Memoir Monday, October 6, 1967

This week finally saw some changes, actually the previous weekend  of September 30-October 1. It seems I did go back down after all. At least a few things did get accomplished.  I did not note if they came up for me or I decided to take the bus down. Changed plans were not too rare at this point. Anyway from my entry on October 5, here is the low down. 

October 5, Thursday

 As I wrote on Monday: "Saludos amigo. Another dreary Flagstaff Monday. I rode the bus up from Sedona last night after going to see Al Nuanez and leving Junior, poor little battered burro, there. He got dragged about fiity yards and wore some nasty sores on him, poor baby. Most donkeys I would not mind so much but I felt so sorry for him because he has always been sweet. Puani, Cyn Mas and Twinkles are on a pasture and the other four are on the lot in Clemanceau at what is the family's new, probably temporary, home. It is so weird to know Dusty lived arond there and worked on those little shacks about twenty years ago, probably his first stop in Arizona after leaving the navy and moving west.  He might have lived in that very one and most certainly did something on it at some time. Of course it is not permanaent, but it is a damn sight better than a tent or a barn.

But that is behind me until next weekend at least. I hope longer as I have literally heaps and scads of things to do.  So back to today. It is Thursday right now. I have a bunch of new clothes and have taken up lots of hems etc. Classes have rolled along. I got a letter from Mary, a box and a letter from Mama Witt and a new record in the mail so far. I mailed off the affidavit on Tuesday morning so it should have gotten to them okay. This evening I struggled with accounting for awhile and then wrote a couple of letters on the typewriter. I turned my Appaloosa/Nez Perce paper in for Adv Comp on Tuesday. Everybody is all excited about homecoming events. I'm not terribly enthused biut I hope i can stay here this weekend anyway. There is always a chance that Dusty will be in town or passing through for one thing. I wonder how the hearing came out today, I probably won't hear until I go down unless they come up for me tomorrow  and I'll have a small fit if they do.

I got a new gold kilt skirt to wear with  my navy sweater and socks to the game, I'm afraid my boots won't fit over the heavy soclks though. So I don't know what shoes I'll wear. Maybe I'll just wear nylons. It is almost 11:30. I didn't take much of a nap having gone to Colleen's Stanley Party this afternoon and been busy the rest of the day. So I'll be about half dead in the morning again. Maybe I'll really sleep late on Saturday and Sunday. Hae to see the parade at 10:30 and the game at 2:00 on Saturday and get some numbers for Charlie Mike with a walk in the rail yard on Sunday. Except for that, I'm free as a bird. Okay, more homework to do...but I won't worry about that now. So long then. Off to the showers with me.

Explains needed? Some. I did go down and had a part in the folks moving to the little house they rented in Clemenceau. How they swung or found that I do not know or recall. The animals got moved and how or why the one little burro went to the Verde Valley School, I draw a blank, even how he got dragged. Trying to lead him or move him behind the truck? Or load him or ???  Was I the one who dealt with Mr Nuanez? Again no memory. I dimly recall having dinner in Sedona while waiting for the bus but with whom I have no idea. So much is still a vague, fogged jumble at this point.  For the moment, the horses were covered and that was a relief. I do not recall where the three young mares went but a pasture around Cottonwood somewhere.  Chief may have been staked to a hitching post but  Leo ran loose in the yard by the small house. Buzzie and Lyno were there also. Of course The Boss was totally obcessed with 'legal' stuff so I guess Charlie Mike and Mom feed the four anyway and saw they had water. There was room for them to walk around enough that exercise was not an issue. And I did get a typewriter. It was a small portable that I found at a pawn shop or second hand store in Flagstaff  and got for a very moderate cost. It served me well for a long time. I invested in easy-erase bond--a ream?-- and used a bit of wite-out at times as I was not a great typist but did get better over time. Summer roommate Colleen was engaged or married to her on and off boyfriend now and had the Stanley party to get her household  set up. 

Pictures? Here are a few from that site, anyway. I did get some there. First I am holding Buzz and  Lyno in the dirt street in front of the place. Next shows Leo, Chief and Ringo, the little dog, in the yard and then Mom holding Chief with the house in the background. It really wasn't bad--two bedrooms and a bath with functioning necessities. It was probably  roughly furnished since they had nothing of that kind It was mayabe more rustic than this looks but not a real dump or shack. 

