LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 44

For the first time in my life, I was doing manual labor! My job at Franklin Coach in Nappanee wasn't hard...filling in nail holes inside little travel trailers and staining trim...and provided a way for me to support my kids again.

Our little house trailer had two good sized bedrooms, living room, kitchen and bathroom. Joey slept with me and Tammy and Buddy, once again, had to share a bedroom. The kids hated it there but, at the time, it was the best I could do. Rent was cheap, only $15 a week.

I kept writing to Joe even though he never responded. Then one day I got a phone call from his doctor. In that call and subsequent ones, the doctor asked me all about the way Joe had been acting leading up to his commitment.

In July, I got a call from Joe. He said he was going to sign himself out. That he was "fed up" with the hospital and didn't think they were doing him any good. I told him not to do anything rash and I'd call him back the next day.

I called his doctor and told him about Joe's phone call and asked if, in his opinion, Joe should leave the hospital. He said no way! But, he added, Joe had voluntarily committed himself and could leave anytime he wanted. He said the only way they could keep Joe from leaving was if either I or his mother came out there and committed him.

Since there was no way I could afford the trip, I called Joe's mother in Florida. She refused. I called the doctor back and told him there was nothing I could do. I asked if Joe would be okay and the doctor suggested I commit him locally...which I knew I could not do.

I then called Joe back, as promised. He had already made travel arrangements and told me he would fly into Chicago and take a bus to Warsaw and gave me dates and times. Since he would be while I was at work, I told him to go to Mom's.

When I got off work, I picked up the kids and we went to Mom's. It was a joyous reunion for all of us. The kids were absolutely thrilled to see Joe again...as he was to see them. This was on a Tuesday. On Friday when I got home from work, Joe said he wanted to go to Detroit to see his uncle and brother. We left early Saturday morning and after a short visit with Uncle George and Georgie, the kids and I went up to Ypsilanti to Avanelles, leaving Joe there with a promise to pick him up at three the next day for the return trip to Indiana.

When we went to get him the next day, he said he wanted to stay a week in order to take care of some "stuff." I tried to talk him out of staying but to no avail.

The next Friday I called him to tell him we'd be there Saturday afternoon to get him...and he said he needed another week. The next Friday I again called him. This time he said he was not coming back to Indiana...that Indiana was not his home. And if the kids and I wanted to live with him, we'd have to come to Detroit. Later, when Joe wasn't home, Uncle George called me. He said to not even try to come up there to live...that Joe was incapable of taking care of himself, much less me and the kids.

On Monday I called Joe's doctor in Camarillo and told him what was going on and asked what he thought I should do. His advice, in a nutshell, was to get a divorce. He said, in his opinion, Joe could function alone...with no responsibilities. He said Joe's illness had started when Joey was born. Before that, Joe really didn't feel any responsibility for me and Tammy and Buddy because he knew I had always worked and taken care of us. But when his own child was born, that put responsibility on him..and when he lost his job at Lincoln Park, it was downhill from there. I was crying while talking to the doctor. He was very kind and said he knew it was a difficult decision to make but he thought I should think about my kids and what was best for them.

So, here I was again, having to choose between my kids and my husband. It was a no-brainer to me. My kids were my life. Did I make the right decision? I don't know. Most people, even my mother, disagreed with me. She thought I should go to Michigan and try to save my marriage. Instead, I filed for divorce.

The first of August, I got laid off from Franklin Coach. After two weeks looking for work, I took a part-time job, working Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, at a local tavern. I hated it. But the money was good. I didn't make much per hour, but the tips were more than I had made working at Franklin Coach. A big disadvantage was having to leave the kids alone. Tammy was 12, Buddy turned 12 in August...and Joey not yet two. It was a lot of responsibility on Tammy. My hours were 8 pm to 2:30 am. Tammy resented having to stay in the house on those long summer evenings. She and Buddy started fighting and every night at work, I could count on at least one phone call from each of them. Since we lived only two blocks from the bar, I could run home...and often did...if I thought their fighting deserved intervention.

