The police gave him a talk but left when he said I slipped and by the look on his face, I knew I’d better say nothing. So that is exactly the story I told.
It was just about every day he did something abusive.
He finally made me quit my job.
I moved back in with my parents. He went back to his home down the street and within days was staying in my room with me. I went into our room my parents were supportive of him wanting to “work on our issues for the sake of the baby”. His family had told me he was just young and this is just how guys are.
steve left for basic training in the Air Force. These days were great. He missed home and was writing all the time saying all the right things, how he had changed, so sorry, love you to much to do all that again…..etc.
On April 26, 1989 my mother and I drove to watch him graduate from basic training. On the drive home, in the middle of a massive standstill on the turnpike due to an accident with a truck carrying gas, I went into labor. My beautiful son was born that day in Lehighton, Pennsylvania by emergency C-section. While I was being cut open he was complaining that now he won’t get back to party with friends now. Steve also ask how long if it all I would look normal again. He said I looked bad. He said so many rude or hurtful things, and the nurse hold my hand as I cried and she whispered to me to just focus on my new little baby.
That night he left me in the hospital and went home to party it up with his friends back home. Five days later he returned to Pennsylvania to pick me. Within weeks we had moved across country to Montana where I didn’t know a single soul.
While in Montana I received: two black eyes, had a huge needle stabbed in my leg (for not sewing his patch in his uniform well enough), a glass plate broken over my head, dinner thrown against the wall because it wasn’t what he wanted, yelled at for smiling and saying thank you to the boy that helped us out with the groceries, had a tooth knocked out, was pushed down some stairs and I was choked with his hands leaving marks.
One night after he had been gone 4 days, I got a call from Steve. He said “I am heading home now with some friends and when we get there you’re going to have sex with all of them”. In the background, I could hear voices in the car and by his tone, I knew he was serious.
I called mom in back in New York and about 7 minutes later three kind men were at my door, each holding a black trash bag. They told me my mom had called, and explained that they were from my church and I had 5 minutes to shove whatever would fit into these bags. I just took baby stuff and a change of clothes. I left everything else I owned and I was driving off as Steve passed by with three guys and pulled in the driveway.
The next day I went to the bank to take out some of the money I had earlier deposited from my personal tax return. I was too late. Steve, my dear husband, had emptied the account just as the bank was opening and there wasn’t a single cent left.
Someone called my from the Air Force base. I was asked to talk to the base Chaplin and tell them what was going on. I told them everything. The next day about half the money was returned. Josh and I went back home to my parents.
It wasn’t much more than a month until Steve was back in town. I was notified that he was “dishonorably discharged” from the military for all that he had done to me. He was really, really mad at me.
Now he was home, angry and he was drinking a lot more and often.
I got a job working with special needs clients in residential homes. I had an incident with him coming to my job and banging on doors, windows, yelling all sorts of obscenities while threatening to break down the doors. At one house he did break in the door and the police showed up.
And at another home, when I left to go to my car he was there and was pushed down on the hood of the car and tried to fight him off while held me down and I cried while he raped me. I didn’t say anything to anyone about this one because I thought at the time since we were still legally married it didn’t count. I didn’t ever press any charges because they said he would be out the next day while waiting sort it out in court. The whole time we were together, I never once filed an official report. I was scared of the repercussions not only for my son and myself but other family members as well. He threatened them also. He had told me many times that if I ended up causing him to go to jail it would be much worse when he got home.
I went to see an attorney. It took a while but I earned enough to retain them. Steve kept coming by my parents’ home and getting upset. Then he would say sorry and it won’t happen again. Also, I never received this entire time, a cent from him. Nothing.
The last incident I recall took place in another bathroom. He said he wanted to talk about his family being able to visit his son, so I was to come talk to him on his front lawn. Once I made it just about to his yard, he came out from behind a car, grabbed me and drug me kicking and screaming into the bathroom. No one else was home. For the next 4 hours I was punched, slapped, slammed into walls, given a bloody nose, had the shower curtain wrapped around my head so I couldn’t get any air, my shirt ripped open, soap shoved in my mouth, some sort of cleaning stuff poured on me and the whole time begging him to stop. I laid on that floor bleeding for what seemed like forever while he got more upset and would kick me for crying. Then he flipped me over on my back and put both hands around my neck and chocked me so hard I would feel like I was going to pass out. This happen twice and then on the third time I had pretty much told myself that I was going to die in this horrible bathroom because the person who said he loves me is about to kill me. I don’t know if I passed out or what I just know things got fuzzy and then I felt like I was waking up and breathing heavy. The last 45min or so was me talking me way out of that room. I got out and ran down to my house.
I moved to Utah.
I began working two jobs and earned enough money to file for divorce.
Married a wonderful man who adopted Josh.
To this day my ex has never sent a card, money or helped Joshua out in any way.
Almost 20 years later I found myself testifying in court in a case where he had done the same sort of thing to a woman in Idaho. The prosecutors in Idaho felt like he was going to get only a “slap on the wrist” if I didn’t tell my story to the court so after all this time I finally found my voice. I am so very sorry I didn’t report any of this or pursue this legally. Maybe if I had, no one else would have had to experience the things I did.