Let's start over...

Angela K Roberts and Susan...

This is us, Mom and I. I've been all over the place so far with this blog because that's what is in my head, confusion, disorder, disaray. We look normal right? Happy, middle class Mom and Daughter.

Susan was a full time employee of Chrysler, a Union Steward who happily kicked up the dust at work on a regular basis. She was a fighter. More often than not her fighting mood would follow her home. Of course it was all dependant on the home "situation" as to who "got it".

By the time we moved to Roseville, Michigan (which I cannot stress enough how much I hated that place), Susan was single and a year away from meeting her 4th husband. When Mom was married (and not arguing), she was happy however if there was a domestic disagreement anybody in the way would be victim...

I believe the marriage lasted a couple years, I remember the day he left. They spent a lot of time in the back bedroom, I think I heard my mother cry (never ever saw or heard her cry but that day I think I did.

I remember her telling me, very close to my face to intimidate me and it worked, "if I ever have to choose between and man and you again, you are out of here". She meant that...

1950 Trumbull just off Michigan Avenue

1987 I had just turned 17 and was being escorted into Alternatives for Girls. It was a beautiful church. I cannot remember who actually drove me that night, my mind was fuzzy, I remember feeling sick and like this couldn't be happening to me.

I was greeted by Father John and a wonderful woman who shall remain nameless because I do not have her permission. I'm sure they sat me down and gave me the formalities, showed me around the church, and Father John made a point of expressing what time prayer was.

It was very  quiet there, I was sad, sick and scared. There was one other girl there when I arrived. As time went on, I would notice that you didn't get a "sisterhood" friendly reception, you were sharing their attention, space and nobody was particularly "happy" to see you, except the adults.

I eventually found my corner and as time went on you realized that everyone was feeling like you, some worse.  One day in particular I had made "friends" with one of the girls who was crying and sick all day, I would ask her throughout the day if she needed anything and she kept saying she was fine and just needed to lay on the couch.

Later that evening she ran to the bathroom screaming..our cleaning lady and "house mother' Doris ran in to see to her. I being nosey ran up to see Doris cleaning what was left of a miscarriage.

I still was not ready for this...

The staff at the shelter made many attempts to "reconnect with my parents", ultimately that was the goal, they were not a flop house they were a fix house. Unfortunately, my parents would only hang up on them.

After the Emancipation papers came in, I stopped trying....until much later.

I remember now, calling my father years later and he said,"I thought you were dead, I haven't heard from you in a year". Wonder why he didn't come looking if he thought I was dead is what I thought.

I would cling to the adults as much as I could while staying there, helping them with charitable events, "Save Tiger Stadium"...it's the only family I had.

This is in front of the Church where I lived. This was a charity to "hug" Tiger Stadium to stop them from tearing it down...didn't work. Here I am with the bear.

Just Girl...: If you only knew half of it...

Just Girl...: If you only knew half of it...