In August I got a job at Holiday Rambler. I was able to quit the bar, except filling in when they needed help...which I was glad to do because of the tips. It was nothing to bring home, in one night, what I made for a week at the trailer factory.

The kids started school in Milford and I thought things were going good, again, for us. Then, in October, a couple of weeks after her 13th birthday, Tammy ran away. She went for a walk on Saturday afternoon. Since I had been called to work at the bar that night, I told her to be home by six so we could eat before I had to leave. She didn't show up. Two days later Mom found her at a friend's house. I won't go into that weekend except to say it was the worst experience of my life...not knowing if she was dead or alive. Thank God for my Dad...who was with me through it all. Mom was in Kentucky for the weekend and didn't know about until she got home late Sunday night. She was at work on Monday and mentioned Tammy's disappearance to a friend...who said Tammy was staying with them! The friend called home and had Tammy come to the duck farm, where Mom worked...then Mom called me and said to come get Tammy.

When I walked into the duck farm, I didn't know whether to hug her or slap her! After the two days misery I had gone through, I was swept with conflicting feelings. Happy she was okay...angry at her for running off. The happy side won. I pulled her into my arms and we both cried. When we got home, we spent the whole day talking. Tammy told me how unhappy she was there...how much she hated being home alone with Buddy and Joey when I worked nights...how ashamed she was about me working in a bar. I promised her I would never work another night at the bar. We'd just have to cut back on our spending and live on the money I made at the trailer factory.

Then...one day Buddy told me Tammy was being stalked. He didn't use that word..but said when they were out, this Mexican boy was always hanging around...and hung around outside the trailer when I wasn't home. Even though I was no longer working at the bar, I had gotten in the habit of going there for a few hours every Saturday night after the kids were in bed. So much for that!

The first Saturday night I stayed home, I was in the living room watching TV, with the lights off..when I saw a man at the window. In a few minutes Buddy came out and said the Mexican was looking in their window. By then I had turned on the lights and when I went outside, he was gone. This happened the next night...and the next...once I heard him try the front door, which was locked.

The following Saturday, Thanksgiving weekend, I was at Moms. Sue, my sister who lived in Kentucky was there, too. I was crying while telling her and Mom about the Mexican boy and how scared I was for Tammy. Sue gave me a small gun.

That night I sat on the couch, facing the door, with the loaded gun in my hand. There's not a doubt in my mind that if the Mexican...who I had learned was a 17 year old boy..had tried to get into the trailer, I would have shot him!

The next day, my Uncle Calvin and his wife Jan stopped by. When he saw the gun laying on top of the TV, he went ballistic! I explained what was going on and he yelled at me, "Have you lost your mind?" And I realized I had.

While I sat on the couch crying, the kids crowded around me, Joey on my lap, Uncle Calvin told Jan to take Tammy and pack us some clothes...that we were not spending another night in that trailer! It just shows how depressed I was that I not only allowed Uncle Calvin to tell me what to do, but to like it...even need it.

We followed Uncle Calvin to Mom's where he told her what was going on...yelling at her for allowing it. When I asked her if the kids and I could stay there until after Christmas...she said no. She said I had a husband in Detroit and should go to him. Mom didn't understand mental illness any better than I had before talking to Joe's doctor.

The kids and I ended up staying with my brother, Jimmy and his family. I planned to move back to Ypsilanti after Christmas. Avanelle invited us to stay with her until I got settled. I called Joe and told him what I was going to do and said he could stay at Avanelle's with us until I found us a place to live. He said no. He said that he had called my old boss...Al Klieman and Al told him he would give me a job whenever I wanted it.

Again, I was torn. Should I go back to Ypsilanti and start all over, knowing Joe was in Detroit but wouldn't live with us? Or should I stay in Indiana...near my family ...especially my brothers and sisters and Uncle Calvin ...all of whom I had grown very close to.

I never consciously made a decision. I kept working, driving from Palestine Lake to Nappanee every day. Then one day at work, a friend mentioned an apartment in Bremen she had looked at and said I should check it out. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I had put down a deposit and a month's rent, starting the first of January. So. We were staying in Indiana. Bremen was about 35 miles from Warsaw, just close enough to visit whenever I wanted to.