A Search for a Loving God Part Vll

I made a conscious decision many times a simple choice to remember certain things, sights sounds and events with graphic detail. I remember a day standing on a large granite rock protruding from the ground and looking off at a distance was a most beautiful valley landscape. The evening sun was laying gently over a patch work of land and the fall colors reflected a most amazing sight. I stood absorbing every detail & telling myself I would never forget this, and I haven't to this day. I can’t tell you the day of the week I happened upon this breathtaking sight, I can only remember the image tattooed on my mind forever. I believe the small glimpses of light and the occasional    acts of compassion did more to mold my character than all the fires of hell could.

Ever run away? Where did you go? How long were you gone? Did you have a plan or just take off blind? Find what you were looking for or hoping for? Did you leave more behind than you had do gain?

I never ran away from the Ranch, I dreamed about it almost every day. I more than dreamed I planned and fantasized about it till I drifted to sleep almost every night. I was going to escape one day. I was going to be gone and no one would ever know where I was. I didn't know where I would go, anywhere but here. There was no good plan for a kid. Where would a kid go? I would have stuck out as much as a prisoner in uniform, and there was the thought of getting caught. I didn't want to have to endure the brutal beating given those that didn’t make it. I never saw anyone not get caught, and only 2 ran away that never came back. They went to the state correctional institute for boys. I heard they beat up an older woman, stole some guns from her house and her car.

The 2 boys that never came back were at the time my 2 best friends and one was one of my roommate. They were 2 of the good guys. They never caused trouble, they didn't bully. I was angry with them, and not because of what they did, but because I didn't have a hint myself. They never shared one word with me, they just ran away. I wouldn't have gone, but they should have asked. I was disappointed and didn’t approve and found it hard to believe they would rough up an old woman.

I know that not running away was the wisest choice, but I think the punishment and fear of it is why I didn't run. I hate that feeling, the feeling of fear prevailing over me.

The start the 6th grade I had been at the Ranch for 9 months. I had actually ended the 5th grade on a high note, and was given some extra privileges because I had won the yearly award given to the best kid of each building. For every positive there always seemed to be an equal negative. I started the 6th grade on a down note. Seems I am a poor speller. I received a failing grade and failing grades mean punishment.

Punishable, Unpunishable.  Accepted, Rejected.  Praised, abased. Good, Bad. I think there is a lot of middle ground missing here. I have never understood how an ass whooping could improve my spelling.

The start of the 6th grade is a turning point for me. I think it's the time most boys try on the shoes of a man. It's in the hormones.

I lay awake tossing, turning, mind racing, and in walked the houseparent. I was facing the window and looking out, when he tapped me on the shoulder, he asked “You having trouble sleeping?" I replied that I was, and he says, "Come with me". He takes me to the spare apartment used for relief houseparent’s, guest, and the punishment chambers. He points to a double bed and says "Lay there and try that out", I did as asked, but then he lay on the bed behind me and laid his hand on my butt, then asked "How does that feel?" I lay froze, didn't speak, and felt a fear wash over me. At that moment I heard a loud noise come from the dorm area, he rose and says, "I'll be right back" When he was gone I ran to my room and got in bed. He came in later and asked if I could sleep and I said I could. I know Timothy B. had to be the one that made the noise, doing one of his dares probably. I didn't care, I was just glad a noise was made to rouse the houseparent’s attention. I know today the noise saved me from being abused, and I can't help but feel some warmth for whoever it was. I did try to tell family what he tried to do, but they said I was a liar and wasn't going to ruin the good name of a preacher. Our houseparent was a preacher.

The houseparent had about 30 or more bee hives out back, and I was the best kid bee robber of any kid in my building. I robbed them, added supers (increase hive size), and captured swarms. I was rarely stung, but when I was I kept my cool and did my work. I would scrape the stinger off later. Once I was stung I think it was 32 times, but it was a helper that got nervous when a bee crawled on his hand. He was holding a super, dropped it and ran away. The super he dropped hit the hive and almost knocked it over. We were trading a super with honey and replacing the one with honey with one that just had imitation cone. I was holding the honey filled super when he dropped his. I stayed the course and corrected the leaning hive, and set the new super on, closed the hive and then I ran and jumped in a Cesspool. I went back for the honey when they calmed down.

The houseparent had 80 hives at his away home, and I was scheduled to leave with him for 3 days to rod them, but lucky for me that hit a bump in the road. A bump called appendicitis, and although before I was looking forward to going, I was now apprehensive. Maybe God was on his job.

I would never be the same after my appendectomy. I had never had so much attention in all my life. There was a lot of pain, but it was almost worth it. There was a candy striper (nurse training for high school girls) I had seen her through the bus window when we dropped off the high schoolers. She would come by my room each night on her way out to check on me and she always gave me a kiss on the cheek. To her I was just a kid, but to me she was just beautiful. My last night I didn't know it was her night off and I lay awake, eyes watching, heart racing, my mind hoping, but she never came. I never saw her again except through the window of a school bus.

