Divorce and Marriage

W. still fought the divorce. He used his injury to postpone things again and again. Finally he told me, I could have the divorce if I let him divorce me. After I spent all that money on a lawyer. It was another way of making me the bad guy. By then I didn't care. He already had TK. Enough time had elapsed to dim some of the humiliation I was getting from the locals. People had found other things to talk about. I didn't have anything else to lose. I just wanted it to end, so I could find some normalcy. It took two years, but in 1984, I was finally free to marry Bear.

Oh yeah, things got normal after that. Let me tell you about my third wedding.

We had to get the license in our county. I hated that because it meant our names would be in the local paper. I just wanted to fade away into the woodwork. But, actually, I don't suppose it generated as much notice as I feared. Still we knew we were going to run away and get married anyplace else. I suggested we go back to the town my parents grew up in. Where I was born. We told his Mother and my parents our plans, and off we went. Bear thought it would be fun to be married on a Friday the 13th. Sounded good to me. I'd been married twice in Church and done everything right with wrong results. So a Friday the 13th by a Judge in the town where I was born sounded ok.

We got into town on Thursday and went to the courthouse to set things up. And ran into a snag. The Judge was so superstitious he told us he wasn't even coming in on the 13th. The courthouse would be closed. He told us he would marry us right then and there, or we could go to another town. We were dressed in jeans, but we looked at each other and said ok. Now will do. (Bear still celebrates the 13th and ignores the 12th.)

The judge took us to his office to talk to us while a woman rounded up witnesses and whatever papers they needed. This Judge took Bears hand in his. I believe Bear thought he was just going to shake hands, but the Judge didn't let go. That Judge practically ignored me while he kept asking Bear if he was sure he wanted to get married. Bear said several times he was sure. We were married with me standing on Bears left side and the Judge holding my Bears hand through the whole ceremony.

After our "honeymoon" (more about that later) when we stopped back at my parents house, Dad asked who the Judge was. I handed him the License with the Judges signature and my father laughed till there were tears in his eyes. You guessed it. My Dad (he'd gone to school with the man) never did get tired of teasing Bear about the gay judge who held Bears hand while he married us. My third marriage was off to a rip roaring start.

Betrayed

I still have to describe what it was like for me when word got out that I left my husband when he needed me most. I set myself up to be the bad guy. I was the woman who took his son and moved in with another man while he was in the Hospital after that terrible accident. People I didn't even know were saying awful things to me. These people didn't have any of the true facts, but they sure were free with their opinions. I'd never had any trouble getting along with people, but now I was facing hate everywhere I went. At work, on the street, everywhere.

The Thursday Womens bowling league that I had belonged to since I first came to Mt. Vernon, met me as a group and told me they didn't want me in the league. Turn over the Treasurer books and leave.

B.G. and G.G. also told me not to bother bringing my "new partner", because they didn't want me on their team on Sunday night anymore. (This was before they walked in my moccasins) I'd been Seretary of that league for 10 years, but no one stood up for me. People either turned away from me when I ran into them, or they yelled horrid things at me. I even had to stop talking on the CB. Most of the group at the diner were ok, and it was their support that kept me going. A few stopped joining us, but the others told me we didn't need them. It was true, the old saying about learning who your friends are in times of trouble. I was losing most of mine. I shouldn't have been surprised....but I was.

There was an even bigger surprise. I discovered that FLF had betrayed me in the worst possible way. I never saw that coming. FLF started a rumor that I had shot W. A woman started yelling at me in the grocery store that I should be in jail. Because FLF had told her how I got away with shooting my husband. FLF, who was as close to a sister as I've ever had in this town. I was shocked. She kept yelling at me and a croud was collecting. Then I got angry. I spoke quietly and one word at a time. It was the only way I could stay in control. She had to shut up to hear me. I told her I was a better shot then that. Especially with a deer rifle at close range. If I had really shot my husband, he would be dead and I would be in jail. Then I left the store, and made it to my car too; before I cried.

I'm proud now that I was able to keep my head up and I survived. But I didn't survive unchanged. I don't trust people like I use to. I don't confide as easily as I did to friends. I've been told by co-workers when I move to a new account, that I'm awful hard to get to know. The only close friends I truely trust now are the women who've been my friends since we were in school. And we are scattered all over the state, so I don't see them often. Thank goodness now for e-mail and phones. It's ever so much easier. I am a very different person now. Much more serious and not as easy to laugh. (Except with those school friends. I can feel like my old self with them.) I'm proud that I'm not a bitter person though. Cautious, but not bitter. And, nothing in my life has shaken my Religious Faith. When I was a child and someone let me down or teased me to tears, Mom would tell me, "No matter what, you don't lower yourself to their level." Those have been good words to live by.

W's Recovery

W. visited me at work several times after he got back from the Hospital. That was always awkward. We always drew too much attention for my comfort. My canteen would fill with people and it never stopped him from pleading for me to come back. Then one day he asked me to go to counseling with him. I agreed to that. I thought if I told the counselor my side, he would be able to make W. see that it was really over and give W. the help he needed. W. sat there and listened to everything I told his counselor and he couldn't argue with any of it. But, he still thought I would change my mind if I just listened long enough to him. The counselor listened to us for awhile and then he told me I could leave. I don't know what he said to W. after that, but W. never came back to my workplace again.

When W. was first released from the hospital, it was B.G. and G.G. who took him in. They still weren't speaking to me and took his side. B.G. was having her own medical problems and facing surgery. But, they offered their home to him till he was out of the cast. It meant their boys had to share a room so W. could have a bedroom. (They walked a mile in my moccasins.) He was demanding and selfish and the worst kind of houseguest. Even though B.G. was pretty sick herself, he expected her to wait on him hand and foot. He ordered their sons around and kept the house in turmoil. He insisted they buy the foods and brand of foods he liked and fix them the way I (and his Mother) always had. And he never offered a dime to help pay for any of it. As soon as they could, they put him out. And B.G. phoned me to apologise for not giving me a chance to explain myself. She told me, she and G.G. were amazed I'd stayed with him so long. It was almost funny. The things that drove them crazy weren't even the reasons I'd left him. I had long accepted that his Mother had spoiled him and grown used to his ways. He always had to have certain things his way, and when I was in love, I wanted to do it. We did agree on one of his habits that we both hated. He smoked Swisher Sweets. They have a plastic tip. If he missed the trash with the wrapper, I picked it up off the floor. Ashes were the same, he didn't always hit the ashtray. Our carpet had scorch marks and I was always cleaning up ashes. That was more then B.G. could deal with. We talked a long time when she phoned me and when she hung up, we were friends again.

But when they sent W. out on his own, he turned his mind games on TK. By the time our son had turned 12, W. had convinced him that he had a responsibility to his Father. What if Dad fell in the shower, or anywhere else. He was all alone. He could die before anyone found him. So I lost TK too. He went back to his Father and the young boy took over the care of the parent.