Monday Memoir, September 29, 1967

 For several weeks I still rather felt like the old Roman Riding with a foot in two vastly different lives or worlds. It was stressful and tiring. I also still seethed at the stupidity and non-necessity of it all. It was just so wrong, so foolish, so really pointless!! I worried about the horses and my brothers. I figured whatever the parents suffered, it was their own damn fault and totally deserved. I can now feel more sympathy for Mom than I did then but still see she allowed it to happen when she could have got up and left several times previously which would have changed things. But she would or could not. As for my male parent, it is almost a case of forgiveness is in the dictionary! Even after all these years, about 58,  my wrath is mostly for the animals and Charlie Mike and Alex beause although I did not go scott free, it damaged me pesonally much less than the boys.

I managed to write only once during this week but dumped a lot of thoughts and some events in that sole entry in my neglected journal. Oddly I had basically left the daily diary practice and moved to a simple journal where more thoughts and impressions were recorded than a recitation of events. It was a gradual evolution begun in the 65-66 era..

Sept 27, Wed

I don't find much time even to think, much less write. I have been awfully busy since I got back here. Sixteen semester hours and nineteen are different animals entirely, no mistake about it. And as you get into the upper level 200 and 300 courses, there is a difference too. 

Went down 'home' for the weekend --bad scene. I don't think this place at Bridgeport will work. I wish there was a safe place for the horses for awhile so they could just leave. It rained like hell on Sunday and we drove up Oak Creek over rock slides in the evening.Probably good it ws teh big truck. Mostly I just try not to think of what is going on down there. I'd blow a tube if I did.

I was just sitting here writing  and waiting to go to Rodeo Club when Colleen came so I had to talk to her and then we went over. Lots of new faces--hope some of them stay and sort of hope I can find an unattached male...maybe. I really have to organize my time better. I'm running around frantically and not getting much done. Of course I have been rather sick for nearly a week now which doesn't help and I do have a pack of troubles on my mind.  I got lots of mail Monday, nothing yesterday and a letter from Judy today. I finally got an answer written and mailed to Mary's letter that came at home. She is staying in Tucson at UofA to be near her parents. I am really going to miss her. She has an awful lot of common sense and understanding. I really counted on her being around. Like I told her, . it leaves a hole in my life. 

However it is kind of cool to have a room to myself too. In a year's time I have accumulated a bunch of things and am pretty well set up. Just now I am not sure what more I need besides dry cleaning for some clothes and maybe buying a few amaller things.  I'll give that some though the next few days and maybe go shopping on Friday or Saturday. I'm going to work on the Rodeo Club Homecoming float probably. I might really have some fun and hopefully they'll have refreshments. So it could save my buying a meal.. I still have only a five day meal ticket, not the best idea. It's now 9:30. I've cleaned my room and am now listening to records and bothered by stomach ache. Must have some kind of flu bug. 

Last weekend was kind of bad news. Of course I wonder what's gone on since, but "I really don't want to know." I bet Roxie is still mad as a wet hen. Trouble and problems! If they have to leave there at least they don't have too much to take, no problem really except the horses. But how it wil ever end, I do  not know, I am so sick of it all, anyway. Because I'm convinced that it was NOT necesasry or ineveitable

I'm going to make a schedule . I never do stick with them for long, but I can try, can't I? And maybe someday I will. Phoo. it's no use trying to keep a diary or journal anymore. Have I just outgrownn it? At least I have all my old ones now but there was a box of my old toys, souvenirs and clothes etc.that we forgot in Charlie Mike's and my shed. I wish I could have Buzzie up here. I could keep her at the Powwow Grounds for free, just feed and take care of her. I wonder if I could swing the feed? I think I could, getting pellets at $3.00 per 80 pound bag. Feed her about 5-6 bags a month, no grain because they're complete nutrition. Maybe I'll try to work something out with Joann. It's an idea anyway.  I think several rodeo club members have horses out there. 

Again photos are not really available but I'll put something in just to break up the dullness of nothing but text.  First the powwow grounds as seen the next summer,. Not visible were some barns or stable buildings near by.  Then Lyno and Buzzie near that time. They were not real plump but not too bad. They were never denied feed.

Monday Memoir, September 22, 1967

Back at NAU, I fwlt like I had been zapped from one world to another. The change and the shock was so abrupt and complete. I had plenty to worry about still too, with much concern for my brothers and the horses for which I knew something must be done soon. I was frustrated not to have two of myself. I was also exhausted and staggered by the combined effects of stress and hopping life to life.  I could hardly think, much less write. But I did some on Septermber 17 and 19 which follow. 

