1981
Upon my return to California, my mother picked me up at the San Francisco Airport. She didn’t appear to be happy about my return and was detached. She had bought a mobile home in a mobile home park in San Jose, so she landed on her feet without me. I stayed on her sofa bed but wanted to get out of there. I began working for my brother Devin, so I had an income, and found an in-law apartment with a swimming pool and pool house. Still, my mother was distant towards me, and I felt alienated from her. Fortunately, Devin lent me one of his work vehicles, so at least I had transportation.
During that time, I was going on dates with men my own age, but not particularly enjoying myself. I was dealing with depression and not fully grasping why. I didn’t think to pursue mental health services—yet. When I was 15, I had been receiving therapy in Cupertino, and my mother would start yelling at me following each session, so I quit going. Then she yelled at me for not going. I yelled back at her that she and Kelly were the ones who needed it.
When I was 20, I got really sick from strep throat, which required antibiotics. I was also laid off from my job working for Devin, as he was conducting major layoffs with his construction company, and I was one of the casualties. Wayne Howard was no longer working for Devin by then. He had stopped drinking and was going to church again. He had a girlfriend whom I’d met a few years before, when she was married to someone she eventually divorced.
I wasn’t going to be able to pay my rent, so I gave notice to my landlord, and began collecting unemployment. With no other place to go, I asked my father if I could stay with him in San Leandro. I was an adult and confident that I could handle it. While staying with him, we took ballroom dance classes together. I recall enjoying dancing the Butterfly Waltz but not the Fox Trot.
My father went out of town for about a week, which almost left me alone in the house. My ex-step brother, Lee, lived in a room off of the garage. I enrolled in school at the nearby junior college, and before he left, my father gave me the keys to his truck to drive so I’d have transportation.
As a school teacher at the local high school, my father was gone for most of the day, thank goodness. But he was still difficult to live with, and I longed to be out on my own. Looking for a job hadn’t yielded any results, and I was depressed for a number of reasons. I was collecting unemployment which paid $118 per week. Certainly not enough so that I could move out.
Finally, I sought mental health services through the church, but was in deep denial about many things. I mostly complained about my father, and the therapist tried to help me find strategic ways to cope, but I wasn’t open to any of his suggestions.
I felt that I wasn’t getting the help I needed, and my less than brilliant idea for coping, was to tell my sister in Minnesota about my previous relationship with John. I had already communicated with John from a pay phone about my plans. He didn’t try to talk me out of it. Truly, it was a cry for help on my end, I just didn’t realize it at the time. I was feeling a lot of emotional pain and needed relief. I thought that this would be the answer. It wasn’t.
To no one’s surprise, Kelly left John and flew to California with Dana. We were all traumatized, except for one person, John. Or perhaps he was just acting “nonchalant.”
I stopped attending school and left my art supplies behind in the classroom. My father was driving me crazy, and kept walking in on me while I was changing my clothes. I told him that I was going to use a do not disturb sign on the door, and to not come in while I was changing. The frequency with which he’d enter my bedroom increased. Every time I would use the sign, he’d walk in on me. So, I started changing my clothes while hiding in the closet. It was working, but there was plenty of other behavior that I found disturbing and wanted desperately to get away, but had no place to go.
I was unsuccessful at finding a job, and after giving it much thought, I knew that living at the YWCA in Duluth while on unemployment from California, was a feasible option. I could actually afford to live at the Y for less than $118 a week. I sold off my possessions and used my tax refund to buy a plane ticket to Minnesota. I didn’t tell my father, just my therapist, who in turn called my father at the school and told him. I’m not sure how I was planning to get to the airport in Oakland. Maybe take a BART train?
I was preparing to leave when my father rushed home. He asked me about my plans, and I told him. Instead of trying to stop me, he gave me a ride to the airport, and we bid farewell.
I flew to Minneapolis, where John picked me up. I wasn’t there to see him, per se, but it was a convenient way for him to gain access to me. I lived at the Y for a while but decided I wanted more privacy and found an apartment I could afford. I happily moved in and continued working for the summer at the Air National Guard next to the Duluth Airport.
Meanwhile, John managed to persuade me into giving him a key to my apartment. That was a big mistake that I had to learn to live with. Thankfully, the apartment was in my name only, and I did not have any plans of letting him move in with me. We did, however, resume our dysfunctional relationship.
I enjoyed working at the Air National Guard and could easily afford my apartment by then. After the summer was over, my job ended and so did my paycheck. For six months I went without a job. I began collecting unemployment but didn’t even try to pay my rent for those six months. My landlord, Harry, talked about taking me to court but I didn’t really think he would.
Then I got a six month position working at the Duluth Police Department. I made enough money to pay double the rent. In other words, I was paying my rent twice a month to make up for the six months I didn’t pay. My landlord and his wife must have really liked me because there were never any late fees.
During my employment at the Duluth Police Department, I flew to California for a visit. My friend Jerry picked me up at the San Francisco Airport, and believe it or not, I stayed with Kelly and Dana in their apartment in San Jose. While in the San Francisco Bay Area, I went shopping with my credit cards and found a down feather coat at Saks Fifth Avenue that was on sale and perfect for Minnesota winters. It was wintertime, and cold in California, just not 70 below freezing with the wind chill factor.
My trip to California with family went smoothly. Jerry drove me to the San Francisco Airport, and from there, I returned to the Minneapolis/St. Paul Airport, where I caught a Greyhound bus back to Duluth. The next day, I returned to work, even though I wasn’t ready for it yet. I ended up leaving my backpack behind in the chief’s office, and I couldn’t get back in because no one had a key, except for Chief Eli Miletich, the secretary, Delores, and Deputy Chief Gene Sisto. Additionally, the caretaker of the building I lived in was out of town, and I couldn’t even get inside the building, which required an apartment key.