And once again my heart was broken. Yet, it wasn't as bad this time. JT had moved 80 miles away. TK wasn't even half way across our small town. I saw him often. We even set up a regular meeting each week when I took him out to eat. Just the two of us. Well, except when he wanted a friend to join us. That was ok too, I met his friends and kept up with what they were doing. (At least what a boy wants Mom to know.) I was so proud of my son. Worried and so very upset about the situation, but I was proud of him for the maturity he showed in caring for his crippled Father.

I don't know how long W. was off work. I do know the factory sent him to school while he couldn't work. Tool and Die. By the time he was able to work again, he was able to work for a lot more money. (Karma?) His arm was terribly scarred and weakened, but he was a very lucky man. He had also convinced himself it had all been an accident. (What do you think?) I discovered just how much he believed it almost a year later, when a co-worker talked to me. She didn't know the story, just that she thought we were already divorced. (Not. I still had his last name.) This co-worker told me that W. had given a speech on gun safety and showed his arm as evidence of what a careless moment could cause. This was done at a safety session for deer hunters applying for their first hunting license. I sat there with my mouth hanging open while she went on and on about what a "hero" W. was to share such a terrible accident with them in the name of gun safety.

(OK, something good came of it. That's all I'm going to say.)

Please Read TK's comment below.

A Clean Break

That's what Dad wanted. A clean break. I don't know if I would have had the nerve to abandon W. if I hadn't been in Marion with my parents. All those years they had tried not to interfere. Little comments here and there, but they never pressured me. This changed. They were determined the best thing I could do was make a clean break. After all they reasoned with me, his sister was there now and able to stay as long as she wanted. He wasn't alone.

One of my parents phoned the Hospital later on that following day after my collapse. They didn't even want me to talk to the hospital. They learned that he was being released for the trip to the Columbus hospital. Shortly after that his sister called the house to say she was going with him and to threaten me if she ever saw me again. Mom handled the call. Even with her M.S., she could be a formidable woman when she had to. It was enough to make me feel better about breaking it off like that. I never went to the Columbus hospital. But, I did make phone calls to check his progress. I was a bit surprised that they always told me. (Maybe because I'd signed the papers for those procedures before he left Marion.)

JT had to go back to Toledo. His city school started a week before our school. I know he didn't want to leave me then. Making him return was another burden for my raw emotions.

TK and I returned to Mt. Vernon. We only packed a few personal things and it was Labor Day weekend when we moved in with Bear. I left my dishes and furniture and just about everything else. I left the checkbook and only took a bit out of the savings account with me. (I still actually get angry when someone tells me how women get everything after a divorce. I went through two of them and never got a thing.) The hardest part for TK at that time, was leaving our two large dogs. There was no way to keep them in town at Bears. We went back out every day to play with them and feed them until W was released from the hospital.

When I learned that W was being released from the hospital, I went to the Sheriff to ask if there was any way to keep that rifle from being returned to W. I just knew that he would be after it right away. I had to finally tell the Sheriff what I believed and why. Oh, which reminds me. There was another little detail to convince me that W was planning his accident. When I got back to the house the first time after the shooting, I found his wedding band on top of my underware in the drawer. He had to have put it there before he took the rifle to the field. He knew I'd find it after the accident and he knew he wouldn't be back to the house. I don't believe he meant to kill himself. I don't think he thought through how much damage he was going to cause. But, every time he told me I couldn't leave him now, it was there in his voice and in his eyes that this was what he intended. I explained this to the Sheriff and pleaded that I was afraid of what would happen when W returned to the house that TK and I had already moved out of, if they gave that rifle back to W. The Sheriff assured me he understood. I don't know what he really thought, but there must have been some doubt in his mind after we talked. I hope he didn't still think my oldest son shot W. He told me there were ways to avoid releasing the gun immediately. Eventually they would have to give it back to him, unless I wanted to take it. NO WAY.

One more detail. There was also a pistol at the house. (I don't know why he didn't use it.) But, I couldn't find it anywhere. I knew exactly where it was suppose to be and it wasn't there. I reported that to the Sheriff. That mystery was solved when I learned that FLF and BBR had gone out and taken it while we were still in Marion.

W. did go to the Sheriffs office, and to my dismay, someone gave him the rifle. I had a couple more nervous days before I learned he'd taken it right to another friend to keep for him. I don't know what happened to the pistol BBR took. But, I guess W. had hurt himself enough. Like I said, I never believed he wanted to die. When I learned he'd given the rifle to someone else, I knew TK and I were safe too.

After Surgery

The Doctors finally came out with good news. They had managed to restore blood flow and he had blood circulation all the way to his fingertips. Some of the nerves had survived too. As long a they avoided any infection, that would mean they had probably saved his arm. But, there was one more hurdle to pass before they could be sure. The bones in his upper arm had been shattered and would have to be rebuilt. For that surgery, Marion recommended a Doctor in Columbus. He would have to be moved again. Not right away though. My Neurosurgeon wanted to keep him a couple days to be sure his surgery was stable and allow him to regain some strength before the move. The bones could wait that long.

It was late and the Dr. didn't recommend we wait that night to see him. Which was fine with Mom and me. Bear tells me he can't remember much about that evening either. He believes it was FlyRod who reached him with the news about the accident and where we were. Which makes sense. A Chief of Police would have known, even though it was handled by the Sheriff's department.

When I returned, alone and against Moms wishes, to the hospital early the next morning, I discovered W had also undergone a tracheotomy. I don't remember why. I'm not sure I asked all the questions a loving wife would have. My mind was numb and I seemed to be on Auto-pilot. If I asked the right questions, I've forgotten the answers now. I do remember being relieved that he couldn't talk to me. But, I also remember his eyes following me every minute I was in his room The expression was pleading and it was tearing me up. How can it be possible to feel such strong pity, hate and yes, even love all at the same time? I couldn't have been acting anything like normal, even for the circumstances. Whatever normal is under those conditions. Those nurses had to know something wasn't right. There was at least one nurse in the room constantly. Maybe we were in Intensive Care, though I'm not even sure of that.

I stayed all day. Late that day, his sister showed up. She had flown in from Oklahoma and was staying with their Father in Knox County. (Who, by the way, never did visit his son in either hospital.) She and I never did get along. This is the same woman who, at her Mothers house on the day of her Mothers funeral, laughed at me and made fun of me because I was trying to do things the way her Mother would have done them in her Mothers kitchen. I answered the questions she asked, giving his accident version. But I avoided telling her I that I'd told W I was leaving him. Our conversation was done outside his room, so she had no idea of what his eyes were telling her, when we went back in the room. He hadn't been writing either. He was so weak and he was hooked up to too many tubes. I only wanted to avoid a confrontation with her. She was a spoiled, selfish, vulger, brat....but she adored her brother, as much as she was capable. I made arrangements with her to take turns staying so that someone would be with him all the time. I agreed to be there in the morning and she would stay in the afternoon. We were going to trade evenings. I went back to my parents house and left her with him. They took the trach. out that evening while she was with him. I can only imagine what he told her.

