04/15/1982
One evening in the middle of April, I was only four years old at the time. I recall taking my daily bath, and on the verge of getting dressed when I heard a gigantic pop!
That startled me so that I ran to my mom because I was scared. Afterward, I found out that the noise came from my dad cleaning his shotgun while it was still loaded. It blew a hole right into the ceiling. I don’t think mommy thought daddy was using his brains, because that is what she yelled at him after she witnessed the hole in our ceiling.
Brie yelled at my dad, “what the fuck were you thinking? Don’t you know we have people living above us?” My dad replied, “Yeah so?” Brie retorted, “You could have killed somebody you know?” My daddy was a tall man 6’1, hair dirty brown, shoulder length, and his build was thin but muscular. There was never a time when my daddy didn’t have a beer in his hand. Today my daddy and mommy had a lot to gripe about.
While they were fighting my daddy made Brie look at the hole on the ceiling and said, “See Brie, if I killed somebody there would be blood where that hole is right here. Do you see any blood? Then I didn’t kill no one, so lay off!” Then my mommy said, “Well just to make sure I’m calling the police.” My dad said, “Ooh no you won’t.” Mom said, “Are you out of your mind Lenny?” That was his real name Lenny but I just called him daddy. I idolized him and knew whatever daddy said goes. Apparently, my mommy didn’t think the same way I did and immediately she picked up the phone and started dialing 911.
Right away, Lenny ripped the phone out of her hand and pushed her into the stove; quickly hanging up the phone. The phone fell off of the receiver just dangling. When my mommy tried to grab for the phone he slapped her really hard across the face. My mommy instantly covered her cheek with one hand, crying and yelling with the other hand, pointing her finger and saying; “How dare you put you hands on me like that!” My daddy grumbled under his breath “Humph, fucking women!” He beat her real hard right in front of me. I just curled up in the corner crying in fear. I dare not say a word. I was petrified thinking he might turn on me. Then he said, “Don’t you realize I have kilo’s hiding in the basement? You bitch! Call those police and I will kill you.” I could tell he meant it too. The phone was just dangling off the hook and making a large quacking sound. I was alarmed.
I slept with my mom every night for quite some time throughout childhood due to this experience. It truly did traumatize me.
The following morning I woke up before everybody else like I always did. I saw this man I had never seen before sleeping on the yellow cot. Then I heard a banging on the front door. The banging was very hard and loud, and I heard someone say in a loud magnified voice “It’s the police open up! We got you surrounded. I was way too scared to open that door, I kinda just slink at the top of the stairwell watching from above as the police swat force kicked in our front door. I jumped up so fast. Running to my mommy’s bed screaming, “Mommy! Mommy! They’re coming! They are coming!” I hid under the covers crying like a baby.
Eventually after the air cleared I saw them put handcuffs on the man who was lying on the yellow cot, and they took him off to jail, at least that is what they told me. Then they asked me some questions about where my daddy was. I told the cops, “I haven’t seen him, but I don’t want you to take my daddy to jail because I love him and we need him. Take my uncle Jay instead he’s been there before.”
Well, they recorded, documented, and printed what I said in the Boston Herald, and that it was a hostage situation. The following day as I sat there and watched my Uncle Jay reading the Boston Herald with his legs crossed, and he then puts the paper down sucking his buck teeth, turns to me, and say’s; “Really Bea? That’s what you said?” I retorted, “Yeah! They can’t take my daddy. I don’t want them too. You seem to like jail since you keep going there.” My uncle Jay just smirked and snuffed a ridiculous laugh in the back of his throat snorting, which allowed me to laugh along with him. I’m really glad he wasn’t mad at me.
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