Ultimately, I was able to convince the desk sergeant to start making phone calls so I could get into the office and retrieve my backpack. Delores declined to return to the office to let me in, which was understandable, given the harsh winter conditions. Chief Miletich said to call Deputy Chief Sisto. Sisto arrived to let me in. I didn’t just need my key, I needed the make up in my backpack if I was to get ready for work the next morning.
While working at the Duluth Police Department, I continued seeing John. Meanwhile, I still had men at my feet. I didn’t fully grasp why, and complained to the lieutenant about it, which put a stop to it. It had turned into sexual harassment by then, and was definitely unwelcome.
There was a blizzard, and most everything was closed for business. However, I had my long winter coat, and being that I lived within walking distance, I was able to walk to work in the middle of white-out conditions. It felt like a victory! But when I got to the office, it was locked, and no one was inside. I hung around, and Deputy Chief Sisto arrived to let me in. No one was expecting me to show up for work that day. It was a very uneventful day that passed quietly and without interruption. Most of the staff took the day off. I was electrified by the blizzard, and people thought I was crazy for showing up.
After six months, my employment ended. I wasn’t concerned about it, and that summer, I went to work for the Air National Guard again. They provided the transportation to and from the base, so getting there without a car was easy. I just had to walk up a hill to catch the air base’s shuttle.
At the base, I reported to MSgt. David Spears, who had a lot of influence, so I was in a pretty sweet spot. I was nervous about answering his phone while he went on vacation, and I wrote down the wrong number from a caller’s ‘tie-line’. When David got back, he called the five digit number and reached the Pentagon. Oh, what an idiot, I thought, and was embarrassed about my mistake. Basically what happened was, the caller rattled off the number so quickly, I got it wrong. David told me to, next time, advise the caller to slow down.
I continued to work at the base, and after lunch one day, one of the master sergeants stopped me on my way back into the building and wouldn’t let me pass. He wanted me to go into his RV with him that was conveniently parked near the building’s entrance. I kept telling him no, but he was persistent. Finally, he gave up, and I was able to return to the office without further incident. MSgt. Mark Whitely asked me why I was late, and I simply told the truth. Well, that didn’t end well for the master sergeant who was harassing me.
All in all, I had a pretty good time working at the base, and enjoyed my time there. Just as I had at the police department, in spite of the sexual harassment I experienced.
After my time at the base, I got a temporary job at a non-profit despite being nervous during the interview. The program manager, Wayne Bickman, asked me to tell him a funny story from a past job. I didn’t have a funny story, so I told him that I love to laugh and have fun, but I take my job seriously. He then hired me and I dealt with more sexual harassment. It wasn’t too bad; I just told Wayne one day while he was leaning against my hip, to move away from me, please. He kept his distance after that. Buddy, however, kept looking down my top. I confronted him, and he never spoke to me again.
My employment was full-time, but I was able to take two afternoons a week off to attend group therapy for incest survivors. I had been sexually abused while growing up, and the stress of being in a relationship with John was getting to me. As a requirement for attending the group, we had to write letters to our perpetrators confronting them, which I did. The end result was, I was accused of lying and disowned by my family.
By that time, I was no longer sleeping with John, although he still had a key to my apartment that he would not relinquish. The same key provided access to the building, so even if I had my lock changed, he’d still be able to get into the building.
I purchased an adorable ferret from the pet store and named him Murphy. He was hilarious and I loved him! Pets were not allowed but that didn’t stop me. I was pleased with my new pet and had a coworker watch him while I went to California for a visit. John was visiting there for the summer for Dana’s birthday, and I had purchased him a one-way ticket. I also bought a book about ferrets and went to the library to check out books on ferrets because I knew nothing about them, other than what the pet store employee had told me, which wasn’t much.
During my visit, we stayed at a motel which I paid for, and I was still refusing to have sex with John. I had completed group therapy and felt like a new person; that I was becoming the person I was meant to be.
I returned to Duluth without notifying my family while I was in California since they had ostracized me after I confronted them. I was in my early 20s and didn’t have any life experience to draw upon. And so, I was devastated by it. Hence, the secrecy about my visit to California.
It was the early 1980s, and John remained in California, while I was in Duluth enjoying my freedom and privacy. He was going to have to pay for his own plane ticket back. It took him awhile to come up with the money, but he did return. I still wasn’t sleeping with him, and after my job ended, I decided to move back to California. I had managed to secure an apartment through the mail by writing letters to different apartment complexes, and was planning to fly to California without John. This was without knowing that ferrets were illegal in California.
Being that John wasn’t going to just let me leave, he devised a plan in which he would load up his car with my belongings and drive me. So, off we went.
There was no way we were going to live together without being married, so he thought we should get married in Reno while passing through on the way to California. I don’t even remember what we used for a ring. Oh, right—I had previously purchased a nice ring for myself with diamonds in the setting.
As soon as we said I do, John’s demeanor changed. Basically, he was treating me like dirt. Was he concerned about how he would explain this to Dana and the rest of his family? He never said.
We arrived at my apartment in Fremont, and it was exactly what I was expecting it to be. An upstairs junior one bedroom with a balcony. I was very pleased. John unpacked the heavy stuff, and we carried my bed upstairs. We managed to get Murphy across the border without detection. He was in a pet carrier in the back of the station wagon.
I found employment right away at the mall in Newark that was within walking distance. I worked in loss prevention at Sears and consistently arrested the most amount of shoplifters and recovered the highest dollar amount. John found employment at the car dealership where his brother Bernie was working.
We managed to cover our rent when John wasn’t using his income to buy drugs. If it weren’t for him, though, I wouldn’t have been able to pay the full rent, on my own.
