November 05, 2016

We know we will all return to ashes, right?

Well, in the past week I was notified that my biological father passed away on July 4, 2016.  He made quite an impression.  He lied to my mother when I was a baby so he could gain full custody and scare her into young heart attacks that she never overcame. I was placed with his mother and father – he moved into their home, taking me.  Pa had his hands full keeping him out of trouble and trying to make him into a good father. He smoked, cursed, ran around on his second wife but always tried to keep his image good.  She suspected but never went hunting him.  I watched over the years as they physically fought, exchanging black eyes and such.  When they married, I was only a few years old. I waited for him to take me with him but it didn’t happen. I asked to go.  So I lived with this until he began telling Mother she could not visit with me ANYWHERE.I lived with Dad & Jean until I was 11.  He was horribly strict about everything. No Brownies or Girl Scouts for me.  Nothing.  I came home from school and had to lock myself in the house and not let anyone know I was there.  They call this latchkey kids now-a-days.  If they forgot to give me lunch money or make something for me to take to school, it was just tough.  I better NOT eat anything while I am along – wait till they come home from work.  It was tough since I was so hungry by 6pm. One time I did eat toast – I got a long belt whipping for that.  When I was sick, which I wasn’t allowed to be, Pa would come stay with me.  Dad worked at Curtis Candy Co and Jean worked for Republic National Bank. I noticed strange behavior in him when I was running track at the elementary school and would have to ask permission to take a long bath but one evening, he had to use the bathroom while I was soaking so in order to get his point across, he set fire to the curtains and told people it was me.  My Aunt Willie, whom I was named after, really was angry with me for years over that.  No one believed me that he’d also said he put his hands in the candy machine so he could take some time off.  They were injured real bad and he quit working there shortly before his 10 anniversary that would have allowed him to collect benefits like retirement.  Jean did the same thing with the bank since he’d started going to E Texas to clear that land she had inherited and had started putting in his name.  When she started having babies and there was no room for me, I asked the courts to allow me to go live with Mother.  Dad got so angry, he only allowed me to take the clothes on my back and anything she’d bought me.  To this day, my bicycle (which I could only ride if he was there with me) is hanging in that barn in E Texas >  Things eased up when the boys were born, George Aaron Taylor and Jeff Allen Taylor.  I saw he calmed greatly at Jean having boys instead of another girl.  He worked me like a boy, and to this day, my back still hurts from it and it caused me female problems that never healed until they simply were removed.  I helped feed cows, pile brush, and everything one does on a farm.  At all hours too. When I was with mother & George, I went to school and was encouraged to go out to movies alone and be independent. I skated on the sidewalks, skinned my knees, rode a new bike George got me with skinny wheels! Life was busy all the time.  When Mom & George bought the apartment complexes, I learned right along with Mom how to paint rooms. This work wasn’t as hard on me.  Life was stressful but we coped and thanked God often. George was busy doing real estate things.  The boys never seemed to call me but I enjoyed the little time I had with them, which was my weekend visits.  I did get angry when people blamed me for things they did.  That was the part of being a big sister I really hated since Dad was always so quick to use the belt n say I’d lied about something when the thought of doing whatever had never occurred to me.  The most thrilling moment of living with him was once when he was beating me with the belt, he missed and hit himself.  He stopped hitting me at that point.  The statement “it hurts me more than you” was never said again by him.  I remember one of our ridearounds, he did outrun a rabbit with his very short legs. All the children Ma & Pa gave birth to had abnormalicies.  Ma was 4′ 9″ so I think LITTLE PEOPLE title was used in the family a lot.  Pa was over 6′. Seeing Dad, 5’7″ outrun a rabbit was unbelievable to see and so much fun laughing with him.  This was my Daddy. I was about 12 when he did that, and he was operating & buying, a donut shop on Harry Hines Blvd.  Uncle Oliver worked for him.  They got into a tiff and he moved the donut shop to E Texas… it was years before the two of them spoke again. Dad ran the donut shop in E Texas for awhile as he also worked in the oil fields.  Dad never permitted George, my stepfather, to adopt me cause I was HIS little girl.  I’m not sure when he changed his mind about me being his little girl but that changed but it did a few years later, after my son was born.  He was committed to a psychiatric hospital in my teens. Off n on I saw him committed and Aunt Willie kept saying it was me or Jean causing him so much grief. (Aunt) Willie Ruth Smith wrote to me at camp, saying it was all my fault. Mom really got angry about that & she arranged  for me talk to Dad’s doctor who said he’d not mentioned having a daughter.  The doctor actually said he’d forgotten me.  Dad acted strange after that summer, never to be my Daddy again.  When Aunt Willie saw me again, she made sure she told me my Daddy loves his girl… sure … he was just my friend at that point.  He still had that look in his eye that he wanted to use his belt on me for something.  I think that was more something he wanted to do than me needing it.  He had a mean streak. I don’t believe he ever bought me a birthday or anything present again…everything was for the boys …Aunt Willie bought gifts for me, saying they were from him, but I never believed it.  I always felt it was her conscience trying to pay me off for something I saw her husband do to Janice, a cousin, when she was just a baby.  To this day, she still lives with the horror and I have always wondered why she couldn’t just forget it. Remembering didn’t help her today function any better so why keep talking about it?

