An arrest is made

It was February the 12th. My dad was secretly on his way to North Carolina. We had already made arrangements with the sherrif to arrest my husband before he would get home from work and find out I was gone. I can't begin to express the fear I had about what I was doing. What if he caught me before I made it out of town with Lisa. I packed the few clothes that Lisa and I owned, gathered together what milk and bottles I had and the only other thing I would be taking with me would be her crib. Everything else would be left. Just before noon I saw my dad pull up in the driveway. I was so happy to see him. I always thought of my dad as my knight in shining armor and here he was coming to save us. We quickly loaded the car and as we backed out of the driveway, with tears pouring down my face like waterfalls I wondered if I would really be able to live without him. With my heart breaking in two we hit the highway headed back to Virginia. Dad had sold his home and was back living with his dad again close to the beach until he found another home to buy. Now there would be four of us there. Not only four people but four generations of people. Living in a immediate FAMILY of four is one thing. Living in a home with four generations of people is an entirely different thing. Lisa was almost seven months old and I would be seventeen in a few days. My dad was forty-one and his dad was fifty-eight. Whew! This was going to be fun. The four of us together. My grandfather had never even seen Lisa and had not been around children for years. Dad had seen her twice but he was single and living the lifestyle of a man having a serious mid-life crisis. I was a new mother and I had been in what most would consider solitary confinement for almost 2 years. I knew no one there except my grandfather and my dad. I still had no car, no money and I was absolutely terrified of living one day without the man of my dreams. I know what you're thinking. I must be crazy huh? How could I love someone who had tried to kill me. I can't even begin to answer that question. When children love something or someone they do it so unconditionally. They never expect love to hurt them or desert them. You could ask yourself the same question about why children love their parents who physically and mentally abuse them. Children live what they learn. And if the adult in their life says "it is so" then the child will come to believe "it is so." Be careful what you teach them. Belief systems in people are very difficult to change when they get older. The days seemed to creep by. I wondered everyday about what he was thinking and what was going to happen. Then one day the phone rang. It was the sheriff from back home. He had called to tell us a court date had been set for two weeks from now and we "I" would have to be there. He also promised to assure we got to court safely and made it back to my grandfathers' house safely. I wasn't even worried about that. My big concern was if I was going to buckle when I saw him again. Was I going to let my heart rule my head, drop all charges and go back to the man I was so desperately in love with.





As dad and I drove from Virginia to North Carolina on that dreary day and my anxiety level was through the roof. I think that was the first time in my life I experienced a true "panic attack". The closer we got the harder it was for me to breath. It felt as if the life was being sucked right out of me. "I'll never survive this day" I thought to myself. This day was going to be worse than the day I was shot. We arrived at the courthouse early so we would have plenty of time to talk to the sheriff. Dad wanted to have an idea of what to expect in hopes of reassuring me. We entered the courtroom and found a seat. Time passed by so slowly. Then a deputy walked in from the front of the courtroom and said "all rise, court is now in session". "Oh my God" I thought. "This is really happening isn't it?" Then another door opened and there he was. A sheriff escorted him to where he would be seated. The judge called him by name and announced the charges against him. "You have been charged with premeditated assault with a deadly weapon with intent to kill, How do you plead?" There was a dead silence in the room when he said "guilty your honor". Oh NO! He didn't just say that did he? Guilty? What was he doing pleading guilty. He told me it was an accident. What in the world would have made him plead guilty. Now I really was confused. Why would someone plead guilty for something they did not do. This really made no sense to me. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to ask him "why did you say that?" Why did you admit planning to shoot me when you have been telling me for almost six months it was an accident? I don't get it. You could go to jail for a long time for admitting that. I needed to talk to him. When I agreed to press charges I thought for sure he would deny it and it would all be over. I would have done what my parents had wanted me to do and not hurt him in the process. I never meant for this to happen. I would never hurt him on purpose no matter how bad he had hurt me. I loved him. Oh well, too late now. Now all I can do is sit here and wait to see what the judge says.



The silence in the courtroom seemed to last forever- and then he spoke. He read off the list of bills from the hospitals and told him he would be responsible for paying them off. He was required to send each collector $25.00 an month. He was also required to give me $50.00 a month for Lisa. After going over all the debts he told him he was sentencing him to 5 years in prison suspended for 2 years of probation. He would have to report to a probation officer weekly which would require him to continue living in the immediate area. Now this is how the mind of a seventeen year old thinks. If you were guilty of intentionally shooting me, why did you do that to me? Didn't you love me? What about Lisa? Didn't you at least love her? Did you really want me to die and if so why? Wasn't I a good wife to you? And then at the very same time I was thinking "if you didn't intend to shoot me why would you plead guilty? In the past six months you have told me a million times that it was an accident. WAS IT AN ACCIDENT OR NOT!!!!!!!!!!! I could not have been more dazed and confused if you had placed me on a merry-go-round and left me there for a week. It has been 35 years since that dreadful day and there are still two questions in my mind that have never been answered. Was it an accident? And why did you do that? Don't think I haven't asked these questions a million times and to a thousand different people because I have. And of all the people I have asked the only ANSWER I ever get is "there are some things in life that you will never know WHY they happened!!"

Being in a courtroom, in front of a judge and having him make life altering decisions for you at age seventeen is NOT s place you want to be. Some lessons are better left unlearned.