Thankfully Chewed Up and Spat Back Out!

It was just over three years ago I took a ride through a campground in this county in an effort to discover our hidden population - the homeless. The motivating factor for that ride was for an article to create an awareness - Just weeks before that ride I became rudely aware on just how few resources our county had for someone experiencing homelessness and my awakening came after a friend phoned me needing resources for a relative of her - we could find none.  The domino effect began -  I will never forget the emotion that swelled up within me during that drive through the campground.   I knew that I would find what I was searching for but when I did nothing had prepared me for what my eyes saw, and my heart felt.  Battered and weathered campers used as home base - tents with couches sitting outside by the fire pits - items stored in boxes and bins - obvious signs that the people staying there were not there for a week trip but rather an undetermined time until something better

There is one thing about my job as a reporter - I hear a lot and I see a lot. Sometimes it brings me joy - sometimes I learn about new subjects - and then sometimes the topic hits close to home .There is no way to get around that - Recently I've been reminded what it is like to be a victim - that woman who has called 911 out of fear there would be no more tomorrows and then once they arrive, worry about the man I loved. I know what it is like to be in that position - and now I also know what it is like to work with victims and feel so frustrated that they cannot appreciate their own worth as a human who deserves to live without fear. I tell people the first time I ever had to call 911 because of domestic violence  was in 2006 - and that is the truth. But, there's another truth - the first time the police ever responded to a call involving my ex husband and I was just after we were engaged. Yes, I should have known then but like what so many others think....I thought it

If I had my way Tomorrow would be a new day I would follow my heart Giving homage to life's art No more profit from sorrow No robbing Peter to Paul I borrow If I had my way Tomorrow would filled with play No more worries of the past Rather creating memories I want to last The joy within me, I know is there It would come out to take part in life's fair If I had my way Tomorrow I would fly away Off to explore a new land Feeling between my toes the warm sand My weariness would be gone Rested, I could write a beautiful new song If I had my way Tomorrow I would dance and sway Security's beat would be my tune Free I would be of this needed cocoon Soaring high my spirit would be Living the life I have dreamed of for me If I had my way People would know I am made of clay The rock that many say I am Is a shield that protects an emotional dam A surge of waves I hold back Because it's not time, I have to remain

I am, so far, one of the lucky ones. I do not live in fear. The choices I make today are not formed from a mind swirling in chaos weighing the thoughts of "do I stay because I need to feed my children?" or "do I leave and flee into poverty to save my life?" While today I may be one of the lucky ones, six years ago I felt as if I was anything but that. I am not sure why I am one of the lucky ones - but I do know I am one of the few. I left with my life intact - it came close to me never breathing again - I am a lucky one. Zina Haughton , unfortunately, cannot say this. The threats her husband, her abuser, made against her life were carried out.  On the day she was murdered by her husband, two other women standing by her lost their lives - Seven in total had their lives changed. The headlines this week across the nation speak to the domestic violence - the murder suicide - that occurred last weekend in a spa near Milwaukee. Thousands of women read the storie

Warning - I am about to go on a rant - Yesterday Wisconsin made national news and once again it's because of a white 40 something male  who believes he has all the answers - see the following video of Jennifer Livingston responding to a critique from a troll viewer of the morning news show on WKBT out of LaCrosse, WI.....and even though the viewer states he rarely watches, I consider him the definition of a troll as it appears he wants nothing but attention - I give this woman a lot of credit for facing the criticism and on camera to a society that is now pointing fingers at it's overweight segment. As she stated ---this man knows nothing about her other than what he "sees" on his television screen - It's important to keep that in mind as I go off on this rant - Today..actually a few minutes ago, I read on Jezebel that Mr. Troll responded yet once again - They stated he released another statement - he being Kenneth Krause a personal injury att

That's me sitting in my grandfather's lap - grandma to the right and my siblings standing in the back row  This afternoon I sat at my kitchen table snapping fresh green beans memories of my grandmother flooded my mind - Before I knew it I was telling my children, my two boys, the memories I had of my youth...a replay of events that once happened thirty-five plus years ago...however...then it was my sweet little German grandmother telling me about her childhood growing up in a land once known as Prussia. As I recounted those days to my children I also, by happenstance, explained to them something so simple yet so many today take for granted - how to cook - what to look for in that bean they were snapping, how we were going to prepare them for a fresh green bean salad to go with our dinner tonight - and then how lucky we were a friend gave us those beans enabling us to be able to eat a healthy fresh meal for a very low - next to nothing - impact on our budget. It was s

Today is a significant day in my life. Today is five years to the day...date and day of the week...that my life changed forever - Five years ago today, August 13, 2007, my estranged husband - the man I was married to and with my entire adult life, decided for the last time to exert physical and emotional abuse against me and chose to do by sexually and physically assaulting me in front of my children. It is a day that for the past five years has played over and over in mind. Every minute  - every second of it. I can still recall the morning I had that day...the way I rushed around to get some work done to the minute he walked into the house...my room...and the dread I felt in the pit of my stomach that something really bad was about to happen. From that point my children and their safety became my priority - we needed to get out and through it all...alive. My life ...I....changed. Looking back over the last five years can at times feel numbing. Combating rumors while people

It was three years ago today a little girl from Monroe,  Michigan  flashed across news screens as missing. A beautiful little girl who would be discovered to have met a tragic end to her little innocent life. Her name, Nevaeh Buchanan. Since the day the story hit the news I have not been able to get this little girl out of my mind's eye. So much so her memory has compelled me to write on this blog once again and after a five month hiatus from blogging. I'm not sure why I became so drawn to little Nevaeh but there was something in her pictures...her eyes so innocent...that drew me to her story. I can remember being outraged when just days after she came up missing her story dropped off the news. I would search the net for updates all the while hoping I would run across an article saying she was found alive. I never found that article, but what I did find was a network of fellow survivors of childhood sexual assault also searching for that update and article....also writi

Yesterday evening my sons and I watched the 1993 movie  In the Name of the Father  . It was my youngest son's suggestion. He and I had watched the movie just a few weeks ago - something in it caught his attention and he wanted to watch it again. If you have not seen the movie, I highly recommend it. It is more than just a true life story, it is one we all should remember and learn a lesson from. The movie begins in 1974 Belfast and is the story of Gerry Conlon, his friends and family, and how an over zealous government detained them, relentlessly  interrogated them to the point of mental torture which caused their spirits to break and confess to a crime they did not commit. The crime they confessed to was for a bombing of an English pup where 5 people lost their lives. A crime that was actually committed by the  Provisional Irish Republican Army    (IRA) and who also took credit for it. It all happened during a  time when tensions between the Catholics of Northern Ireland a