I made special cards for him … it didn’t matter.  He paid $1 a month for child support cause Mom was so scared of him. He terrorized a lot of people over the years, just like a real mobster gang, all-in-one person.  I was in my teens when he told me he had murdered someone at White Rock Lake in the early 50s.  I didn’t know what to believe at that point but this was Daddy … My Grandparents had me before living with Dad & Jean.  They were so loving and good.  They were both in their late 80s when they passed.  Maw lived long enough to meet my son, born in 1974, but she had a heart attack & stroke a few months later and passed away.  She had given me her first wedding ring to remember her by but Aunt Willie took that away from me quickly… when she passed, no one let me know so I could get that ring back… this is what I’ve had as family.  Mother’s family consisted of a lot of people.  Her mother said no to her bringing me with her… hummmm. I always felt conflicted about this woman after being told that.   So, off to Ma & Pa Taylor I went, with Dad living there too.  SO, it was sorta like I was always with Dad and his crazy streak ….

I tried to keep my son in touch with everyone but also, protect him from the crazies.  I did not succeed in this endeavor. This breaks my heart… At 44, he assaulted me and I had him arrested.  I’ve had enough of being beat on.  That was Dec 14, 2014.  He was throwing my furniture out without talking to me about it and I objected to him verbally. He jumped up and hit me in the breast, knocking me into the fireplace and floor.  I bruised up real bad. My already bad back is now ready for surgery.  I am making appointments to see the neurosurgeon as soon as my insurance begins coverage.  My pride will never recover from this.  He was my only living child, my baby who had hounded me to reconnect with crazy people who’d hurt me in the past but were still alive.  I refused to return to a place in my life that hurt me physically and mentally even though I loved him.  I hope he is happy wherever he is now because living with me is something that will not happen again.

I found an attorney letter for me today.  She sounds just like a newby from college trying to make a splash.  She included a letter saying she was representing George Aaron Taylor, the eldest son, and for me to not contest nor contact her.  Michelle L Lackson, PO Box 748. Winnsboro, TX 75494.  michelle.l.jackson@gmail.com  (strange as it is, she is not listed as an attorney at the Quitman Wood County records) Says THIS IS THE WAY IT IS … blah blah blah.  Dad put me in the will alright, for $1.  He mentioned his brothers, his nephew who tried to represent him when he sued me for possession of my own mobile home, and got reprimanded over it by the justice system.  I had to call Ann Richards office to get a decent just to tell him he can’t do that.  He was attempting legal theft and using a J.P. in Winnsboro to help him do it.  Governor Richards got that stopped but the physical damage had already been done to my house by him and whoever he hired to move it.  My own minister laughed at the mess. I was working at the Post Office as janitor when Dad torn my place apart, and moved the house into the city limits of Winnsboro.  The local Police didn’t have a clue what to do about it.  Almost every one described him as “that crazy old man who sits on the porch in his drawers in the summer”.  He had told me I could have a couple of acres across the street from him and live there forever so I borrowed the money to move when I’d been in 2 MVAs that really hurt me and I was without a job.  When I saw him going down the road with my mobile home, I was on the way to the doctor for help on my feet.  I had my first heart attack that day. Was told to go to major hospital.  As silly as it sounds, I said I had to go find my house and keep my son calm.  God works in mysterious ways alright.  I am still alive.  The cousin who helped Dad do this to me is Alva Eugene Smith.  He lives in Dallas, TX and just sold his CPA business.  He married a gal he’d known but Aunt Willie knew little of, while Aunt Willie was in the hospital for asthma, causing her to go into cardiac arrest.  He’d told her to move out of the family home he did his army financing on, because he’d gotten married and didn’t want her there anymore, He was 50 or so at the time.  Uncle Bill (William E. Smith) had passed a few years earlier from an aneurism. This is the same guy who convinced my Dad that I’d done him wrong about the first house my husband and I bought, down the road from him. We used army financing to get it and when my son was due, in order to pay the bills, we sold it to him as a take-over-payments so he got all the benefits of Government financing without ever being in the service.  Alva Eugene Smith told him I cheated him…. this was not funny to me … but Gene thought it hilarious.  He seemed to enjoy making trouble for others, for years.  I’ve not talked to him since the court trip in Winnsboro, seems useless to bother an ass.  When his dad died, my father took him under his wing for God knows what, except the guy acts like he has brains even though he killed his own mother. He’ll never have anyone who loved him more, except a maid.  He never did fit in the rest of us who always kissed cheeks when meeting or leaving.  He was too good for this disgusting display, but used a gal who faithfully loved him dearly, then he dumped her for this one he married with grandkids at the time.  George Aaron was still flunking out in college when my son was born and refused to touch him nor hold him when he was little nor did he ever come visit me afterward his birth.  He was too busy smoking dope with his buddies until I talked him into looking into the armed services where he did enlist … He works at a Nuclear power plant now.  Last I heard, he was in Oklahoma.

