Children in the Closet - Prologue

 

Prologue

 

               I was the first one to wake up that morning in late August of 1957. I stretched my legs out until they touched my sister’s back as she lay sleeping across the foot of the bed and wiggled my toes to nudge her awake before turning over to face my other sister, sleeping by my side. Our little brother was tucked in the lower corner where my sisters’ feet met, thus forming a small corral for the two-year-old so he wouldn’t fall out of bed. We were like four little peas in a pod sleeping together in the same bed. We each had our own cover which we clutched around our shoulders Indian style except for the baby. He had a small crib blanket tucked over him.

               As we blinked our eyes open, our first thoughts were on the adventure we would be having that day! Mother had promised we would all get to ride on a train that would take us to Kansas City to be reunited with our daddy. He had left a few days after our new baby sister was born just weeks earlier so he could get an apartment ready for us and would be there to meet us at the station.

               The suitcases were already packed and lined up by the door. Our family of six – and now seven since our sister’s birth - had been living with Granny and Grandad for the past two years. They were Mother’s parents and Granny did not like our Daddy, no matter how hard he tried to please her. Daddy’s family lived in Kansas City and that’s where he had met Mother and that’s where I had been born and that’s where we were all going to live now.

               Even though we were just children, we knew that we weren’t really welcome here and were so happy to be leaving! I got up and dressed, helped my sisters get ready and then changed my baby brother’s diaper and put clean clothes on him. We went out to the kitchen where I made toast and fixed each of us a bowl of cereal. Even as I was putting our breakfast on the table, you could feel the tension in the air. I was only eight years old, but I could tell by the grim face of my Granny and the set of her thin straight lips, that she was angry. Granddad, who was normally a kind and gentle man, seemed upset as well.  I could not for the life of me figure out what on earth we had done to make them so mad but I knew it wasn’t good and that they could not wait for us to leave!

               While we ate our breakfast, I watched Mother getting our brand new baby sister dressed and fed. She was still a newborn and so very small and yet Granny seemed to be mad at her, too! There were no smiles from either Granny or Grandad as they poured their coffee and drank it silently sitting at the far end of the table. Neither of them even looked at the baby and they certainly did not ask to hold her or coo at her and they were all but ignoring us as well.

               Mother looked relieved when the taxi arrived and tooted its horn. We filed out of the house without so much as a smile or a hug or even a kind word from our grandparents. The door shut firmly behind us. We packed ourselves into the cab like a bunch of sardines. Mother held the new baby on her lap and sat up front with the driver. My two sisters and I sat in the back seat and I held my brother on my lap. Every piece of clothing we owned was in the trunk of that cab. We left nothing behind, not that we had much to begin with. We had no toys or even stuffed animals for the younger ones to hold. All we had were each other.

               Mother was just 31 years old. What was she thinking as the taxi sped away towards the railroad station? She had five children ranging in age from eight years old to a newborn. As I sat in the back seat, I couldn’t help but notice how worried she looked. What was the matter? I thought she would be happy to be leaving Granny and Granddad! We were!

               We heard the train whistles as we approached the station. The cab parked and we unloaded. My sisters were jumping up and down from sheer excitement. Only Mother, and now I, acted nervous.

The taxi drove away from the curb leaving us in a tight little group. I imagine we made a pretty picture. Mother was dressed nicely in her very best dress with a small hat on her head and wearing a pair of pretty clipped earrings with a matching necklace.  She stood there, surrounded by all her children with suitcases encircling us. Mother didn’t move. She didn’t call for a porter to take our luggage. She did not even face the train station but turned her face, instead, toward the street and began to look expectantly at the cars coming and going. We simply stood there for what seemed like a long time. Something was terribly wrong. My little sisters started to cry and my brother began to whimper and squirm in my arms.

               Finally, just as I started to ask Mother what we should do, a big black car pulled up to the curb beside us. A short, ugly old man with a fat cigar in his mouth got out and without one word started putting our suitcases in the trunk. Mother seemed to know who he was but we had never seen him before.  He looked sinister, dressed all in black with a dark hat pushed firmly down on his head. I felt the first cold trickle of fear enter my heart. Mother motioned for us to get in the back seat of his car and then she got in the front seat next to that scary old man puffing angrily on the nasty smelling cigar. The car pulled from the curb carrying us away to a completely different life. We entered a dark world full of fear and uncertainty, and once again, we were to live with people who didn’t want us.

               My childhood ended that day in August of 1957. I was one month away from my 9^th  birthday.

The following tells how the idea of this book came about.

This is what I wrote on March 23, 2015

OPENING

It was the last Saturday in January 2015. We had gathered to celebrate our brother’s 60^th birthday.  We are now all in our 60’s!  We had reservations at a colorful Mexican restaurant in the historic Stock Yards area of Fort Worth. My husband and I drove over with Nita (my younger sister) and her husband, Mike. She and I had sat in the back seat reminiscing about our childhood together and marveling that we all grew up! Our childhood was a harrowing experience and one we were glad to have behind us. 

            Deanie, the second born sister, and her husband arrived with the birthday boy, Lonnie, and his wife. Our party filled a long table! We ordered drinks and talked. Several memories were brought up and exclaimed over! I looked up and down the table at my siblings and their spouses and thought about the children we had been, the things we had survived. Perhaps these things had worked to make us the adults we are today. I am proud of us.

            Then Lonnie got all of our attention and thanked us for coming. The next thing he said was rather profound. He said, “I love you all and I am glad we had each other while we were growing up together. I’m just thankful I was a BOY or I probably wouldn’t even BE here!”

            That’s true. Mother had two other children whom she gave away.

I thought then and there – it’s time to write OUR story.

And now, 10 years later, I am sharing our story on my online journal.

Every Monday I will post a chapter here on the blog.

In 2026, I am hoping Amber will help me publish the book but I want to share it here first.