Short essays by Douglas Winslow Cooper, Ph.D., the author of TING AND I: A Memoir of Love, Courage and Devotion, published in September 2011 by Outskirts Press (Parker, CO, USA), available from outskirtspress.com/tingandi, Barnes and Noble [bn.com], and Amazon [amazon.com], in paperback or ebook formats. Please visit us at tingandi.com for more information.
Sunday, May 10, 2015
"Alan and I Ally" in KIDNAPPED TWICE
Over the years, Alan became a close friend. He would come to my house for dinner and go out with Bruce and myself for dinner also. When I would go up to the hunting camp to help them post the property and cook for everyone, Alan would be there. All of us would go out to a local place where people went to hear music and dance. Alan was always quiet and respectful to me; he never tried to hit on me, which made me respect and like Alan.
We had many conversations about many things. We became comfortable with each other and good friends. I was always sad for Alan, as he never had a girlfriend.
The following events changed all of our lives forever.
I was working at the Police Department and for the Town. During this time, I met a pretty girl, and we became friends. I decided to introduce her to Alan. They met and started dating. As time went by, I started to see things about her that were very upsetting. By the time I realized there was something really wrong, I did not know what to do.
Bruce and I spoke about this. He said it was too late to say anything, as Alan had asked the girl to marry him. And, as the story goes, they got married!
Shortly after that, the friendship I had with Alan’s wife weakened. She would only contact me when they were having problems, which I would not get involved in, so the friendship ended totally. Soon afterward, they had a baby girl.
Then my relationship with Bruce ended, and I did not see Alan for quite a long time.
My son had told me that Alan was having a bad time, because his wife had left him. As fate would have it, a few weeks later I saw Alan walking along into a local pizza restaurant. I stopped and went in to talk with him. That started a new chapter in my life.
Shortly after I ran into Alan, he and I would get together to talk. We would take rides on Sundays, go for walks, always talking about both of our lives and about what we thought about the future. His soon-to-be-divorced wife was making as much heartache as she could. Little-by-little, his daughter and I became friends.
We started by going to the park to feed the ducks there. Her mother thought that the more time she sent the daughter to be with Alan, the more I would not want the daughter around. The daughter and I became very close. As more time went by, though, I started to realize that there were a lot of problems with the daughter.
When Sundays would arrive and she would have to go back with her mother, there would be terrible upset. Crying and screaming that she did not want to go back, she would tell me about beatings and other awful things going on. I told Alan, but he was not listening. The mother had already broken two answering machines with her long, ugly messages.
It all came to a head the day my lawyer called me to set up an appointment to write my will.
The daughter was sitting at my kitchen table and started crying hysterically. I hung up with my lawyer and asked the daughter what was wrong. She told me that her mother had made her write her will because if she ever told anyone what her mother was doing to her, her mother would kill her.
During that summer of 1988, I pretty much took care of Alan’s daughter. I knew her mother well enough to know that she was thinking that I would not want to spend a summer taking care of a seven-year-old. She was wrong. Being a person who had been abused, I could spot a troubled child.
I had the seven-year-old enjoy each day she was with me. As time went on, she began to tell me some horrendous things. When I would tell her father, he really did not believe me. So I began to record conversations with the daughter when she would discuss her treatment by her mother.
As fall came and school started, on most days the seven-year-old would get off the bus at the farm. I had quit my other job and started working at the farm, so that I could be there for this little girl. I still had my apartment, but I also set up the guest bedroom in her father’s house so that I could sleep there when the daughter was there.
Things were getting worse. Her father and I would have a terrible time on Sunday evening to get the daughter into the car to take her back to her mother. It all blew up in February of 1989, when we had brought the seven-year-old an unfinished toy box that we all could work on to finish. The mother did not think that anyone had the right to buy anything for her seven-year-old unless it went through the mother.
Thus began the mother’s keeping the seven-year-old from the father. This went on for a couple of months. The court ordered her to let Alan see his daughter on weekends and Wednesdays after school. During one of these Wednesdays, she got off the bus at the farm, and I saw what turned out to be a third-degree burn on her neck. It was a cigarette burn. That was it! Child Protective Services gave temporary custody to the father. Finally.
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We are serializing here the memoir KIDNAPPED TWICE: Then Betrayed and Abandoned, by Mary E. Seaman and myself and for which I served as coach and editor. It tells of her difficult recovery from a childhood of abuse. Outskirts Press published the book, and it can be obtained in paperback and ebook formats from OP and from amazon.com, and from other on-line booksellers.
My other site is http://writeyourbookwithme.com
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