My life started off pretty good. I was being raised
by my mother and grandparents. My birth father had been
long gone. My life was happy. I was always surrounded by
horses,(I love horses) and dogs. I had friends and cousins
to play with, aunts that protected me, uncles that guided
me, grandparents to spoil me, and a mom that loved me.
It was a happy childhood.
Then mom remarried when I was six.
Things were okay for about a year. My stepfather stayed
busy working and mom was having a baby. I was excited
about being a big sister.
When the baby was born, my nightmare started.
My mom let me hold the baby and play with my new sibling.
My step-dad didn't. A jealous animosity started
to develop in him toward me and I was slowly being
pushed aside. Mom eventually caught on to it and it stopped,
for a little while at least.
For the next year or so things were tense, but tolerable.
Then mom went to the hospital and had another baby. For some
reason, during the hospital stay, my dad got kind of lonely
and he called me into the bedroom. That is when the sexual
abuse began. The usual threats of being beaten or sent away
if I told anyone were there. The physical abuse to back up
the threats began shortly after that. I was eight,
and my childhood was coming to an end.
Over the next two years the abuse slowly escalated to an
almost weekly, if not daily thing. If I dressed wrong or
didn't like a certain food or if dad had a bad day at the
job, I was beaten. When mom was out of the house,
he would take every advantage.
I had a secret, a terrible secret, and it was getting
harder for me to contain it all. I needed some
type of mental relief. In the early 60's abuse was not a
talked about topic and people still were not believing the
brave children that came forward with reports of it.
I needed help and couldn't ask for it.
My relief came on a Monday night, at 7pm, on a warm August night.
A new show was airing on TV and I was allowed to watch it. From the
start of the theme song to the ending credits, The Monkees had me hooked!
I found my relief. Micky's humor made me laugh. Peter's boyish
innocence and naivety reminded me of that which I had already,
by the age of ten, lost. Mike was the big brother I longed for.
He was a take charge and solve every problem in 25 minutes type of guy.
Then there was Davy. He liked the same things I did. He loved horses,
so did I. He liked going to the beach and romping around with friends.
So did I, but I could do so only under certain "conditions". He showed
me that it was okay to fall in love even though I was afraid to.
But, it was what I saw in his eyes that really got me....
A certain deep concern that went way past just the character on TV.
It was that look in his eyes that made him my favorite, even to this day.
From that Monday night and every Monday after everything stopped
at 7pm. My friends had to wait, my mom knew not to disturb me, Dad was
at work, and I sat in front of the TV and stayed there. Whenever the
abuse would happen, a daily event by this time, I would take my thoughts
off of what was happening and start thinking about the show.
I would quote every memorized line to myself and sing every song to
myself. I had gotten hold of every magazine containing articles about
the guys and used that also to cope with my problems. After the series
ended, the re-runs kept me going for two more years. I had gotten
permission to buy used albums and played them till they wouldn't play anymore.
When the reruns ended and my magazines were thrown away (not by me),
I turned to drugs for my relief. The abuse continued until I was
seventeen. I was a mess.
By the time I met my would-be husband I had already taken several
drugs and was drinking. My fiance' was told about the abuse and he
was understanding and patient. He made me, with love, get rid of the
drugs and give up smoking cigarettes. He showed me what love is, but
I was only accepting just so much. My mind was really confused and I
was really mixed up about what and how to show love to this kind man.
In the mid-80's, at a little church, I found the meaning of love
that I had so longed for and had forgotten about. God came into my life.
I was forgiven and I was learning how to forgive. I still had a lot-
I mean a lot- of anger towards everyone in my life, especially my dad.
But, I was determined to live a Christian life and the anger and hatred
had to go.
When, through God's help and prayer, I forgave my dad for all that
he had done to me; all of the hurt, pain and anger melted
away from my heart. I started to learn how to love.
I started to let down my defenses.
I learned to live without fear.
It was around this time that another Monkees tribute was being aired
on TV and I found myself just as interested in them as before.
Only this time not as a means of escape. This time it was pure
entertainment. My own child also became hooked on them during the
80's and still is to this day.
When my child told me this past June that VH1 was to air a Monkees
movie, I was hooked yet again. I found myself surfing
the pages of the web to find out information on them.
I was really amazed at the wealth of facts out there.
That is how I met Jan.
I shared with Jan a little of why the guys have a special place
in my life and she asked me to share my story.
The last fifteen years of my life have been the best. God has blessed
me with three beautiful children. My husband and I are both ministers.
Part of my ministry is counseling others who have been abused and helping
them past the pain and on to full, rich lives.
I am thankful to Davy, Peter, Mike, and Micky for (unknowingly to them)
giving me happiness when there was none. No one is on this earth by
mistake. We are all here for a purpose. For me, a very tiny part of
their lives was to give a little joy to those who could find none.
I would like to meet them just to say thank-you.
Thank-you for my laughter and your talents.
Thank-you, Heavenly Father, for loving me......
THE NEWS PAGE
HOME-THE DAVy JONES WORSHIP SITE