I cannot express the words of dismay regarding all that has gone on over the past years.  I’ve worked to survive, my dog has been killed by these people, and I am supposed to take it and be quiet.  Savages is what they are.  Now the two boys are acting the same way.  I have no desire seeing them ever again.  I am sorry I took them to movies with my allowance.  I am sorry I bought for them, let them stay at my house when Dad kicked them out.  I am not appreciated and here is the final word for the first born child- $1.

George Aaron Taylor, (half brother 12 years my junior) hired an attorney to send me a copy of the will and make sure I understand I am only getting $1 and to not contest nor argue.  He is dead.  July 4, 2016.  I felt him die that weekend and had considered contact but something told me to just keep my distance so I wouldn’t have anything else stolen.  When Jean died, a guy came asking me to come take care of my mother, she was real sick and needed me bad … same thing when Dad went officially blind.  Again, something told me to keep my distance. I had my entire life turned upside down so many times for these people! they even got away with it when I was an adult with a teenage son to support.  I don’t think I was wrong to not turn another cheek.  Especially since I’d run out of cheeks for their convenience.  I am not trash.  George Aaron acted like I was trash the last time I saw him, he was giving me a ride to Dallas from Winnsboro because of car trouble.  He was mean/rude & hateful as I had even asked him to let me out anywhere and I’d hitchhike the rest of the way.  He has 2 girls, grown & married now, I believe.  His wife had told me years before, that they fought a lot and she was miserable & thinking of leaving him.  Oh well, sounds like history repeating itself.  I exited all this soap opera drama as fast as I could.  I hated being hit or slapped.  As a kid, I got that a lot and it was the reason behind Ma, Pa, and Aunt Willie fussing at Dad & Jean.  I actually saw Aunt Willie pull Jean outta a car window over them whipping me for eating after school when they’d forgotten to give me a lunch or any money.  Everything was so tight, money wise, that I could not believe they procreated. I was sent to school in shoes that the soles were coming off. How humiliating can life get?

I think Dad left me only the $1 because he knew that somehow I would survive without him trying to help me over the years.  The boys weren’t that lucky.  Both leaned really hard on them with George Aaron constantly insisting to Dad that he leave him the house in Dallas.  LOL, that was the 3 room house at 7839 Ferguson Rd., Dallas, TX.  He had it torn down after it was vandalized many times and finally sold the property.  Aunt Willie said he got a million dollars for it because it was now zoned prime commercial apartment buildings only.  When Jean quit her job, left the house on Ferguson Rds, taking the baby boys with her to E TX where Dad was, Dad’s car and dump truck were stolen right out of this back yard.  No one saw anything, and I quote that.  He wasn’t liked much.  PS they took the collie dog too. My memory of this place consisted of a huge tree in the backyard in which I loved to sit up high and read.  It was the only quiet time I had.  Of course I could not do that unless someone was at home because I wasn’t allowed to let anyone know I was there. I felt everywhere I went was going to be just temporary…

more to come

 

 

 

 

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