I was in the hospital less than a week. I was still sporting stitches when I got back home to the Ranch. In 1965 they cut a nice size gash in you when they performed an appendectomy. I don't know that I needed it but the DR gave my houseparent’s something to give me for pain. I was given it and never asked if I wanted or needed it. The Doctor prescribed it I had to take it.

I was back home at the ranch less than a week, and the Mrs. houseparent called me to take my meds. I took them and within the hour I was drowsy and nodding out. This was a Friday or Saturday because we were allowed to sit up and watch 1 movie after the 10PM news. I couldn't stay awake so I went to my room and went to sleep.

I went to sleep peacefully, but was awaken very abruptly, and alarmingly. I awoke to a mouth on my male appendage, and I immediately fought to get him off. He grabbed my penis and a testacle in his hand and slung me. I fought with all I could, but the stitched gash in my side made it difficult. I was afraid my stitches would rip out, but I fought with all I could. He was the oldest and biggest kid in our building so I would have a tough fight even if I was not sore from surgery.

Charles A. one of my roommates walked in just as he slung me into the shower, and screamed out at Joe S. to let me go. Joe ignored him and shoved me down. Charles picked up a large wooden handled brush and threatened to use it on Joe. He let me go and when I stood I couldn't help but grab the brush and charge after Joe. He ran away crying like a baby.

I got dressed, went and knocked on the houseparent’s door I then related the story to him. He went and retrieved Joe and moved him out of the boys unit. A few days later the houseparent drove off with Joe in tow, and I heard he was taking Joe to his personal residence to assist him with robbing his bees. The last I ever saw Joe he was sitting on the passenger’s side of the houseparent’s old truck driving away. Another boy accused me of making a trashy statement as they drove away. The problem is one of the boys told the HP what he says I said.

I was accused of saying "He's taking Joe to get his dick sucked" Did I say it, I'm not sure, but if I did it was just an utterance. The houseparent sent for me and escorted me to the spare apartment. He asked me about what I had been accused of saying and I denied it. He says, Ok then I will whip both your asses. I told him I had a right to counsel with the vice superintendent and was assured that when I was enrolled there. He yells at me that he is dealing out this punishment. I tried to resist, but he was too big too strong. He beat me and beat me and beat me, and I continued to defy him the pleasure of admitting anything. He kept what some may call switches, but these were some very special picked sticks or switches. He broke 11 on me that day, and at times beat me with 5 or more in his hands at once.

Sometimes when you’re going through things it seems like it will never end, but it does. The last thing I was told was, "Your spelling grades have been low and if they don't improve you will be back in here for more. Have you ever been beat till you were just totally washed out? You will sleep like you had taken a sedative. I went to my room, showered (the water stung my lashes) and slept.

My back, sides, and lower legs looked as if I had been house whipped. I had endured an ordeal I had feared and although I lost, something inside me clicked on, although small it would begin to grow. I knew I had some inner decisions to make, and I knew I would have to show more strength.

I wasn't one to cheat on exams, sports, or games, but I did cheat on spelling exams 3 times in my life and was caught twice. I would never have made a good card shark. 1st time was prior to the Boys Ranch, while living with grandparents. They told me I had to be good, and make good grades or they would send me to an orphan home. I cheated on spelling and was caught. The teacher made me come and sit in her lap in front of the class as punishment. Tears filled my eyes and she says "it's nothing to cry about" I told he why I cheated and I didn't to go to an orphan home. I looked up and my teacher and almost every student were crying. Less than a week and I was gone. I received a nice package from the class my 1st week at the boys ranch.

2nd time I cheated was to prevent another beating. I thought I had improved my method and could do it without detection. I also knew if I made a 100% on the test that it would garner attention. I should have not tried so hard to misspell some of the words and simply let it be natural. I also should have shot for a grade of about 80 and not 90. She knew enough from looking at my test that something was amiss. The next test she monitored me and in the middle of calling out a word to spell she tapped me on the shoulder, says "Come with me" We went out to the hall and she says I know your cheating and you also cheated yesterday. I just said "Yes Ma'am" I don't know how she knew, but for some reason she raised my shirt tail and looked at my back and asked "Who did this?" The flood waters overflowed the levee and with tear filled eyes as I told her. She says "I need to contact the authorities." I begged her no, and asked her where would I go, where would I live.

She leads me to the science teacher’s class, and shows him my back. She says, "Cheating can't go unpunished or the others would think they can get away with it, but she didn't want the principle involved" The other teacher hit a cushion on his chair and I was instructed to holler out when he did so the other students would think I was punished. I did cry out, but before it was over I was crying like I was punished and she asked why. I said "He hit the cushion 6 times; when I get home I will get 12." This would have been 12 shots with a paddle not switches and I have been paddled hard enough to lift me off my feet. She gathered the boys & told them they better not say a word about me cheating or getting paddled.

My teacher began giving me extra time and for the rest of the year I made the honor roll, I didn't cheat to do it. She tutored me, I did the work. This all from a teacher I couldn't stand before, and now for the only time in my life I felt like a teachers pet.