That Sense of Dread…


A 20 (or so) year old me, he a year and half older.  Neither of us look terribly happy.  I know that I was not.

“Je Maintiendra”
The racist, entitled, pig who was never a police officer-but was very violent in terms of what he thought he could get away with.

I have been dealing with a horrible sense of dread this past week or so.  I kept looking at the calendar wondering if it was an “anniversary” time.  It took me until yesterday to realize.  My father died 37 years ago yesterday.  

Yes he was mean.  Sadistic is at least part of the description.  But, he could also be nice, loving, cuddly, and playful (without it hurting even!).  Obviously I loved him, or I would not have a hard time around his death date.  But, I was also scared shitless of him too.

After the funeral, either that evening or the next, myself and my step mother  and uncles got together to decide who got what.  Even things that my step mother said my dad wanted us kids to have an uncle would speak up and say, “No, Alvin said I could have ….(whatever it was)”.  To say that I felt stolen from between all of them was to say the least.  I was all of 21 years old, pregnant and trying very hard to not let the situation affect my baby.  Emotionally I was low key… I was doing all I could do to NOT feel a thing.  I did not want all that negativity to hurt my baby in anyway.   To say that my uncles hurt my feelings was an understatement.  I have kept that a secret until now.  The world knows now, but my sister has no clue because she would not be sympathtic in the least.   She thinks I go through all this shit with no feeling at all.  

During this trip to Oregon to attend the funeral,  I had flown in from Ohio where I lived at the time.  While in Oregon my uncle Bobo (Alfred Lee) verified a memory for me about an older 1/2 sister that I have.  He gave me a name even.  Well, the maiden name of the mother.  So, from that point on, I knew that the “memory” I had of mom and dad fighting over wether dad would go and see this child was real.   Mom wasn’t going to have any part of it.  She did not want him to be responsible for child support in any form.  I was a little girl and I got that much out of the fight.  So, dad snuck and uncle Bobo went with him.  They parked on the street and watched the little girl play.  According to my uncle the top part of her face looks like me, and the lower part looks like my sister.  She was the product of the union of my father and his high school sweetheart (or so I was told).   I’m still looking for her. 

I flew home… the plane made an emergency landing in Denver.  We were told by the pilot something was wrong with the plane and it was being checked over.  We were not removed from the plane.  We were never told what was wrong.  But, eventually we took back off and I got into Covington, Kentucky where the Cincinnatti Airport actually lives.   I was emotionally exhausted.  My (then) husband wanted sex as soon as I got home.  I was four months pregnant– emotionally exhuasted and just had no interest in the least.  As was normal for him, he would not take “No” for an answer.  I even told him I was really tired and did not feel well because I was so tired.  He still insisted….  So, 37 years ago today or tomorrow, I was forced into unwanted sex (again).  

This is a really heavy time of year…. because in one month and 5 days it will be the 26 years since I left that husband.   That was 1994.   In the weeks leading up to this situation many, many things happened.  It was a flat out crazy, stupid time.  We both did stupid stuff.
From my side  of it, I was about as unhappy as anyone could be.  I wanted out in a big, big way.

Rewind back to 1980.  We were newlyweds.  He had already informed me that I was to come home from my job and get undressed and wait in bed for him to get home.  I’d already been called his “empty headed play thing” more than once.  I had already been demeaned and had items put up inside me that hurt like hell.  At 18 & 19 years of age, I was no where ready to defend myself from some one like that.  He came home from work one night and told me that a newspaper (Cincinnati Enquirer) photographer thought that I was really sexy and wanted to take photos of me.  He wanted me to think about it.  My instant answer was, “No”.   Later after thought, I thought maybe I would.  But it had turned out that according to the ex, he’d told the guy no from the get go.  It was never a choice.  I doubt if it was even true.  

Another night he came home…. and brought up the idea of swapping mates with other couples.
I can look back now and realize he’d probably had some female catch his eye.  But, at the time I took him for his word.  It came up in conversation with an employee at… you guessed it the Enquirer.  He was a security guard there.   I had NO idea people even did these sort of things.  The whole idea came as a shock to me.  Again, my instant answer was “NO”.

But, I never forgot that question.  Would I?  Could I?  Is that even a real thing?  Life went on and the idea just cooked in there somewhere.  Fast forward to 1994.   The idea came back to the surface.  I had filed for divorce but we were still living together and trying to work things out.  Call it a crazy time.  Regardless of us “trying” to stay together, I was as I said earlier, really, really unhappy.  He was preparing to move back to Ohio with two kids and me.  I had made up my mind that I was NOT going back to that hell hole.  I was staying in California.

I guess in someways I had already begun separating from him.  In many ways– I knew by now that he was abusive, selfish, and in terms of sexual behaviors at least partly deviant.  I was looking  around at all the fish in the sea.  Now, I brought up trading mates.  I could add excitement to the relationship.  It could broaden our horizons.  I could sow the wild oats I had never sown.   There were all kinds of pluses if it were handled right.  I never saw any bad side to it.  I am one of those people who when I am feeling “normal” always sees the glass as half full.