September 17, Sunday

Looking back it all seems incredible. That was the wildest, weirdest 'vacation' I ever had, actually the weirdest three weeks I ever spent. Yesterday I was both crazy busy and in a state of mental and emotional exhaustion so I could not think, much less write, I ran all over town to get my loyalty oath notorized, shop etc. But I am here and registered. My schedule is not quite to  my liking but I  was lucky to get all my classes at the last minute that way. I can't believe they've upped me to $800 a semester but maybe...what about summer school? I wish I knew because then I'd know how much to spend. But I wil put $200 in Arizona Bank in savings where I will only touch it in dire mergiencies. Then I really may get a typewriter and/or a sewing machine. Think I wil like having a single room. It is quite pretty with light green walls to set off my pink rugs, pink and green dresser scarves, comforter with pink and green spring flowers and new print curtains. Isn't privacy worth $25 more and a little loneliness?  I wonder where Mary is. I haven't seen her yet. I do hope she is here. I'm also anxious to see Joann Kendall and a bunch of my other "good buddies." I have already written to Jim and the folks (at the Cottonwood  PO box) and plan to write several more letters to mail in the morning. Also have to do some ironing this evening but I plan to go uptown again soon and look at some clothes. I am a little restless today and feel expensivve (ha ha)

I am not sure what that loyalty oath thing was about. Something for the folks in their ongoing legal efforts to try to get redress and compensation for all they had suffered?  I do not think it had anything to do with the college. I was not getting a NDSL loan at this point but that should hardly require an oath! It stays a blank spot, one of many that will crop up. Maybe traumatic brain injury and amnesia?!?

September 19 Tuesday

Well here I am watching the front desk in the Honor Dorm. A task we all had to share. There was a Head Resident but no assistants. so duty rotated. I had bolted my supper to get back by 6:30. No sign of Mary. Can't understand. And no sign of Forester Ray either although his sister and most of his old gang was there. So far everyone in HD is friendly but I still get rather lonesome. I almost wish I had a roommate but this is really best for now. It's been frantic as hell every day. I guess the slowest day was Sunday. I got a bunch of letters off yesterday and also got my new campus mailbox. They are busy sorting and havenn't got mine yet. Nothing still? Ha, be patient! Now I have been to all my classes except the one I am changing. They said I had no business taking  Gen Biz 100 so I am changing to Data Processing, I'll complete the switch tomorrow. This semester I am taking Intermediate Accounting, Advanced Composition, Intro to Psychology, American Government, Basic Marketing Management and Intro to Data Processing. It was a pretty serious course load. I now have all my checks but still have to pay my $156 registratiion fee. And I really do need to get a typewriter. I'd love to get a sewing machine but... They have an old wreck of a typewriter at Goodwill but I think I can do better. I may post some signs and check in stores uptown. However my finances are somewhat limited as I'll have about $164 after the reg fee but I plan to bank part of that for future and my insurance and record bill will take $35.  My project tomorrow will be the typewriter search. 

I have been so exhausted. I woke at 7:45 this morning and had to be in Adv Comp (English) by 8:00 so skipped breakfast of course. I did snatch a couple of hours of nap today and cut down on the running around. Maybe I can be a little more energetic now.  I have a lot of studying to do. I really should hike down to the library because if I stay in the rtoom I will mope more than study.  I need to wash some clothes and do some other things but maybe that should wait. No news from "home" of course.  I reckon they aee doing "ok".  Of course teh backlash of the strain is what has hit me the last couple of days.  One does run down after awhile. But my strength will build back soon I think. I need to get my teeth worked on. They ached and kept me awake last night. It ws pretty miserable so I slept very poorly. I wonder if the Rodeo Club meets tomorrow. Maybe they will have some posters up. I should try to find Colleen and  see if she'd like to go and I also want to see Joann. I still can't understand what has become of Mary. If only Dusty hasn't pulled the pin on me. I wrote him--maybe shouldn't have but I did. I don't think anyone will read it becasue it looks like a bill or something from J. D.Martin, Four Star Services. (tee hee). I am too clever for my own good sometimes and I will surely come to a no good end!

Pictures are scarce and hard to find. I did have one of my room but it was lost in the crash of my hard drive in 2018 along with a bunch of others  I had recently scanned and then pitched, DTBL. So here are two not very good with old color film in my little Kodak that faded badly. Approps as "through a glass darkly" was how I was still seeing things. It took a couiple of months to get back near semi-normal. View from my room, I think it was #151, and the front of Campbell Hall. 

