting distance of the orphanage. My sister had a wonderful childhood. with her what she calls parents and knew she was an orphaned child. We met Her in 1971 through the Salvation army where she then lived in Stratford London. We even found out we went to the same school in Denbigh Caledfryn-yn-rhos. My eldest sister . we became very close and met almost every week. And our children grew up together.

There is still another compartment to my secret place but that will remain locked , try as I may I cannot open the years before I woke up in the hospital, I can even still see the girls face that was in the bed next to mine and her mother and fathers . I remember almost every day of my life since then well the ones I wish to remember.

Looking back on what has happened over the past years. Pedophiles who are now known. In the 40s/60s nothing was known of these people , what better place for these monsters to work than an orphanage, that were springing up everywhere after the war years. There must be many people who have endured the same life as me some can and have made themselves a secret place others. Some who could not cope have ended up in mental institutions some have committed suicide and taken the secret place with them. These I know my lord and savior will protect

And only he can show mercy on the guilty, and as Mr Edwards said the devil will take, and may they burn in hell.

Vengeance is mine says the lord,

No one knows of my secret , My wife or children , I wish for it to remain as such I need no pity. I have got over it its something I had to do or go mad or commit suicide. I found my lord and savior in 1991. And I am born again, I am not saying I have forgiven only my lord is the judge. not me.

I am trying to put into words how did I cope with it as I know you or someone else will ask that Question.

And the truth is after a lot of thought, is by telling lies, how did I cope with being a teenager and finding out I was put in care. While my father was making another family, why did he do that. His answer to that was I had no money what could I do, what he meant was we were excess baggage that his new wife did not want, one of my uncles told me he was having it off with Agie before mum died so she knew there was other kids involved I then blamed her and my father for putting me in a situation of abuse. I saw my half brother and sisters having the freedom what is known as childhood, not having to get up at 6 in the morning to do work before school. Or having to rush home to work incase they get a flogging , being let to play is something I or my brother never grew up with. no one apart from the gypsies ever questioned why did I run away from the farm. once I pleaded with the gypsies to let me stay with them. we can,t my little friend. no one will believe us they will think we have taken you, you know the stories about us,

Growing up as an orphan only to find out I had this huge family , then all he wanted me back home for was my money to support not his family but his lifestyle the only time I saw the old man was on a Friday when he wanted his rent money , My brother was working in a small factory . Colwyn bay egg packing co, the old man would go direct to the office for the weeks wages it was only 100 yards from his local pub he needed that money to pay for what was known as slate, pay the beer bill at the end of the week. My money he would squander on beer and fags for the weekend he became very popular with the local alcoholics he played darts thought he was pretty good at it and played for money when he had 10 pints in is belly He could not hit a cows arse with a shovel. After a few months I had enough and moved to grans at least there I had some spending money not much but some . one day the old man came home drunk and accidentally set the house on fire, great one for his chips was dad loved to cook. 12 o.clock at night after the pubs closed. One night he fell asleep in his usual drunken state and the chip pan caught fire and set the house ablaze, my brother was blamed for that, at the time My brother was going through a bad patch after a girl got herself a new boy friend . he had become a recluse never went out only to work. Dad blamed the idiot as he called him. And had him put in the mental hospital in Denbigh. Once they started on the shock treatment he went more into himself so they tried giving him more and ended up sizzling his brain, and that is something I never forgave the old man for. When I was 27 I went to visit my brother in what they called a safe house in Rhyl he was taking so many pills with every meal he did not know what day it was never mind remembering who I was, on the way back home I called in the pub where the old man almost lives. Been to see your son I said, have you? you put him away not for the first time I said and another 10 years has gone and you cannot be bothered to visit him. Caught me on a bad day he said; I need some money. How much I asked, ah well he said you have a good job and earning quite a good wage can you see me ok for a hundred. I will see you for one I said and hit him with a left hook on the Jaw. And left him sprawled on the floor, the next time I saw the old man was on his death, I was in church when my sister phoned. Said the old man only had hours to live. So I drove 80 miles. To the hospital ah my son is here, he said to the nurse. he had found out from one of the family I had bought myself a new bmw, and most likely thought I was going to pay for a few home comforts on his stay in hospital, I sat by his bed and asked him if he would receive Jesus in his life. He is the only one who can forgive you. He closed his eyes and passed away, get over it. No need there was nothing to get over. Now its between him and his maker. But I will never forgive him, not for what he put me through. But for what he did to his other son, my brother .


SAPhotographs (Joan) said...

How many people out there go through the same kind of thing and then wrongly blame themselves for it? IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!!! Do not let it spoil your life and take away the pleasure which should be yours. Talk about it, get it into the open so you can start to live a full life without looking back on these bad times.

Radka said...

Beautiful blog and photos, have a nice day Radka.

Food, Fun and Life in the Charente said...

What a sad story, I thought that sort of life only happened in books but I guess they have to be real to be written about. You are an amazing person I am glad you have written about your life as I am sure it will help you and give us all a better understanding. Your photographs are just amazing and I hope between them and your family your life improves daily. Keep up the blog I love it. Diane

SAPhotographs (Joan) said...

Thanks for visiting and commenting Radka.

SAPhotographs (Joan) said...

It is a sad story Diane but not mine. I am just publishing it for someone who wants to remain unknown in the hope it will help someone else out there. It is very hard to believe that things like this happen but they did and still are unfortunately.

This Is My Blog - fishing guy said...

Joan: The lady should write a book, I feel it would sell quite well. It makes me sad to read all that is written. I do hope that person is doing well today.

Rambling Woods said...

Oh ... I have been sitting here ... I thought I had a bad childhood, but mine was a walk in the park. And somewhere another child is suffering. I hope there will be courage to talk about it and a lving ear to listen to all these children... damn...

Mary said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Gaelyn said...

Joan, thank you for putting this man's story out. It is awful and sad yet a lesson has been learned and now shared to hopefully finish the release of a destructive secret. I believe it is true that to look an awful situation right in the eye and see you have no blame to carry will begin a healing process. Yet to talk about it lightens the load, and perhaps insinuates it as your Truth.
Please take heart to this story.

A human kind of human said...

This is such a sad, sad story. The evil that lives in some people is truly horific. Yet it is also an inspiring story of a very brave boy who survived more pain and horror than anybody deserves. I am happy to hear that he is born again and I pray that he will experience the love and grace of Jesus fully in his life.

Leeloo said...

This is so terribly sad. I've only read stories like these in books, which were all fiction. How terrible that real people has gone though this kind of stuff. This man must be very strong.

Anna said...

Joan, now I can explain why I been leaving so many comments, lol, I was looking for this story to finish since I started reading last week. This is very sad story, and feels like it can happen in the movies or books, and not in the real life. Thanks for sharing. Anna :)

SAPhotographs (Joan) said...

Found, answered and loved all the comments Anna!! :)

Yes, this is a horrific story and my heart cries for the people who have been hurt like this.