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Lee's Story

I was born in California in 1945. From the information that I have received, I am supposed to have at least two sisters, one I grew up with and one that I have never known.

My youngest memories are of the foster parents that I lived with. I don't really know how long I lived with Roy and Ruth Sampson but they had 4 children 3 boys and a girl. They were all older than I as is my adopted sister. I can remember jumping on a trampoline, bouncing off and knocking the wind out of myself. Funny how that's the only memory I have of that house.

I was adopted in 1948 or 1949 by the perfect couple who were both raised in the state of Iowa one on a farm and one the daughter of a Baptist preacher. My adopted dad worked in the areo space industry as a mechanic and my adopted mother was and English teacher. They had bought a small home in the then town of Canoga Park, California. It is now called West Hills California right at the edge of the mountians. I can remember we had a dog named Cinder, a cocker spaniel, and a cat named Blondie. I can remember the fire place and the front yard. I still have pictures of my sister Shirley, who was adopted with me, and me. My father had a small shop in his garage and when he was home was usually in it working on cars. My mother spent most of her time with us. I know that she loved us. She would hold us and play with us for hours from card games and other games to just reading us stories. I still can remember those stories so well. and I have read those same stories to my two daughters many time over and over. I can remember sitting on her lap with Shirley gee those were good memories.

I was definitely an outside boy though I would climb the rocks, play in the trees in our yard, and play with the dog. I can remember taking trips to Iowa for my dads vacation and be paraded around for my relatives. I also remember my Dad having to fix our old car and how he always seemed to have the right part with him. All seams so great but then I remember starting school and that's were the hurt begins.

From then on all I can remember of my dad is the spankings I was getting. It started with slaps and progressed to a razor strap. I still think the words I hate the most are this is going to hurt me worse than it will you. I was not the best kid in the world but I wasn't that bad. If I was 5 minutes late getting home from playing it was to the shop for my wiping if my chore wasn't perfect it was to the garage for my beating. By the age of nine things started to change but not for the better. That's when He started to make me take my pants down for the belt, that's when I stopped crying, and the touching and making me touch places that I didn't need to touch began. He started showing me books of naked woman started. He would always say, "If you tell anyone you will be sorry." I believed him. From then on I did my best to stay away from him. By the age of eleven, I had ran away from home three times.

Yes they were the perfect couple both were active members of the local church went several time a week. My dad kept the Skating rink going on Saturday nights and was a deacon for as long as he was alive. I really can't tell what Shirley went through but I did ask her in 1991 the last time I saw her if she had ever been molested and the answer was yes so I can't help but believe that she went through the same except for the beatings.

Click on the numbers to read more parts of this story. Part 2, Part 3.

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