He liked that idea.  I guess he started searching for a couple right away, or had one in mind.  Not sure about that.  Either way within a few days he came to me and asked me what I thought about a certain couple who lived around the corner.   The man absolutely gave me the creeps.  She was ok I had no issue with her.  But, I wanted nothing to do with him.  I told my ex this.

As it turns out the couple had the same breed as one of the birds I owned.  I asked him if they wanted mine.  I was off loading my precious birds in preparation for moving to Ohio even though I had absolutely no intent on going.  I was so confused.  The man happily (so far as I could tell) took the bird, a Senegal Parrot.  Days later the man calls me.  Tells me that the birds have laid an egg, and asked me if I wanted to come and see it.  I said sure.  

I grabbed my little boy by the hand and we walked around the corner.  I don’t even remember seeing an egg.  He opened the back sliding screen door and offered my son the option to go out and play.  My son, all of four years old, took the man up on the offer…   Out he went.  

It made me uncomfortable.  I became more uncomfortable when I realized the wife was no where to be seen.  I was ready to leave because I did not like my son being out in the  yard, basically not being monitored.   So, I made a move toward the backyard and was in the process of saying, “thank you, and good-bye”…

The man cornered me and told me that my husband had come to him to talk about swapping mates.  I put myself on one side of their dining room table while he stood where he was and informed me that my husband would never have his wife, but he sure was going to have me.  

I tried my damdest to run, but I had a child to scoop up, and I had to do it in a calm manner so as to not upset my child.  There was too much disadvantage, I lost the fight.  I was forced.  I can look back now…. and realized that I could have bit the hell out of him.  But, I have to say that my experience up to that point probably would have led me to not follow through anyhow… I had a tendency to get hit when I stuck up for myself with the ex.  

When the man finished he let me go and went  out of my sight.  I practically fell into his kitchen
sink trying not to vomit.  Trying to pull myself together so I could grab my son.  I did do that the best I could.  We made a beeline for home.  When the husband got home I told him what happened.  The big tough man who was supposed to love me didn’t even seem like he was sorry.  There were no punishments for the man.  Not even a suggestion to call the police. 

So, 26 years ago, any day now… I was raped again.  As I say, this is rough time of year…
It is no wonder there is a sense of dread…  in my way I’d rather not remember these things or deal with the emotions that still live on inside all these years later.  


For what it’s worth, these stories, images, and anything else on this website, unless otherwise stated belongs to myself, and I reserve all rights.  © Peggy A Rowe Snyder.  Known once upon a time as Peggy A Miller /Misty Skyes

Note: To my X-husband, who still owes me 30K due to running from child support obligations.  I know exactly where you are, Dragunov.   I know about your business of removing “dangerous animals”.  I know you are “retired”.  That you claim your step children and their children as your own all the while ignoring your own.  You are really some piece of work.    Watch out!  Might want to check in with the Chamber of Commerce.   BTW, kinda funny that you are still lying after all these years just like that 16 year old boy did.  You’ve never volunteered at a Serpatarium, who the hell you trying to fool???  “Have you got to be right or something?”  You don’t have a college degree in anything related to your hobby — removing snakes for people.  Whatever…  You are still a worthless looser.  Wait until your present wife figures out what a big liar you are!!!  P.S. I know you read this blog sometimes.  It is the only way you could have found that number to call years ago….

That was never a true marriage.  It never had a chance.  I would not have mattered how hard
I worked at it, it was always one sided.  You were out for yourself.  That kind of attitude and behavior does not work when a person tries to couple up with another.  Think about that one!


About PeggyAnn

Professional PC Consultant, Researcher, & avid people watcher, Peggy Ann Rowe started into her genealogical quest at age 15 after watching the mini-series, "Roots" with her parents. This new obsession has fueled her love of history, & study of cultures & societies in every epoch. Today she is 57 years old with four kids who are all grown up (& all have flown the coop). In between her 'gigs' with clients she volunteered at many different non-profits. Former President, Secretary, and Director at Large on the board of the Douglas County Historical Society for 10+ years, and former Secretary at the Cloverdale Historical Society (Sonoma County) for nearly 10 years. This website is an attempt to share the knowledge she has gained about her family ties with others who may be interested in the same things. She does not guarantee 100% accuracy and does hope that you will send corrections. To learn more about her, click the "about" button in the page menu. Thanks! Another goal of this website is to disseminate a message (i.e. education) about domestic violence, child abuse, and all forms of sexual abuse to society at large. The message comes from real experience from the whole spectrum of the violence from sexual abuse by a perpetrator to sexual abuse perpetrated by a husband, to the abuse of children within the family. Peggy has seen it, lived it, and been hurt by it. There will on occasion be details that might be hard for some people to read, and a warning is usually posted at the beginning of the essay so that those who want to turn and not read may do so. The only way to teach and to let others learn what to avoid is to SHARE what happened with every detail necessary to make the point. Thank you.
This entry was posted in Children's Rights, Memories, Personal, Rape, Rights, Sexual Assault, Uncategorized, Women's Rights and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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