When I went in the next morning I wasn't aware that he was now able to talk. I walked in his room, and he started right in on me. Telling me I had to take care of him. Begging for sympathy, then demanding and then begging again. Saying everything in front of the nurses. That was my meltdown.

I remember leaving the room, but only getting as far as the hall. I remember leaning on the wall outside his door and crying. I also remember how I slid down the wall and collapsed in a curled up ball and cried without any hope of ever stopping. Two nurses gathered me up and took me to some room. I don't remember much after that. Dad came in to get me and took me home and they must have given me something. I slept. The last thing I remember is Dad's effort to suppress anger. I was too groggy to know who he was mad at.

Details

When I got to the Hospital, their grief counselor was waiting for me. I had known Jeanie for a long time. Not only from working at the hospital (where my vending machines were) but because she and her husband were also Moose Lodge members and her Barber husband cut both W and Bears hair. (It's a small town, and they didn't know yet that I was seeing Bear.) It was Jeanie who first described the wound to me. W. had hit mostly the inside of his left arm inches below the armpit. A .30-06 (I know nothing about bullets, but TK gives those details on a comment) does a lot of damage. So his left ribcage was hit also and there was damage all the way to his shoulder. They weren't sure they could save his left arm, and warned me it was very possible he'd lose it. Their first priority was blood loss and he needed a Vascular and a Neurourgeon. They didn't have either in our town and wanted to know if I wanted him taken to Mansfield or Columbus. My first thought was my own Neurosurgeon in Marion. He was still treating my A.V.M. and I trusted him. Marion and Columbus were of an equal distance away. I asked why I couldn't take him to Marion and they readily agreed. Especially when I said that my sons were already going there with my Parents and we'd have a place to stay. It was quickly settled. Then Jeanie asked if I wanted to see him now, before the ambulance was ready, and I decided I was ready to see him.

When they took me to him, the others left us alone. The very first words out of his mouth were, "You can't leave now, you have to take care of me." Years of training and compassion took over and I just told my crippled husband, "I know. First we're taking you to Dr. N. E. in Marion." I really can't remember anything else that was said. The room filled up quickly and they were hurrying to move him to better care. Once again I declined riding in the ambulance. I was going to need my car in Marion and I told them I'd follow right behind. They stressed they would need my signature for surgery as soon as we got to Marion. I hurried to phone home, but there was no answer, so I assumed my parents had picked up the boys. Dad must have made a flying trip. I left right behind the ambulance and followed it all the way to the Marion Hospital.

I learned later that Dad had asked for us at the emergency room just after we left, while the others waited in the car. So they knew where we were going and he took the family home with him.

Once at the Marion Hospital, they had W prepped and in surgery immediately. I didn't even see him again. The Emergency Squad members did tell me he had done well on the trip. They didn't believe his life was in any immediate danger, barring new complications. He had been alert and talkative the last they saw him, and that was good.

They took me to the surgery waiting room. All I could do now was wait, and think. I was realizing that he really had meant to trap me. I believed then and I still believe it was no accident. And a real strong anger/bitterness was setting in. After all he had already put me through, now he was going to make me take care of him. After not even visiting me in the hospital, he expected me to take care of him. Dad brought Mom to me and we talked a bit. They felt the same way I did. They had already heard JT's version. Then Dad said Mom could stay and he'd go back home to stay with the boys. I asked Dad to phone W's Father because I didn't think he'd been told. W's Mother was already dead and his Sister was way out in Oklahoma. He wasn't close to any other family member.

Mom and I waited for hours, well into the evening. FLF and B.G. showed up sometine. Both had been with me at the bowling alley. They told me JT had phoned right after I left and word had spread of some kind of shooting accident. That was how they found me. They were prepared to wait with us till the surgery was over. Both women and their husbands had been very close friends of W and I. B.G. and G.G. had been almost the first people I met when I first came to Mt. Vernon. They were the only couple to drive to the Hospital when I'd had the Aneurysm. The four of us had bowled on the Sunday night couples league for the whole of my marriage to W. Over 14 years. Not to mention our card club.

We were still waiting, when much to my amazement, Bear also showed up. Come to think of it, I don't know how he found out or how he found us. But, when Bear walked in, both FLF and B.G. made their dis-pleasure known. FLF had of course known about Bear. B.G. hadn't even known till he showed up. Their reaction upset me a lot. Mom had never even met Bear. He offered to leave and said he was sorry and hadn't meant to cause any problems for me. Mom talked to Bear while I tried to talk to my best friends. But, the girls walked out on me. Mom took to Bear right away. She wouldn't let him leave and she told me that my friends just needed time. If they were truly my friends, they'd come around. I guess she was right. One eventually did come around, but the other proved to be the kind of friend nobody needs.

Feelings

I still hate what that man put the boys through, and me too. To tell my 17 year old son to find him like that. And his own son. TK wasn't stupid. He heard his Father tell JT to look for him. He didn't need to hear rumors to figure out for himself that the "accident" was suspect. I wasn't able to shield him from that.

I am amazed at how the memories are coming back. All you have to do is start to dig a bit. I put all of this out of my mind years ago. It happened in late August of 1982. I thought it was important for me in able to get rid of the guilty feelings I was carrying. And, I didn't want the burden of that hate. I convinced myself that whatever his reasons were, HE chose to do it. I did what I could by getting the best medical treatment I could and staying till he got out of the Hospital. The worst part of remembering is that it's not just the memory. These feelings of quilt and hate are intertwined in the memories. It's all together, and you can't bring back one without the other tagging along.

It wasn't over when the deed was done. Or even after he was on the road to recovery. Later when I had to talk to the Sheriff, I was hit with that suspiciaon of being directly involved. The Sheriff told me it was a good thing I'd been at the lanes with over two dozen witnesses. That's when I realized W hadn't known I wasn't coming right home after work as I'd been doing since JT was with us. I'd told the boys, but I hadn't mentioned it to W becasue of what transpired between us. He must have thought I'd be back and JT would tell me what he'd said. Did he want it to be me who found him? I still believe that. While this raced through my mind, the Sheriff had gone on speaking. He told me they knew nothing had happened as W described it. He couldn't have dropped the gun and been in the line of fire. Something about the position of the rifle and W's position didn't match story and fact. The Sheriff told me that as long as W stuck to his story, their hands were tied. This was confusing me and I asked him what he thought happened. For a moment I thought they knew what had happened. The Sheriff told me he believed it was an accident, but that W was covering for the boy, JT. They believed JT shot W, and W was covering for him. That sent a big chill through me. What if W had realized they would think that? Or did he realize too late and have to stick to his story? I realized it wasn't as bad as it could have been. My 17 year old might have been blamed. Would the law have believed two boys if they said they heard one shot from the kitchen. What if I'd gotten home before that shot? The Sheriff never did ask me what I believed. Was he so sure of himself? I was too much in shock, with too many feelings and emotions and thoughts all at once to offer my own belief. I just needed out of there.

