Moms Sacrifice

I was born one of seven children, the second oldest child, in the 1940s to William and Dorothy Mae Smallwood. William was a long-haul truck driver and Dorothy was a homemaker. From the age of three I can remember my father beating and abusing mother in from of me and my siblings.

Somewhere between the years of 1958 and 1959, William came home from a road trip, it was summer. We all knew how to stay out of his way if he looked like he was angry. Our big sister Mary told us all to sit down on the sofa and chairs in the living room, for she knew what kind of mood he was in when he entered the front door. He walked into the house with one of those angry looks. He walked right past all of us to the kitchen where mother was. She had cooked spaghetti for dinner and all of us had already eaten. She asked William if he wanted to eat and he said nothing and went to sit down at the dining table. Mom took a plate of spaghetti to him, He sat there and looked at it for a few minutes. The house was quiet. He started arguing, stood up and picked up the plate and threw it through the China cabinet that held all of the dishes that were special to mom.

He started hitting her, she ran away from him towards the stairs to the second floor. She made it half way up the stairs to the second floor and he caught her and shoved her down the stairs. He followed her down the stairs and picked up a bike that was close by, it was Mary's bike. William threw the bike on her and started kicking her, she was crying and begging him to stop. She soon stopped moving. Blood was everywhere. We were all crying by now and a lot. I felt inside that I needed to help her.

My siblings and I thought she was dead. I got up from the sofa, picked up a lamp and hit William over the head while he was leaning over mom and still swearing at her. I took off running across the street to get help and a friend of mom’s summoned help. Mom’s friend called the police and William's mom, our grandmother to tell her what was going on. Soon two white police officers knocked on the door. William opened it and he was asked if there were any problems by one of the officers. William told them there was no problem and he slammed the door. The two officers left. A few minutes later two of our uncles, Williams brothers, showed up. Grand mom must have called them and told them to come. They threw my dad, William out of the house after much confrontation from him. I guess his two brothers together was a little too much for him to challenge.

There is so much more to my story, it is too long for this contest. However, at the age of 19, I was widowed with four children and I thought so many times, that I could not make it. But then I would remember how my mother endured eleven and a half years of being abused by our father because she felt she had nowhere to run to with seven children. She was a high school drop out with no driver's license.

I had no excuse for not trying to hold on to my children because I was dealt a different hand. It took me years to get on my feet, but I did. I met and married a US Air Force airman who became my four children's step Father and we are still together today after 48 years. He encouraged me to join the armed services as well and I did thirty years in the US Army Nurse Corp. My mom taught me that I could endure anything and survive. Mothers are stronger than they think and I made sure that my daughters knew that.

Sandra L. kearse-Stockton

USA, Maryland