Mom had me in New Mexico with dad present.
Dad was abusing me. I was told that he would give me beer in my bottle when I was only months old.
From there, my grandmother and her husband took my mom and me in. I think I was three months old.
Most everything else after this is jumbled.
My mother was an incredible woman. She had such passion for me. She would become hysterical if anyone stood between her and I. Soon after the state of California would step in destroying our family.
My mother was terribly loving and affectionate woman. We were equals in life. We would try together to make things work.
For my mom, her entire life had always been a struggle. Everywhere she turned there was some incredible feat to be overcome… at times she would fail. We’re all human, I think it’s our passion by which we’re judged.

-I bounced around from foster home to foster home. 14 placements in all and then I made my final stop with the Lucas family. My first night there, I was asked by the father of the family, Bob, to call him Dad. I had never had a father figure in my entire life so I didnât link the word ãdadä with anything. And so his name was Dad from then on.

-At first the family was not so religious as much as they were ãworldlyä. I had been living there with them for about 3 months when we moved down the block. It was then that Sara Lucas went to Hawaii for a week or two. The night she left I remember being excited because the authoritive figure of the house was gone. Bob and Sara never got along as long as Iâve known them but they operated well together. Sara would normally sleep in her bedroom, and Bob would sleep on the couch.

I asked Bob if I could sleep in Saraâs room. I enjoyed music even then but I was still developing my musical taste.
When Sara was home it was never possible to listen to music when we went to bed, but this night was different.
I wouldnât have to worry about having her storm into the room to hear the click of our tape players turning off.
I was listening to music when I fell asleep. I woke up a little later to find Bob sitting next to me. I must not have been sleeping long because my tape was still playing. I couldnât hear anything. I felt Bobs hand fumble around my pajamas. I remember how his touch disgusted me. I always hated the way this man smelled like cheap cigars. How his hands were calloused from working with the animals in the back yard. It wasnât that I hated his character so much. I hardly knew him and yet I found my self calling him Dad. His hands wandered lower and finally under my underwear. I was unable to move or scream. I tried to roll over but I was totally unable to. I remember being so fucking angry with myself. I started to cry soon after. My memory gets fuzzy from there.

-During the time Sara was gone to Hawaii, another family that were friends with the Lucasâs went on their vacation. It was Bobs job to watch their house while they were away and I was the one to go with him. I remember being terrified. I remember asking one of the foster kids that was also placed with this family to go with me. I remember how Bob reminded the foster child how he had chores to do. Jumping ahead· We arrive at the house we were to check on. Bob tried to take off my shirt and I ran from him. I donât remember his exact words but he said something along the lines of ãNever run from meä. It was this time, in the beginning of all the abuse, where Bob would use intimidation and violence to control me. Months later he would change his strategy to get me to submit. He would use guilt to manipulate me. I ran into the bathroom and tried to find the lock to the door but there was none. Bob opened the door and I was trapped. He told me to take off all my clothes. I remember taking off my shirt and pants. From there everything gets blurry.

-This kind of thing went on for a few months. I remember how he would always ask me ãChristopher, do you want me to do this or not?ä Every time I would answer wrongly there was some sort of consequence. The first few instances where I answered wrongly I was literally thrown across the room. I remember being hit so hard all I saw before impact was a sharp flash of light and for a few seconds I would be out cold.

-The last time it happened I made sure to say the right answer. I remember Bob asking me to come to him in the living room at night when everyone was asleep. Needless to say, I would have to see him at least once a day for years on end. 9 years to be exact. I remember sometimes he would skip days and right when I would get my hopes up, he would approach me and ask ãWhy didnât you visit me last night?ä or he would come into my room while I was sleeping. I became insomniac quickly.

-My grandparents would try to call me often while I lived with the Lucas family and visit me also. But they felt that they were unwanted. I would have to suffer consequences after their visit with me. Loads of guilt would shower. Iâve never felt so alone than I did when my true family was gone. One day my grandmother called me. I was never allowed to answer the phone at the Lucas family. Even after I turned 17. I was told that there was a call for me. Bob, and on occasion Sara, would listen in on my calls. It was commonplace. Before I greeted the phone, Bob pulled me aside and told me word for word what to say· I was told to tell my family that I wanted nothing to do with them. That I had my true family now. And I did as I was told.

-I remember on one of my birthdays I got the idea in my head to run away and find my Mom again. Just to have her in my life again would be so comforting. I entertained dreams of lingering in my Moms arms for hours. I considered running away and finding her again seriously for years. I had only a few concerns; one of them was ãHow was I to get away from Bob? And make sure that he will never see me again?ä and ãWhat do I do if my Mother is angry with me because I left her?ä

-Jumping ahead Bob worked at a probation group home for sex offenders. Bob was in charge of all the staff that worked for the home, ironically. From there he would dedicate time to the Church. The Lucas family was very good friends with most of the other families in the church. The pastorâs family being one of them. It was through the pastor who gave Bob the job of Sunday school teacher for the Jr. High Children. From there I was sent to a private religious school where later Bob would become the Principal.

-I remember being told ãWhatâs the big problem here. Iâve touched John and Terry and they are just fine! My father touched me and Iâm totally fine. Itâs how we show love.ä Bob hated certain words to use. Like Molestation or Sexual Abuse.  They would be referred to as Touch or Love. Because everyday at work he would read the files of the Teens at the probation group home he would supervise and notice all the similarities in his own life. In those reports he would read all the hated words.

-There are other instances when Bob abused me that stick out. In July I filed a police report against Bob. I was asked where I was abused. As in the location of the house. I never thought of the concept of a ãsexual playgroundä before. I told the detective that most of the events happened in the house. In every room. At the top of the hill at the edge of the property. Down the street at the church. Behind the baptismal. Virtually every road in Ramon because some times Bob would like to touch me while driving. A few instances while he was at work. I donât know what it is but I have a lot of hesitation to speak about exactly what happened between Bob and me. Fondling, masturbation, oral copulation, sodomy were all a part of my daily life as a kid and young man.

-The summers in Ramona can be very hot. It was one of those stagnant hot days of August 1998 when I was called out to the back porch where I met with Sara, Bob, and their biological children. Jeana who must have been 24 years old at the time, Terry who was around 30something and John who might have been 23 years old. They were all sitting down on the porch chairs and I was standing next to a post. It was then that Bob told Jeana to tell me the news. My mother had been living in Rosoreto Mexico teaching as a school teacher next to one of the beaches there. She came back to the States to have surgery on an old skydiving injury. The Dr. prescribed her something for the pain. My Mom had taken Soma for a while and was addicted to it. Soma along with the prescription knocked her out. She fell asleep in her hotel room with her head hanging off the bed suffocating her to death. She was completely alone when she left. Her body laid there in the hotel room for 3 days before anyone found her. I felt everyoneâs eyes on me as Jeana told the story. I felt Bobs eyes on me waiting for me to show a shred of sadness or any emotion. I turned away and Jeana grabbed my arm to escort me in side. She turned to Bob and said ãSee he doesnât care about her.ä Everyone knew I couldnât show true emotion. Everyone must have known it was because of Bob.

– Iâve been on this road of recovery for what seems like a million years now. I try not to waste my life thinking about my regrets. I want my life to be fulfilling. Weâre all human, I think itâs our passion by which weâre judged


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