I do not recall and did not note whether the folks came up on August 25 or 26 and got me or I took the bus down. Suffice that I went and was present and 'on duty' for the duration. I found what it was like to be actually homeless and how grim and ugly life can be when there are few to no friends and many--maybe well deserved but still almost implacable--enemies standing against you. Even when compared to many bad times in the revious couple of years, September and October 1967 were among the hardest times I ever experienced. Nobody died, not even the animals that were still a big concern of mine anyway. And I did make it back to Flagstaff in the nick of time to register and go on with my schooling. I thank my Divinity--The Source as I now term them--and my guardian angel for that. It was a close thing.
The one entry, made that Friday evening:
Aug 25, 1967
I'm pretty thoroughly po'ed about everything. I was really dumb not to take off for California while it was easy. But if things don't turn up PDQ I will still do it. I haven't heard from JJM; I think he is a little unreliable but perhaps he had to return to Tucson. I may call him in a day or two just to investigate. Of course I could take off without his help but I'd kind of like to have somebody see me off. I'm really proud of myself for not coming absolutely unscrewed. I've kept my temper beautifully, really. But actually it does not reach me. I'm outside of it all and just not afraid. Most of my stuff is absolutely safe, my scholarship is all in order for fall etc. If "they" (** note) tried to get that screwed up, I could really turn the tables so I am not too worried about it now. All I have to do is keep my cool for three weeks--or maybe less.
**The 'They" above may have referred to either my parents and those 'enemies', even very possibly both. I almost recall that dad basically threatened without him to support me and fight, those "enemies" could revoke my scholarship or bring some kind of charges that would prevent me from going to college at all. That was total bullshit and I knew it but still the old emotional blackmail and abuse had impact.
Of course when I wrote that passage, I knew precisely what I was upset about and why, not that I would not recall the gory details some 58 years later. I am sure the folks had either written or called and laid a very heavy trip on me like I had better come down right away and that my future was at risk and all could be snatched away without warning by those evil enemies that were hounding them to the brink of disaster. I was urgently going to need their help. (Ha ha--what help could they provide??) I expect they did have an eviction notice now and not sure what other threats or actions they faced. It was definitely ugly, nasty, very bad. I was still mad they had let matters get to that point while they kept thinking. pretendng or trusting they could wave some magic wand and win. That was total insanity but who could tell them anything at that point, especially Dad? He was bonafide off his rocker. So I believe I did take the bus down Saturday morning or even that evening. That's all she wrote, you might say. There were no more written words until September 17 when I was back at NAU, breathng a huge sigh of relief that I had gotten there. The dreaded drama was not over but I was partly free of it again. and only had to ago back weekends to try to fix things where it was necessary. I was still imprisoned by that damned Eldest Daughter geas. (That is an ancient word for a spell or magical control but fits perfectly.) So much seemed to be resting on me and I had to make things happen when no one else would or could.. It was duty, it was somehow demanded and necessary.
This final crash and burn had been building, perking and developing for so very long. I had seen it coming although not understood how and when it would hit. I had actually known since probably even before I graduated from high school. It was all so incredible, impossible and the whole enterprise a drug-type bad trip dream. All those loans and 'ranch hunts' and endless whines to the relatives for just one more "help" that would make The Big Difference. Yes, I am still bitter. Charlie Mike and I both are. I never got quite into discussing it much with Alex before his death but he harbored a mass of anger, sorrow, and perhaps a little guilt although this went down when he was just eight years old. I am sure it marked him for life. How could parents, especially a father, actually do this to his family, his children? Someday on the other side I will sit him down and tell him in detail exactly what damage he did and ask him WHY. He owes me--all of us--that. He has been gone for well over 30 years now. Long enough I hope to see and regret and vow never to repeat those mistakes again. If we truly are here to learn and grow---well, please, may that be so.
Picture: I just searched and found a royalty free image that fits. I did not look like that but I certainly felt that way! I wanted to cuss and kick and throw a toddler level tantrum! But I knew that was useless. I slid mostly into a zombie autopilot mode instead and recall very little detail as a result.
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