Losing JT to his Father had been bad. Losing my brother, J, had been worse. The aneurysm had been scary and would forever cause pain. Not to mention losing our home in foreclosure and another failed marriage. Now this. Try to imagine my emotional state. All of this had occured within a four year period.

OK. OK. I understand, you'd rather know the rest of the story. So, back to details.

W's Deliberate Accident.

After everything life had already tested me with, I didn't think it could get much worse. I was wrong.

I got up early on Thursday as usual and met the gang at the diner. Bear wasn't there that morning and I didn't get a chance to tell him that W knew I was leaving. Actually FLF wasn't there either. So the only one I told was RDP. The older lady I was just becoming close to. She left when I did so we could talk briefly before going on to work. I remember telling her that I thought W had taken the news oddly and it made me nervous. She told me I was just upset and it would work out fine. RDP was one of the few who knew I was seeing Bear. She liked him, but she didn't know W.

All morning at work, I still couldn't shake that strange feeling. I had a meeting after work and had told the boys that I'd be at the bowling alley first and home a bit later. Our Thursday womens bowling league only bowled in the winter, It was late August and we had our organizational meeting at 1 p.m. I was still the Treasurer, so I felt I needed to be there.

When I got to the lanes, the first thing I did was tell FLF and a few others who had been friends for years. Except for FLF, the others were pretty surprised. They didn't even know of any problems in my marriage. I answered some questions, but I didn't elaborate. We had our meeting and I was in a hurry to get home. I was the first to leave, but I had to stop at the grocery for a few things. Having two boys had really increased my grocery stops that summer.

I'd returned to the car after shopping and started home when one of my boys shouted for me on the CB radio. I don't even remember which one, but they were telling me there had been an accident. All the strangeness I'd felt all day was roaring in my head. I said I was already on my way home and I'd be there soon. We didn't say anything more over the radio.

What happened first and what did I manage to put together later? This may not all be cronologically correct.

I believe TK was alone at the house when I got there. His older brother told him to wait for me and tell me to drive up the hill from the house to the field where I'd see the Emergency Squad and some Sheriff's cars. The only thing TK knew was that his Father had an accident with a gun while shooting groundhogs in the pasture above the house. When I got to the pasture, JT met me and told me W was going to be ok and the squad was working on him. I suppose the normal thing for me to do would have been to rush to my husbands side. I have no idea what I was thinking or feeling. I just know I didn't go to W. I have an impression that my 17 year old son was keeping me back, but I sure can't swear to that. I vaguely remember the Sheriff coming to me, but I don't remember a thing he said. I learned later my actions were regarded as suspicious, but so were JT's.

The squad finished what they could do in the field and started to the hospital. I was asked if I wanted to ride along and I told someone that I had to find someone to care for my boys and then I'd follow. I was pretty sure this was going to take a long time and I didn't want the boys at home alone wondering what was happening. JT and I went back to TK and told him what we could. They told me that W had taken his .30-06 rifle and said he was going to shoot groundhogs. But, it was dinnertime, and he left JT fixing them something to eat. Just before leaving he told JT that if he heard a shot and didn't come right back, that JT should come looking for him. And that's what JT did, and how he found his step-father so quickly. I phoned my parents to drive from Marion to get the boys, but I didn't wait on them. Then I drove to the hospital. I still didn't even know just where he was hit or how bad it was.....but I was pretty sure it wasn't an accident.

I Finally Did It

I saw W knock TK down just weeks after Bear had told me we could live in his house. What an amazing thing to offer. Of course I didn't take it seriously when he said it. We hadn't known each other but a few months. He didn't even ask for a commitment. But, it was that offer that first made me really think about this man. As we contintued to talk on the phone, I really started to fall for him. His divorce wasn't final and I hadn't even left my husband, and I was considering taking my son into a situation I didn't even approve of. What a strange time it was.

I went up to talk to my Mother. I was so sure she would tell me how foolish I was being. She had a million questions, but to my amazement she was so relieved I was considering leaving W that she wasn't even against us moving in with a man she hadn't met. I knew my parents hated W. They had ever since the aneurysm when he took me back out to work on the cabin after we were warned it could kill me. The only warning Mom gave me was to remind me how bad my judgement was when it came to men. Dad came home during our talk, and as soon as he walked in, Mom told him I was ready to leave W. I will never forget his reaction. "It's about G... D..... time!" He shocked me. I'd never heard him cuss. I knew he did. He was a W W ll paratrooper after all. But, Dad was the old school that never swore in "mixed company," and that included his wife and daughter. I'd expected a lecture from them and received absolute support. It gave me more to think about.

My next step was to ask TK if he would come with me or stay with his Father if I left. He didn't even hesitate. He wanted to leave. That also surprised me. I've only just learned, after all these years, that his Father had been giving him a worse time then I knew. Maybe not aggressively abusive, but enough to make TK want out of the situation. It was enough to finally convince me I was out of options. One way or another, it was time to end the marriage.

I took the easy way out. I asked Bear again if he was sure he wanted us to move in. I still wasn't ready to promise this man I would ever marry him. At that time, I never wanted to marry again. But, I did promise to always be honest with him. He gave me the same promise. I'd commited myself to do something I never would have believed myself capable of. I took my son and myself out of a mentally (for both of us) and physically (for TK) abusive situation and into an immoral one.

I planned to tell W the following weekend when we actually moved. After JT had gone back to Toledo. But, for the first time in our marriage he confronted me first. I couldn't believe he wanted to face something. It was a Wednesday afternoon when he told me he knew I was up to something. I told him I was leaving, and TK had decided to go with me. There wasn't even an argument then. He just walked away. There was an odd expression on his face, but he never even tried to talk me out of it. He went to work as if nothing had happened. I stayed up till he got back home, but he wouldn't talk. Once again he was ignoring what he didn't want to face. Or so it seemed. What he was thinking and planning was going to shock me beyond belief. Our real "soap opera" was just starting.

That Summer

A lot happened all at once that summer. I met Bear, and FlyRod was right. He was so funny and so easy to talk to and we hit it off right away.

JT came to stay with us for a long visit before school started. So I was going straight home from work. JT was 17 that summer before his Senior year. (6 years older then TK) His Father hadn't allowed him to get his drivers license yet. He wasn't happy about it, but in Toledo it wasn't such a big deal. He and his friends could get around wherever they wanted. But, we lived out in the country and he couldn't join his old local buddies unless Mom took him. He talked me into letting him get the drivers license. The idea tickled me. That I could send him back to G with his drivers license, in pure defiance. I was driving an old Gremlin that I let him use to learn. W wouldn't let him drive our Monte Carlo. He had to take a professional Drivers Training course before he could take his test. I paid for it all and after he got his license, my two boys were off in my Gremlin most days soon after as I got home from work. They'd come back in the evening after W went to work.

