The inner strength to survive surprised me after what I endured with John. I look at pictures of myself during that time. I always wore a smile. How could that have been? My fortitude seems to have come from a simple understanding and an odd experience. At age six, Mom registered me for catechism classes. A nun taught me that God gave his only Son, Jesus, for me, and that this Jesus loved me—me! But I didn’t pay attention to much else, so I had no idea who God or Jesus really were, could have been genies for all I…
[ Read More → ]John’s mistreatment escalated. One February afternoon, when I was twelve, he drove me to his house. He gripped my wrist, casually strolled into his mother’s kitchen, and introduced me as his girlfriend. She examined me head to toe, curled her lips, and then busied herself stirring a pot on the stove. John nudged me towards the back porch. “Sit,” he said, as if I were his dog. What happened next was far worse than anything he had subjected me to in the past. On that day John forcibly stole my virginity. Until then, I had no idea what intercourse was….
[ Read More → ]I moped around in my bedroom for days, aching to learn a new dance step and see Mrs. Mauer. Her voice replayed in my head, “Never give up, never quit.” So I stood in front of my mirror and tried to dance, but my legs ignored my anemic attempts. My broken heart fell to pieces, as I plunged into a bottomless depression. I’d never see my beloved Mrs. Mauer again. My tears blurred my image in the mirror as if to wash me away. Not even my favorite songs could pull me up. I wanted to die. In November 1963,…
[ Read More → ]August 12, 1963, was a typically hot, muggy day. Bobby and I were practicing a new tap dance routine for a TV amateur competition show. Mrs. Mauer said we were “pure harmony.” I practiced in front of my mirrored closet until I wore myself out. Mom bragged about my natural talent. And Bobby bragged about his to anyone who would listen. “Look at me! I’m a great dancer too.” He was ten. Later Mom and I were eating lunch. All was quiet. She never spoke while she ate, said it was rude. Bobby and his friend Timmy, who lived two…
[ Read More → ]The day Hurricane Donna blasted the Jersey Shore, a foretelling incident also hit me like a hurricane. Mom had stocked the house with canned goods and jugs of water, but forgot one item. “Nancy, I need you to run to Grant’s and get some candles.” “Now, Mommy?” I said. “Me? Go to the store?” “Yes, Nancy, while there’s a lull,” she said. “What’s a lull, Mommy?” “It means you need to hurry, Nancy.” Handing me my yellow plastic raincoat, Mom pointed to a pair of over-sized black rubber boots. “Put those on too.” Like it or not, I had to…
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