Memoir Monday, September 15, 1967

 It really feels like something I read or saw on a screen somewhere. Was it a real experience, a hallucination, a nightmare or just a 'bad trip' for me, although  I never tried recreational drugs until I was frankly old. Who knows?

Again from my post-event notes, about September 17, 1967

Did we really ‘camp’ there in the canyon for two weeks or was there some interim place? I draw a blank. I have a few photos but they give no time frame. I do recollect almost constant harassment. We were “trespassing,” the health department was worried about sanitation; the boys were required to start school, at least Alex, and Charlie Mike was not eager or willing to quit yet. The horses were scrutinized daily for proper care and signs of neglect or abuse. I dimly recall arguing fiercely they were indeed cared for with feed, water and exercise daily and did not need to be impounded for their welfare. There was a lot of harrassment and many official and private citizens came by with comments, threats and some demands. A few offered help, a very few. We could not stay there indefinitely!

Aunt Roxie came during the interim, loudly and profanely furious. She negotiated for a house up in Mescal Canyon below Jerome, but it had no place for the horses so Dad would not consider it. Everything was still unsettled when she had to go back and start her school term. Arguments raged. Finally on September 14 we began trooping down to Bridgeport, first moving the animals, by my count seven equines and one small burro. The family would then “move” into a barn at a place where Charley Bryant was or had stayed. I guess there was some space for the horses on the small farm. But we had two studs and five mares, all bunched together. Luckily no mares were in season. 

The next day Roxie drove me back to Flagstaff since the final deadline for registration was getting very close. I was so grateful for her help because I had begun to worry how I would get there. I did not even have bus fare. If I did not register on time, my aid would disappear and a year would be wasted. I was also very thankful most of my things were safely stored in Flagstaff and took a few more personal items back with me. Later I remembered a box in the shed Charlie Mike and I had used for private storage. It was left behind but was just old souvenirs, clothes and some old writing. I missed a few things, but no great loss. Of course the drama was far from over although I was removed from the center of it again and only had to put one foot back down there two out of the seven days each week at the most.

On September 16 and 17 I ran around frantically to organize the second year of my higher education. I moved into Campbell Hall and had my stored things delivered; I got my next group of classes approved—thank you, Dr Downum—and registered, collecting my checks without any problem. I was amazed my stipend had been raised to $800 a semester. 

Photo: Campbell Hall, the south side of North Quad,  which became my new home starting on September 15 when Aunt Roxie delivered me there. Really the whole 67-68  school year it was the only home I had because the Morgan family--my immediate family--was soon scattered east and west. Only I was still in Arizona--I and the horses I was involved in finding homes for.  That tale will emerge in the next few weeks.

Monday memoir Sept 8, 1967

 A blank week, really. What happened? From all I can find and have memories slightly wakened, we stayed there camping in the canyon foir almost two weeks and existed under those far from ideal circumstances. Charlie Mike and I cared for the horses and he and Alex did start school. We tried to keep semi-sanitary and washed in water hauled in and maybe sometimes heated on the propane camp stove. We cooked on it was well and I think used up most of the frozen or refrigerated food, maybe getting some ice to maintain the ice chests which had used cooling packs obtained during some of Dad's advertising projects in past years, mostly before the equine epic.  Little Ringo got table scraps which had already been his diet for as long as he was with us. We may have hitched rides with a few friends as I think the big F750 was not moved although it was of course capable to drive.

I cannot remember who friends might have been beyond Charley Bryant and a few more folks we knew who were not part of the now-very-focused and concentrarted group that clearly want to abolish the Morgan Problem forever and ever. Collateral damage be damned. But there were some who helped us haul water, sympathized and were looking for a place we could land with scant funds to pay for a lease or rent and where the animals could be safe also.  

At some point, probably this first week, Aunt Roxie arrived from California--she was the only one of dad's sibs able to come as Grace and Ruth had just lost their home when it was destroyed by fire and Uncle Dan was traveling around semi-incognito after some major conflicts with Wendell Robie and others and the start of a very untidy divorce situation.  I always respected Aunt Roxie although she could be very abrasive, didactic and just generally tough. She could cuss like a sailer crossed with a muleskinner and had very strong ideas about most things. She was unabashed about proclaiming them, too. I undestood her and although I was still very quiet, almost mousy then, I had that same kind of iron core and had just begun to learn how to express and use it. She and I were genuinely kin, both blood and spirit.  However she was unable to budge her brother an inch and got madder as time went on. Talk about immoveable objects. She called him everything but a gentleman more than once and he took it but did not move an iota. 