So most of my private conversations with Bear were over the phone after W left and before the boys got back. And of course we were still talking on the CB with the CH 34 gang. Have you ever noticed how much easier it is to say things when you aren't face to face with someone. Over the phone, Bear got me to talk about things I probably wouldn't have under any other circumstances. Then one day he rode past the house while the boys and I were in the yard. He stopped and that's how he met them. They talked him into taking them for rides on the motor cycle. Bear never had any kids of his own and he got a kick out of mine.

My marriage was falling apart, but that summer wasn't all bad at all. I was enjoying having both my sons with me. And there was one hilarious evening with FLF and her hubby, BBR. (These are shortened nick names, not their initials.) They wanted to go out for an evening and asked if JT could babysit. We left their two little girls and TK at their house with JT in charge. We started at the Moose Lodge and danced awhile, but our husbands didn't like to dance. They took us to a local bar that was nice and not rowdy. I've always been able to drink without feeling a thing. I just don't get drunk. (Most medications for pain don't work for me either.) But that night FLF got really drunk. She's a funny drunk. FLF had gone to the restroom and we three were at the table when one of my old ride along truck buddies came in looking for us. JT had phoned the Moose after we left and then gotten on the CB trying to reach us. BLD had brought his son to town to stay with a friend and heard my son trying to reach us. FLF and BBR's youngest daughter had a nose bleed and JT couldn't get it to stop. BLD told JT he'd try to find us and he did when he recognized the Monte Carlo outside the bar. BBR said to wait and he'd take care of Karen and come right back. She often got a nose bleed and it would be ok. W handed him our car keys and he left. BLD sat down in BBR's chair and we visited. Then FLF came back from the restroom and sat down next to BLD. He gave her a salute, but just kept talking to us. FLF kept looking from BLD to W and I. It was obvious she was drunkingly confused. Suddenly she said, with quite a slur to the words, "You don't look like BBR." We all laughed so hard. But all BLD said was, "I don't?" and no one told FLF where BBR went. After a while, FLF needed to go to the restroom again and this time she insisted I go with her. I expected her to ask why BLD was sitting in BBR's chair, but she never mentioned it. So neither did I. When we returned to the table, BBR had come back and BLD had left. FLF stopped dead in her tracks at the table, looked at BBR and slurred, "Now you're BBR again and I'm drunk. Take me home."

It took the support of both men to get FLF out to the car. When we got to their house, the men went inside and left me to get FLF in. I finally managed to get her out of the car, but one step and she grabbed the tree at the curb and hugged it. I was laughing so hard I couldn't move her. Trying to pry her loose from that tree had us walking in circles around and around the tree and me laughing out of control. Then JT was at the porch and at first he thought I was drunk too and he was surprised. It had been a family joke for years as friends tried to get me drunk. What's the expression, "I could drink everyone under the table." JT was actually disappointed when he decided it was just FLF that I was in stitches over. It took me and both of my sons, who couldn't stop laughing by then, to get FLF into her house and into a recliner. (Where she spent the whole night.) W, the boys and I went home after one of the funniest evenings of my life.

I Was Stalling

As long as I stayed with W, I didn't have to admit to myself, or anyone else that I'd made a second bad marriage. My family certainly knew. But, most of our friends knew nothing about a troubled mariage. The ones we bowled with. Our card club. I'd kept a united front for just about everyone who knew both of us. I don't even believe W knew just how I really felt. Even at the end there were few arguments. Which seems rather odd for me, as I try to piece it together now. I'm very quick now to argue and shout. It must have been part of my effort to hide the obvious. I was leading a double life. One at home and around "our" friends. And the one at work and with "my" friends. And it upset me that W didn't even seem to notice, though he may have been ignoring it the same way he ignored anything he didn't want to face.

Another reason I was stalling then was for TK. Our son wanted to take Karate lessons. W didn't want his son to learn somthing he couldn't do. He told me that. So he had signed them both up for lessons. They were doing something together and really enjoying it. I knew a breakup would put that in jeopardy. As long as my family was content, I felt I could just let things slide.

Besides, my biggest problem was how could I support TK and myself with only a part time vending job. I knew from working only 4-5 hours a day with a job that allowed me to stop anytime I needed to let the blood drain from the A.V.M. when I pushed myself too hard; I knew I wouldn't be able to find work that I could do and that would support us. When I thought about it, I felt trapped and scared. I'd lost JT and I didn't want another son to leave me and go to his Father. I didn't see any way out.

Then once again, events in my life just happened and I don't remember actually making decisions. Though I must have. I just found myself along for the ride.

I met Bear about the same time that the reasons for stalling were falling apart. The Karate lessons had progressed to the second belt and now TK was getting better at it then his Father. He was going to get his third belt before W. And, that didn't sit well with W. Instead of being proud of his son, he resented him. I realized the truth and where it was headed one day over a simple chore. I'd asked W to husk the sweet corn for a meal. He was sitting on the steps outside the kitchen door at the second rental, with the corn and a bowl. TK was telling him about his day and standing over the husked ears. The child was tugging on his shirt, shaking it and W suddenly yelled at TK and knocked him right off his feet. TK fell backwards hard. I saw it through the kitchen door and ran. "What was that for?", I shouted. W turned on me and said somthing about TK getting dirt on the corn. I always wash the corn anyway and that shirt wasn't that dirty and the boy hadn't done anything to warrent being knocked down. That was the first episode. W had been hard on JT also, but I thought it was due to being a step-son. Now he was starting on his own son the same way. He'd been a wonderful Father to a little boy, but as the child grew, we was becoming more and more demanding and unforgiving and unreasonable. At least that's the way I saw it.

It was the final straw for me. Or maybe the best excuse I'd been given. I didn't analize it. I knew it was time to go. I could ignore my own unhappiness, but I wasn't going to ignore TK's.

Running Bear

Actually, his real C.B. handle was Running Bare. An example of his sense of humor. But, I knew his wife's voice as Honey Bear and the actual spelling never occured to me. I don't know when she left. I guess I was so wrapped up in my own problems, I never even missed her when she disappeared from the radio. She had never talked very much anyway, you usually heard her in the background when Bear was teasing someone, or being teased.

Several of the CH 34 gang had talked about meeting FLF and I. We always told them they could meet us anytime by joing us at the diner any morning at 5:30 a.m. It was our serious joke. You had to get up early to see us. I'm pretty sure Bourbon Supreme was the first to take us up on it. Then he joined FlyRod in teasing the others about meeting FLF and I. But, every time FlyRod talked me up, Bourbon Supreme would come back with a comment about me actually being a "grey haired ole lady." My hair has been pure white every since the aneurysm. It was very striking when I was young. I always swore no one would recognize me if I wore a dark wig. I really felt that all anyone really saw was my hair, and if I changed it, they wouldn't know me.

