Surviving Aunt Betty

Thank you for visiting my blog. Since June 5, I have been sharing "my story." My original intention was to write about fathering, however, it has become more than that. This is the first time that I have written this much about my life. I have noticed it is getting more difficult to write about these events, especially the two years with Aunt Betty. If you haven't already, to best understand this post, you may want to go back to June 5 and begin reading. Keep in mind as you read, that this is "what God has brought me through."

Janet, my youngest sister, was born in October, 1960. Within a few weeks, Terry, Doug, Janet and I were picked up by Aunt Betty and taken to live with her on the south side of Ft. Worth. In one sense, it was an honorable thing. Her sister, our mother, could not care take of her children. CPS threatened to take us, possibly permanently, so she helped her little sister out by "rescuing" the children. I am not sure what the plan was. Aunt Betty was divorced and had two teenagers not living with her. She was also an alcoholic. We never saw our mother again.

Betty Jenkins Henry was the oldest of three sisters. Margaret was the middle sister and Beverly was the baby. Their father died by falling off of an oil rig in Venezuela. His death also had a catastrophic affect on their mother and the three daughters. The mother became addicted to gambling. Betty became an alcoholic, Margaret was very sick and died in her early thirties (she may have also been an alcoholic). Beverly was also quite possibly addicted to some type of drugs and or alcohol. The mother of the three girls was killed in a car wreck shortly after Beverly was married.

It doesn't take a psychologist to figure out that a single woman, who is an alcoholic, had no business taking care of four children, from an infant to a six year old. If CPS had done the right background check, this would never have happened.

I have many memories of our time with Aunt Betty -- very few positive. She took us to the circus several times, and took us to visit our grandmother, aunt and cousins in Connecticut. I remember along the way stopping at Howard Johnson's and eating ice cream. The point of the trip was to see if our Grandmother or anyone in Connecticut wanted four small children. No one volunteered, so we went back to Texas with our aunt.

Once we got back, everything continued to go downhill(if that was possible). Betty's drinking problem became worse. She drank most of the time, and also would often lay in her bed, passed out, completely nude. She would have men over, who didn't seem to care that there were children in the house.

Janet and Doug probably suffered the most. It was not unusual to find Janet, in her room, completely covered with feces. There would also be feces all over the walls and floor. My brother Doug, who was about three or four, "ran away" from home one time. He was picked up by the police and brought back to the house. Betty tied him to the bed and beat him, leaving him for several days. Terry and I brought him food and water.

On one occasion something woke me up, and for some reason, I decided to get in bed with Aunt Betty. She was passed out in her bed, no covers, lying completely nude. I crawled in bed and was immediately cut with the shards of glass that were covering her bed. What woke me up was a brick a "boyfriend" had thrown threw her window. The glass went everywhere, over the entire bed and her body. I can still remember trying to get out of her bed, trying to avoid the glass.

Terry and I knew Aunt Betty's problem was her drinking, so one time we hid all of her wine bottles. She came home with another boyfriend, and they started chasing Terry and I around the back yard until we gave them their wine.

Often I would go behind the detached garage and hide, play in the sand, and dream of being somewhere far away. I can remember one of the first movies I saw was the Wizard of Oz. I can also remember building roads. These roads in the sand took me to a different world.

Terry and I once again began our search for food. Minnie, the lady across the street, would sometimes feed us when she could. But we often went without. I can remember climbing cabinets looking for something to eat. One time we found a jar of peanut butter, and this became our meal. There are many other things that happened during this time, that for right now, I will not mention. Needless to say, this was probably the toughest two years of my life. However, it was during this time that I had my first spiritual experience.

Next: My First Spiritual Experience