Duck was an abused child ,not sexually just beaten.My dad was born in 1917 my mom 1923.My dad was Air force my mom a nurse.My mom so she told me ,that my dad beat me from the time I was two ,Now a days he'd have been in prison for a long ,long time. My mom told me when I was two that he would feed me baby food out the Gerber Jars and if I didn't like it and I'd spit it back out in the spoon, he'd slap me in the back of the head and tell me to eat it boy and shove it back in my mouth and hold my mouth shut till I swallowed ,that I don't remember.I remember many things because I have a photographic memory like the movie Rain Man my mind does the same things his did with numbers ,back to the story.The first beating I recall was when I was two. We the family had just got a new TV uncle Jim and Dad brought it into the house. TV's back then were nothing like todays 1959 (long time ago hungh).They were black and white ,color tv hadn't even been invented yet much less cable ,internet and wi fi. The tv had a long slendar cabinet and chair type legs that supported the console.Any way all we had back then was antenna's and rabbit ears. Me being the industriest young ladd I was made a mistake. The family sat down to dinner,the brand new tv wasn't hooked up yet. I finished first and asked to get up and I was excused. I went into the living room where the brand new tv was and it wasn't plugged in . How did I know how to plug it in at two yrs. old I don't know but I did .I pulled on the cord that wouldn't reach the outlet and the TV flipped over on its face.I took off running upstairs and hid under the bed.Asshole my dad soon found me. I can still see the coil springs I was holding on to when my dad drug me out and beat the hell out of me.I still remember my mom carrying me to the old ladys house Erma Gorham, she held me for hours telling me it will be all right Jerry boy(thats what she called me)UMMMH !!That was the first one I recall.We then moved from the city to the country(in the sticks).I grew up on the Olgesby farm started working when I was nine 50hrs a week in the summer"WHY" my dad dad told me you want something boy get a job and get it!!I did basically I supported my self after that. Let me back up a minute I left out the most severe beating. I was seven and home sick from school my brother and sister were at school and my mom had gone to town and my dad was off from Cherry Point MCAS..he was working on the toaster(things were done like that back then) any way . I wanted to see my dads military uniform that hung in the attic .And the attic door just happened to be in my room. I had a dresser below that attic door and on that dresser was an old pickle Jar (You know the big ones) filled with bullfrog tadpoles I had caught they are bigger the toad tadpoles , anyway I crawled up into the attic just to admire dads uniform only to fall coming down out of the attic and turn the dresser over and break the pickle jar . My dad comes running in with the toaster cord in his hand and says are you all right boy when I answered yes laying amoungst the glass and the tadpoles flipping on the floor,he beat the living fuck out of me with the toaster cord twenty some licks, it cut me and welted my skin then he tells me shut the fuck up boy I'll be back. I recall crying about thirty minutes before he came back into the room and said if you don't shut the fuck up crying before your momma comes home i'll kill you . I believe I hated my dad from that day on....This story is getting too long........I'll finish it in my book , believe it this beating is only the tip of the iceberge.......If some body ever ask me why I am how I am go figure........Thanks for reading........"WHITFIELD"
I'd rather live my life believeing there is God and die to find out their isn't . Than to live my life as if their wasn't God and die to find out there is ! WHITFIELD
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