One morning it was pouring rain. I'd stopped to pick up FLF, who didn't want to go out that early in the rain. I had to talk her into it, and we were late getting to the diner. We ran inside tucked together under my umbrella. Tom kept his lights low because he wasn't actually open that early. So I didn't see who was at our table at first. But I recognized the voice of Running Bear as I lowered by umbrella and I heard him say, "You really are a grey haired old lady!" I'd heard that voice often enough on CH 34. There was only one stranger at the table, so that had to be him. I didn't say a word. I just walked over and hit him with my wet umbrella. Hard enough to break the handle off of my cheap rain protection. That is how I first met the man I'm married to today.

Not that I had the slightest idea that was where life was taking me. I hadn't even admitted to myself quite yet that I could actually leave W. That was still going to take a few months.

Bear can't say he wasn't warned. How many men would come back for more after the woman broke an umbrella over their heads. Still he did join us again and again at 5:30 in the morning. And, he always greeted me with, "Good morning grey haired old Lady." Guess I had my warning too.

Reliving J's Death

I was just devastated after that and it took me ever so long to find solid ground again. Even after everything that had happened that day, W. refused to let me talk about it. He was shutting me out again, when I needed his support the most. This time it truly was the beginning of the end of my marriage. I just didn't care anymore. I was beginning to believe that there were worse things, even for our son, then leaving the man who didn't seem to care about what I needed. Was that the kind of love I wanted T.K. to grow up thinking was normal.

PNT was no longer available to confide in. FLF and I had said all there was to be said. It was just a big drama to her and she didn't offer the support I needed either. Which made me think twice about confiding in any of my other friends. I knew several who would listen, but I didn't think anyone could help me. I felt any one else's interest would have all the wrong motives to help me. It was my low point.

I wanted desperately to talk to my Mother. But if this knowledge was tearing me up, how much worse would it be for the Mother who lost her son? Mom had more of less accepted J's death as suicide. She believed he had throat cancer and could accept suicide as a means to end the pain. She missed him terribly and we still cried together and talked about J every time we were together. Her own M.S. had taught her that a person could just take so much. She had even told me she could forgive him. Then she confided to me that I needed to know that she was thinking of her own suicide when the M.S. pushed her too far. All of this put me in a horrid situation. With the pain of my own A.V.M., I understood it all too well. Understanding too much can be an awful burden.

I had to let Mom talk about knowing why J felt suicide was an option. I had to listen. But, I couldn't talk about it all being a lie. I couldn't destroy her the way I felt destroyed. The only ones who could have really understood what I was feeling, and helped me, were the family I didn't dare confide in. I've never felt so lost and alone.

FlyRod had asked me to come back to the office any time I wanted to talk. He was so Fatherly and I did go back several times. We avoided the subject I most needed to talk about, but I did confide how upset I was with my husband. Most of our conversations were about people we both knew and what was going on in our town. General gossip. Gradually, after FlyRod met me, there was some teasing on CH 34. Maybe it was his effort to take my mind off what he knew. Maybe he just wanted to cheer me up. But after a bit I suspected he had another motive in mind. He was telling the others on the radio that they should meet me. Comments about not knowing what they were missing. There was something about my being even sexier than my voice. It all made sense one day when FlyRod told me in his office, that I should meet Running Bear, who's wife had left him. FlyRod told me that Bear would be someone I would find it easy to talk to. I hadn't even managed to leave W yet, and FlyRod had matchmaking in mind. I didn't think I was interested.

The Aftermath

Our story shocked FlyRod. We were both talking so fast, I don't know how he sorted it all out. My emotions were flying back and forth between anger and grief. It was even worse than the Valentines night that Dad phoned me to say they'd found J's. body. I was a mess. FLF was just excited. Suddenly what had been my story, was real to her.

FlyRod just seemed confused. He sat us down in his office and asked us to wait while he made a phone call. I remember sitting there shaking. FLF took my hand but I couldn't stop. FlyRod never took his eyes off me while he asked someone to connect him to the Wyandot County Sheriff and waited on the phone. He identified himself as the Mount Vernon Chief of Police and said he was calling about some confusion for one of his citizens. He'd barely mentioned my name when it became obvious he'd been interrupted. He listened for some time and I watched the blood literally drain from his face. I could tell he was sorry he'd called with us in the office. But, give him credit, he never took his eyes from mine. He hardly spoke another word and he was white as a sheet when he hung up.

Then he got up and came around the desk. He took both my hands and dropped down in front of my chair. He just kept apologising. The words I remember most were, "I'm so sorry, I sent you into a hornets nest." He told me he should have phoned before he sent me up there. He said he just assumed it was a suicide and I'd been mistaken about the rest because of shock or grief or not wanting to believe.

Once we had both calmed down a bit, he went back to his chair. He was still distraught and kept rubbing his face with both hands. I wanted to know what they had told him over the phone. But, he kept saying he couldn't say. All he would tell me was that it was still an ongoing investigation. That was over 3 years after J died. He kept trying to make me promise to stop asking questions. He scared me by warning me that my family could be in danger if I didn't just forget this. He repeated the comment about "sending me into a hornets nest" several times with apologies over and over. It was all to much to absorb, so confusing and unreal. But he did manage to make the scare real. Which was also the purpose of what the Wyandot County Sheriff had done. I remember being glad I hadn't said anything to any of J's and my family about what the Funeral Director had told me. And now I couldn't say anything to them. I didn't want my parents to feel what I was feeling. And if our other brother knew, would he be able to drop it? I didn't think so.

But what did it really mean? FlyRod asked if I'd ever considered (not that it was...he said) that there might be drugs involved. I just kept defending my brother. If there were drugs involved, then J had stumbled on something he wasn't suppose to see or know and paid with his life. I would never believe he was dealing. He made no secret of using marijuana, which made our Father furious. But there had been a situation in the Marines when J and two buddies had attacked a dealer they'd seen selling drugs to school kids. He would never have been dealing anything himself. FlyRod said that made sense, but he wouldn't tell me more. He listened, but just kept telling me I had to let it go for the sake of everyone I loved.

I'd gone on a search for answers, and all I got was more questions. Questions that have still not been answered 29 years after my brother died. FlyRod and I became friends, but we never mentioned any of this again. I always intended to some day, but he died before that day came. I still talked to my closest friends about it, but FlyRod managed to scare me enough to stop me from asking anymore questions. This is the first time in years I've told J's. story. But, I haven't been able to forget and it still torments me. Especially around this time of year. I still hate Valentines Day. And, when anyone mentions the "Blizzard of 1978", it's not the snow I think of first.

