A Reflection of How Jesus Cares

CHAPTER 2 Young, Innocent and Married One day in March 1964, a school friend, Tommy Cromer, asked me to take him to Dad’s Auto Garage. He had a repair problem with his car and wanted to see if Dad could fix it. Going to the garage was something I usually did not do. Dad did not like me to go there; he said it was not a place for a young girl because of the men hanging around. While waiting for my friend to talk to Dad, one of Dad’s employees, Keith Redd, saw me and asked another person at the garage who I was. The person told Keith that I was the boss’ daughter. At that moment, Keith told him he was going to marry me. The person told Keith that was never going to happen! Keith responded by making a bet with the guy that he would marry me. This became Keith’s goal. It was not long before Keith began coming to the house to see my dad. By coming to visit, he learned about us as a family. He was genuinely nice to me and my brothers. Since our parents were preoccupied with their own lives, they did not make sure we had food and didn’t keep up with paying the power bill. So, Keith would pick up groceries to make sure we had food to eat. Also, he was concerned and did not want me to get hurt because of all their fussing and fighting. It was not an enjoyable time in my young and innocent life. Up until Keith brought the situation to my attention, I did not realize the extent of what was happening at home. So, at age 16, Keith asked me to marry him. I talked with the lady next door, who knew how terrible things had gotten at my parents’ house, and she thought it would be okay to marry him. There was no other reason for me to get married, except for the family problems at home. Keith had always treated me with kindness and respect, so we ran off to Georgia and got married. I was almost 17 and he was age 20, when we married August 28, 1964. Being vulnerable and naive, I believed Keith wanted the best for me. He was a good provider for me and my brothers, as well. As newlyweds, we lived with his mother in her apartment. She was a nice lady who cared for me as if I were her daughter and taught me about cooking and taking care of his clothes. In the process, I learned more about cooking and doing household chores. Since I’m a very domestic person, all of this was exciting to learn. I wanted to be the best wife I could be. I was determined my marriage would not be like my parents. That was my focus and ambition. Watching them for the last two years had taught me what did not work in a marriage. My parents were not happy about the marriage. Dad asked Keith, “Why would you want to marry my daughter? You have other girlfriends. Why her?” Mom bought me a gift and said, “If you made your bed hard, you will lie in it.” Dad fired Keith from his job at the auto shop. They were not going to support Keith nor my decision to marry him. First Experience With Fear and Abuse Growing up, my parents never hurt me physically. After I was age 14, they had their problems, but abusing us physically was not one of them. The only people they hurt were themselves. My life changed again, shortly after we moved out on our own into a house his mother had rented and decorated for us. I thought I was in a safe, secure marriage, but three months after we married, my husband physically abused me, holding me down and hitting me with his fist until my upper eye was cut open. Being so young, I was terrified with fear. I had never experienced such fear or abuse in my life. So, I asked him, “Why did you do that? I have not done anything wrong.” His answer was, “It is so you will not do anything.” This experience put a fear in me that I would never get over. I was terrified of him from that point on. My life, as I knew it before, would never be the same. After I was beaten, there was nowhere to go and no one to turn to for help. My parents had made that clear to me. I wondered why I had asked Keith to explain why he had beaten me. I knew I had not done anything wrong. Then I remembered why I asked that question. When I was younger and the boys did something wrong, Mom would wait until Dad got home to discipline us. Dad would put us in a line behind each other and give us a little hickory spanking. A hickory was a small limber twig of a bush or tree, not big enough to hurt you. When it was my turn, I would always say, “Why me? I have not done anything?” Dad would simply reply, “So you will not do anything.” The difference was Dad’s spanking did not hurt; only the thought of getting it was painful. Daddy had no intentions of hurting us, he only wanted to make the point that we could not misbehave. Keith’s abuse was a sign of power and control – a threat that this will not be the last time, and I can truly hurt you. Hurt me he did, and I still have the scar over my left eye as a reminder. For a 16-year-old girl, it meant a life of terror and fear. The rages were frequent and violent and came for no known reason. One night during his rage, in desperation I ran next door and called my dad to come get me. Dad picked me up and was taking me to the Police Department when Keith deliberately ran his car into the back of Dad’s car. We were within a block of the Police Department and were pulling into a parking place. The crash scared Dad so much that he just looked at me and said there was nothing he could do. He left me there, with Keith, and at that moment, I knew I was truly alone. There was no one to help me. After that, I knew I could never call on Dad again for help. The only other people I knew were friends of Dad and Mom, so I would call them to rescue and keep me safe until I recovered from Keith’s physical abuse. They were parents themselves and treated me as one of their children. At the time, it was the support I needed to recover. I thank God for using them to let me know someone cared for me and I was not alone.