It seems we stayed there well into the second week of September. About when Roxie was needing to go back to California to start her school year, we finally got a place to go--basically free and temporary but 'something'.  I am not sure now if Charley and Elvie still lived there but they once had, on a small farm down near Bridgeport. The family was able to 'live' in the large barn and there was a pasture of several acres where the horses could stay. It was not a huge step up from camping out but they had a roof over their heads, I think an outhouse, water sources and the insulation of a fenced property where the officials were not able to harrass them as much. Charlie Mike and I moved the horses down there about the 14th, riding and leading them. I think the burro was leadable also. One trip or two? I do not recall at all.

Again most of this is a restructure of very scattered and broken memories and a few notes later so the chronology and actual events are by no means concrete. I was and am thankful for the small ways in which we were able to exist and take a tiny step forward and up but it felt close to hopeless then though I was still only part of it for awhile. The rest of the fall saw the finale. 

These are the only pertinent photos I have, both at an earlier time but this was the place. The barn would have been behind the photographer here. In one, I see one of the Jeep pickups so that would have been several years prior. I do recall the horse, a palomino Charley was breaking and training for someone.  The peaked roof behind the Jeep might have been the barn--or not. Or maybe structures in the background in the other one. I doubt I could even find the place now if it still exists--too many years. Probably where Mingus Ave crosses the river on the bridge, maybe just below that? No matter. 

Memoir Monday,, Sept 1, 1967

And so it began. I have no record and almost no recollection of August 26-31, 1967. They obviously happened, and I imagine Charlie Mike and I watered the horses at the river and maybe started collecting things we wanted to be sure we kept.  I suspect I was moving along pretty much on auto-pilot, the lights barely on and I was surely not 'home' or all there. The following came from my after-the-fact notes.

Sept 1, 1967 Friday

On September 1, a platoon of law enforcement people arrived early in the afternoon with a big Mayflower van and several stout stevedore types. Dad had gone to Phoenix in Big Green for what purpose I no longer remember, so Mom, the boys and I stood by and watched them take everything out of both houses. We gathered camp gear, firearms and cameras, some horse gear, a bunch of supposedly valuable papers key to ongoing legal efforts, and several ice chests full of food. We stacked them across the alley. I was ordered to keep an inventory on the loading and did so as best I could.

Since some personal property is exempt from seizure for debt or bankruptcy, there was some effort to separate the categories. ”Ours” would be stored in Prescott until we could reclaim it and the rest sold with proceeds going against the unpaid rent. In reality, the storage items were not reclaimed for twenty two years.That was done in the fall of 1989, another odd part of this almost endless tale. Dad had passed away close to a year before my husband and I finally helped Mom and Alex collect this property.

A Note, aside: Long before then, after I was married, I had tried to get permission to take and store it in our home to save the monthly cost but Dad threatened to sue us and threw huge fits. Why? I have no idea!! Loss of control, I suppose. By this time, Jim and I were deemed untrustworthy and actually featured on the “enemies list” most of the time. Mom had faithfully paid the bill all those years although I had taken care of it a number of times since there were some things I hoped to reclaim eventually,

We probably had some warning, even an eviction notice before the actual event. We may have already packed some things to keep with us. Again I do not recall. At any rate, the family of five and one small dog were now actually homeless. Charlie Mike still had Ringo. When Dad got back in the evening, we loaded all we had kept into the truck and drove it down to the canyon near the corrals. There we set up camp. Tarps over the high rack on the truck made a shelter and we also put up the old 8x10 wall tent. Maybe another one too? We had already hauled down what hay we had and stacked it, brought other key horse stuff along, etc.  As I say, it is all a hazy nightmare. But that was how it began..

A few other facts. The white Ford pickup had been repossesseed after they quit paying on it since it was still not clear of the lien. That left the big old F750 their only transportation. I was really furious that Dad left when we knew the actual eviction was going to happen. I am sure he had some allegedly valid and critical business to handle.  In retrospect, it may have been wise or best  as he could have gotten into a physical or even armed fight with the officers. But to me it felt so typical of his shrugging off the hard and dirty parts and letting the family face them. I have a very dim memory of standing out in the sun near the loading ramp of the moving van and trying to annotate a list I was keeping of items as they were loaded. It was hot but not terrible that day.  To even begin to think of what was to be kept for us makes my head ache. We had some furniture and perosonal things--toys and books that belonged to us kids--and much of that we did get back with the final reclaiming, in 1989. Much of my stuff I had gradually taken up to Flagstaff even though I knew I had too much to manage well,  so other than one or two boxes stuck in the shed Charlie Mike and I had claimed and forgot about in the rush, I lost very little. In a way that is almost miraculous. I am so thankful I had that level of foresight.