A Chief of Police and Two Sheriff's

I talked FLF into going with me the very next day after we finished our vending jobs. Since I've already used his CB handle, I'll continue to call him FlyRod. He was an older man, (dead now for years,) and we'd gotten to know each others personalities during the weeks or couple of months (I'm not sure now how long it had been) that we'd talked on CH 34, even though I hadn't know his occupation. I liked him right away. I wanted to know if it was possible for a death certificate to say suicide if there was doubt about how a person died. He told me it was very rare, but possible if there was reason for law inforcement to want to keep quiet the fact that an investigation was ongoing. I told him what I knew and how I'd learned it. I believed he was taking me serious, he listened without interruption. FLF sat beside me, but never said a word. She'd heard it all before, but I hadn't even been friends with her when it all happened. After I'd finished, FlyRod asked a few questions, then told me that investigation files were open to the public. He said all I had to do was go the the Marion Sheriff and ask to see their records on my brothers death. He also explained that if J's body was found in Wyandot County, I would have to go there too. He made me promise to come back and talk once I'd been there.

I walked out of his office in total excitement. Finally I was going to "do" something about all the questions that had tormented me for over three years. I couldn't even wait. It was an hour drive to Marion and another half hour to Wyandot County. I talked FLF into going immediately. We stopped long enough to make sure her kids had a babysitter as they were still pre-school and we didn't expect to be back before our husbands had to go to work. I phoned W to leave a message for TK when he got out of school, and we took off. TK had just turned 12, but the boy was also very mature. He always had been, but what we'd been through had seen to that. I had no qualms about leaving him alone for a few hours.

I didn't want my family to know I had even been to Marion or why. We went straight to the Marion County Sheriff. I told them who I was and what I wanted. The Sheriff talked to me and said he remembered the case and had been one of the deputy's working on it. He took FLF and I to a conference room and told us to wait while he got the files. We waited....... and waited..... and waited. Well over a half hour. It was a strange half hour. Excitement turned into confusion and then trepidation. Something was wrong. I'm not generally a forceful person and I have a strong respect for authority. But, I also have that temper I've mentioned before. I wasn't sure what I was feeling when another deputy finally came back to us. He told us they didn't have any files in Marion county and we would have to go to Wyandot County. He refused to say more. That didn't make sense to me. Hadn't the Sheriff just told me he'd been part of the investigation when J died. And why had the Sheriff talked to us at first and now sent a deputy? Still my respect for authority kept me from arguing. I thanked him and we left.

FLF and I discussed our surprise at the situation as I drove to Upper Sandusky in Wyandot County. I needed her to tell me she thought it was strange too. I didn't know where the Wyandot Sheriff's office was, but as we got into town, I saw the local newspaper office first. We stopped there so I could look up the old story that had upset me at the time. I wanted FLF to see it. How they had printed that my brother was a "loner" who wasn't close to family or friends. (If you haven't read about how my brother died, it was printed on 11/21 through 11/25) We read everything we could find in those old papers. I even found the story about the man who was shot the same week J died. One of my trucker friends had told me he'd overheard at a truck stop that there was a connection between the two deaths. But, nothing I found gave me any connection or answers. I didn't know and couldn't even prove they'd known each other.

Leaving the newspaper office, you can imagine my state of mind. Any excitement was gone. The grief was back just as strong at it had been over three years before when all this happened. But, I was still determined to see that Sheriff and read their files. I hadn't come that far to stop now. FLF just wanted to take me home. They gave me directions at the newspaper office and we headed for the Sheriff.

What a shock that turned out to be. They were waiting for us. I didn't even get a chance to introduce myself. A deputy was waiting at the door and took us to the Sheriff's office. I was told by the Sheriff himself, in no uncertain terms, that the files I wanted were not available. And, even more shockingly, I was told I wasn't welcome in Wyandot county. A deputy was right there to escort us back to the Marion County Line. We were ushered to my car and told to leave. The deputy actually followed me all the way to the county line. Adrenalin must have gotten me that far. Adrenalin or pure shock. Once in Marion County, it all came crashing down on me. I pulled over (while that deputy waited and watched at the county line) and FLF took the wheel and drove me all the way back to Knox County.

By then I'd recovered enough to insist on going right back to FlyRods office. FLF didn't even argue.

A Troubled Time

It was sometime during this period that I lost the support of PNT. LTR had become increasingly uneasy over our friendship. I can't blame her, we were spending a few hours, a lot of afternoons together. But the end seemed so sudden to me. For the sake of his family, it just stopped. I was still struggling with the secret I was keeping from my family about J's death. And I missed my oldest son. It had been 3 years and the aneurysm had become an old friend I could live with, though not comfortably. I had realized some time after that first year or so that I might live. There were no longer all the rides in Semi trucks with the 6 men friends. The group was still meeting, and growing, around 5 a.m. at the diner and often some of us met up again around noon. I did still make an occasional short truck run, but I'd limited who I went with to a couple of guys who didn't have families. When PNT stopped the private meetings for LTR's sake, I was suddenly adrift. FLF was still my confidant, but she never had the same understanding. I guess the difference was that she was always critical of me. She never accepted me as I was. I just wanted understanding and support. PNT had always talked me through things without criticism. I sure wasn't getting any support from my husband. And when I realized he didn't care the same way LTR did about my "men friends", I added that to my growing list of resentments.

Then along came CH 34 after which a small incident led to my first earth shaking revelation. It started so simply, and really had nothing to do with the CB radio. One day when I left one vending account and arrived at the second, I had to park on High St. because the lot was full. I got my car parked across from the Hospital and was reaching under the seat where I'd put my purse. I needed money for the meter. I was startled by someone tapping on the drivers window. It was the Meter Maid. I rolled down the window to see what she wanted. With the worst snotty attitude ever, she demanded I immediately fill the meter. I've got a quick temper and I told her in a duplicate attitude I was trying to do just that. This woman had been on the other side of the street when I'd parked. She jaywalked to give me a rough time. We exchanged a few more words and she finally crossed back to continue what she was doing before crossing at the light and coming down my side. I made sure I had filled the meter and left by then. Though I waited just inside the hospital door to make sure I didn't need to run back out to attack her. The witch. It had occured to me she might give me a ticket anyway and say there wasn't time on the meter. Good thing for both of us she didn't.

That evening on the CB radio I was talking to the new group on CH 34 and I complained about that meter maid. I tried to make it a funny story, but I WAS a bit angry as I remembered it. And that is how I discovered my new CB buddy," FlyRod, was the Chief of Police. In other words he was the meter maids boss! And he was very interested in the exchange I'd had with "that woman." (I'm rather embarrassed to admit, she was fired. Though I was assured there had been other complaints and I shouldn't blame myself.)

Anyway, I was very interested in anything FlyRod might be able to find out about J's death. I told him I had questions concerning the law and he told me his office was always open. Just come in anytime. I analized my story and my questions all night.

Confusion

I thought writing about J's death was hard, but I'm having a harder time sorting out this next period of my life. The sequence of events is not easy for me to get my mind around. It was a period that I've shut away in some deep corner and spent years trying to forget. Now I'm determined to put it in words, but first I have to to wade through it all and try to make sense of it.

I need to back up and fill in the important things that let to the decisions that led to everything that happened next. Sometimes it's not even a decision that rolls along taking us in new directions. It can be a simple act.

W bought me a base C.B. radio. Actually he asked me what I wanted for an anniversary gift the summer before we moved into the first rental, then told me to go get it for myself. So, I bought myself the base radio. It was set up the first time at the first rental. I'd only had the mobile unit in my car before that. Then FLF and I could talk to each other and others in the evenings from our own homes. A base gets out a lot further than a mobile. Before I'd gotten mine, she and her family had used channel 23 and had a circle of friends there. So I joined them on CH 23. We also continued our teasing on CH 19 (the truckers and drivers channel that everyone mobile preferred) and I spent my time flipping between both channels.

Sometime after we'd moved into the second rental, FLF and I were talking one night on CH 23. She was having trouble with her reception. We lived about 8 miles apart with me in the country and FLF in town. Someone, not far from her house, was "bleeding over." That means they had a powerful radio and every time they talked, it "bled" over the other cnannels and caused problems on her reception. FLF told me to wait while she went searching channels till she found them. Then she came back to our channel to get me and we both went up to CH 34. It was more or less a "if you can't lick um, join um" kind of thing. We jumped into the conversation on CH 34 and met a new group. No decisions were made, it just happened. There was Running Bear, Fly Rod, and Mighty Tread, who was doing the bleeding and brought us into the group. Also their wives who didn't talk much, and others who came and went. These were the ones who were going to effect my future the most. Two of them dramatically. One quickly and one permanently.

These things happened over time and over lapped each other and were woven into my life in ways that are hard to seperate and put in stories. My feelings and emotions were assaulted and soothed and turned every which way over the coming months.

I had spent over 3 years since my brothers death and my aneurysm trying to keep my marriage in one piece. I was so determined to keep T.K.'s family whole and protect him from his half brothers fate, that the compromises were destroying the me I didn't recognize anymore. Something had to snap, but it took a chain of events and time to happen. Let the Drama begin. We were all just along for the ride.

Another Move

The Real Estate Agent who had helped us legally break the lease was trying to find us another rental. But, it was the holiday season and having to move quickly was proving to be a big hurdle. There just wasn't anything. Then I thought of L.C. I'd bowled with her for a few years. I didn't know her real well, but she had bowled with her husband and her parents on our Sunday evening couples league for a few years. L.C. had recently divorced her husband and a new partner was found to bowl with her and her folks. The divorce had been nasty. The Ex was a deputy sheriff with an attitude and a slyness that made several of us uncomfortable. She was about my age and she had gotten the house, but she was living with her parents and her house was empty. So that week at the bowling alley I talked to her. She seemed to like the idea of renting to us, but something was holding her back. I was desperate and pushed harder then my personality would usualy have allowed. L.C. finally admitted she was afraid of the house because there were snakes in it. Snakes? Was that all? She wasn't sure what kind, but in our area poisonous snakes are rare. Just garters and an occasional black snake. I assured her that wasn't half as bad as what we were already living with. (Actually meaning the furnace, not the ghosts.) She agreed t let us move in, at least till summer or we found something else.

W and I didn't really believe snakes were going to be a problem, especially in winter. The house was in great shape. How would snakes get in anyway? Even if they were in the basement, the shouldn't be a problem.

By the next Sunday at bowling, L.C. was our landlady. None of us ever saw a single snake in that house. L.C. and I came to the conclusion that her crazy ex-husband had been bringing them in to terrify her. She had already suspected it. Later when we moved out, L.C. moved back in. And stayed. She never did find another single snake in her house.

This was another farm house on a county (not township) road this time. One of those that has the barns on one side of the road and the house on the other. We had to park at the barn across from the house. It was a much bigger house and we settled quickly enough to have friends over for a party on New Years. That party was one of the last normal functions W and I ever had. L.C. let us stay, and we were still there late the following summer when my world turned upsidedown down again.

If it has occured to you that up to this point my life has seemed a bit of a soap opera, well....you haven't seen anything yet. Our New Years Party was 1981/82 and the next two years were going to get even more dramatic. I felt totally out of control and I was about to learn just who my friends were....and weren't.

Ghosts and a dangerous furnace.

As you can see from TK's comment on the last post, he believes there were three ghosts. Possibly a family. A woman and a child and a man who scared my son. Which one liked to blow on the back of female necks? Probably the lecherous old man. Probably NOT the woman. An ornery child? He/she would have to "float" up that high. Do childish ghosts do that? Our most common occurance was feeling somone sit beside us and actually seeing a cushion or the bed indent. This happened often and to just about everyone who visited. JT visited us for a week before school started and he was pretty upset when "someone invisable" sat on him when he tried to sleep on the couch. I told him our guest wasn't used to not having room to sit beside us. The expression he gave me was hilarious. But he didn't appreciate my laughing at him. We also heard the usual footsteps and bumps in the night and when things weren't where we left them, we knew who to blame.

No one was more terrified then my friend FLF. She had several encounters and finally wouldn't even go inside the house. When school started, TK became more and more reluctant to be alone in the house. I had to be at work before his bus came. I don't even remember now, what shift W was on at that time, but I finally asked a friend on our bus route if TK could stay with them in the morning and get on the bus with her kids. TK never told me exactly why he was afraid. Maybe because I wasn't even nervous, he didn't think he should be. Maybe because he was still so young. Maybe because our dogs wouldn't go inside that house. Though they'd always gone in our home with us before. They prefered to spend their nights in the barn. I think TK would have been happier staying out there with them. Maybe not. He came in one day with a 5 1/2 foot long snake skin he'd found in the barn. There was a black snake out there, and no rats or mice. I wouldn't let anyone harm the snake on the few occasions we caught sight of it.

Then it started getting colder. And, we had to go to the basement and fire up the old wood burning furnace. The very worst part of living there. We knew it would be inconveninet and hoped we could get it updated. But till we had to use it, we had no idea how bad it would be. There were cracks in every wall of that furnace and it sucked in air from all sides. That thing could not be controlled. It roared so hot and burned wood so fast that the carpet on the floor of the room above the furnace would actually pucker and smoke. We called the Real Estate Agent who had found the house and acted on behalf of the man in Arizona. When she saw that carpet, she phoned the owner right then from the house. But, he wouldn't take her seriously. This time the law was on our side. She started proceedings to help us break the lease and he was informed the house couldn't be rented again till the furnace was replaced. And, we had to find another house and move again.

I've never gone back out there. I don't know if he replaced the furnace or sold the house. I heard rumors that he put it on the market. I don't know if it was ever occupied again. Maybe it's time to go out and drive past. Now I'm curious again.