A couple of photos--stark and now feeling unreal. Alex, looking lost and unsure and a general view of our "camp" The corrals were in the area above the table there.

Memoir Monday, August 25, 1967

 I do not recall and did not note whether the folks came up on August 25 or 26 and got me or I took the bus down.  Suffice that I went and was present and 'on duty' for the duration. I found what it was like to be actually homeless and how grim and ugly life can be when there are few to no friends and many--maybe well deserved but still almost implacable--enemies standing against you.  Even when compared to many bad times in the revious couple of years, September and October 1967 were among the hardest times I ever experienced. Nobody died, not even the animals that were still a big concern of mine anyway. And I did make it back to Flagstaff in the nick of time to register and go on with my schooling. I thank my Divinity--The Source as I  now term them--and my guardian angel for that. It was a close thing.

The one entry, made that Friday evening:

Aug 25, 1967

I'm pretty thoroughly po'ed about everything. I was really dumb not to take off for California while it was easy. But if things don't turn up PDQ I will still do it. I haven't heard from JJM; I think he is a little unreliable but perhaps he had to return to Tucson. I may call him in a day or two just to investigate. Of course I could take off without his help but I'd kind of like to have somebody see me off.  I'm really proud of myself for not coming absolutely unscrewed. I've kept my temper beautifully, really. But actually it does not reach me. I'm outside of it all and just not afraid. Most of my stuff is absolutely safe, my scholarship is all in order for fall etc. If "they" (** note) tried to get that screwed up, I could really turn the tables so I am not too worried about it now. All I have to do is keep my cool for three weeks--or maybe less. 

**The 'They" above may have referred to either  my parents and those 'enemies', even very possibly both. I almost recall that dad basically threatened without him to support me and fight, those "enemies" could revoke my scholarship or bring some kind of charges that would prevent me from going to college at all. That was total bullshit and I knew it but still the old emotional blackmail and abuse had impact. 

Of course when I wrote that passage, I knew precisely what I was upset about and why, not that I would not recall the gory details some 58 years later. I am sure the folks had either written or called and laid a very heavy trip on me like I had better come down right away and that my future was at risk and all could be snatched away without warning by those evil enemies that were hounding them to the brink of disaster. I was urgently going to need their help. (Ha ha--what help could they provide??) I expect they did have an eviction notice now and not sure what other threats or actions they faced. It was definitely ugly,  nasty, very bad. I was still mad they had let matters get to that point while they kept thinking. pretendng  or trusting they could wave some magic wand and win. That was total insanity but who could tell them anything at that point, especially Dad? He was bonafide off his rocker. So I believe I did take the bus down Saturday morning or even that evening.  That's all she wrote, you might say. There were no more written words until September 17 when I was back at NAU, breathng a huge sigh of relief that I had gotten there. The dreaded drama was not over but I was partly free of it again. and only had to ago back weekends to try to fix things where it was necessary. I was still imprisoned by that damned Eldest Daughter geas.  (That is an ancient word for a spell or magical control but fits perfectly.) So much seemed to be resting on me and I had to make things happen when no one else would or could.. It was duty, it was somehow demanded and necessary. 

This final crash and burn had been building, perking and developing for so very long. I had seen it coming although not understood how and when it would hit.  I had actually known since probably even before I graduated from high school. It was all so incredible, impossible and the whole enterprise a drug-type bad trip dream. All those loans and 'ranch hunts' and endless whines to the relatives for just one more "help" that would make The Big Difference. Yes, I am still bitter. Charlie Mike and I both are. I never got quite into discussing it much with Alex before his death but he harbored a mass of anger, sorrow, and perhaps a little guilt although this went down when he was just eight years old. I am sure it marked him for life. How could parents, especially a father, actually do this to his family, his children? Someday on the other side I will sit him down and tell him in detail exactly what damage he did and ask him WHY. He owes me--all of us--that. He has been gone for well over 30 years now. Long enough I hope to see and regret and vow never to repeat those mistakes again.  If we truly are here to learn and grow---well, please, may that be so.

Picture: I just searched and found a royalty free image that fits. I did not look like that but I certainly felt that way! I wanted to cuss and kick and throw a toddler level tantrum! But I knew that was useless. I slid mostly into a zombie autopilot mode instead and recall very little detail as a result.