Months went by, and at the time of the incident, my husband blamed himself for everything and said he knew he should have never gone back to the band and playing, that it was one of the biggest causes of his fall. That if he had not put himself out there for her to come at that night, she probably would have never even come to his mind that day. He vowed he would never play in the band again.
But, months later, with his son pushing him again, and him being away from God, he went back to it with a new band that he formed, his son now in the band. This began to create walls between us again, of course. There was tension in the house, his playing again and dragging his son into it again, and his son becoming more and more defiant and out of control all this time. One day we got in an argument and we were in the bedroom fighting. Suddenly my daughter threw open the door and began screaming for me to stop fighting with him, to not take his crap and just throw him out because he was a liar and a cheat, that Holly was not the first, and she blasted out that he had cheated also with his best friend and fellow band members daughter. A girl that I practically raised. And she also yelled that he got her pregnant and she now has a three-year-old son by him. He went into a rage and called her a liar. They were screaming at each other and I was just standing there stunned again. I finally took control and told him that God was listening to him and before God he needed to answer the question, was this true. He dropped down in a chair in the living room and slumped his head and nodded yes. He then told me that back before we moved, when I was working at the real estate company, he felt neglected. That one night he went to work driving the cab and she had called for a cab to the motel she was partying in. That she got in and then immediately began coming on to him. He said that he found himself pulled over on a back road and in the back seat with her before he even knew it. That it was just a one-time thing, and he was shocked at what he had done, knew immediately that he had just ruined his marriage. He said he never saw her again after that, but that one day her dad came to him and informed him that she had his child, was angry with him of course. He said he knew the child was not his, that she was sleeping with many people at the time, including the other guitarist in the band who was at this time dead from an overdose. That she was also married to a military guy and living with another guy while he was overseas, so what were the chances that this kid was his, that this part was a lie. But he was not as humble about what he had done this time. Once again I didn't know what to do, and everything in me just wanted out of the marriage to be honest. This was the limit for me. I had cried myself to sleep for years now wanting a child with my husband and unable to have one, that another woman had conceived his child in adultery was too much to bear. I was not dealing with this. But it did not take any time at all for God to grab ahold of me and He said clearly to me that I had to forgive him for this, that this had happened before the Holly affair and that He knew about it then but told me to put my rings on and forgive and heal my marriage. That when He told me that, He included this other indiscretion in that forgiveness, because He knew about it even when I did not. So His direction to me of then still held firm now, otherwise He would have directed me differently then. But this time I was angry. I responded to God that I would do as He directed, but if this child was my husband's, I would not stay with him, that was more than I could bear. That I would not seek the answer to that and would just wait for Him to reveal that Himself, but if it turned out to be his child, that I quit. I was very much kicking myself for taking the blame for the other. Here I was beating myself up and taking all the blame for his other affair when the whole time he knew that it was not the first time. The first time I had done nothing wrong, I was a good wife to him and there was no excuse for what he did except blatant cheating on his part. I did what God told me to do, but I cannot say I was happy about it. Things were different now for me.
We continued to grow apart in every way. I did not know him anymore, he was a stranger to me. He became so evil. You could not talk to him about God, it would send him into a rage. He would hole up day and night when home in the back studio, even sleeping there at night. He put a padlock on the door and would not let anyone in but his son. They holed up in there together, both of them growing more evil by the day. It was ice cold in this house and two enemy camps formed, me and mine against him and his. Him and his son would intentionally do things to my son to hurt his feelings. We were severely struggling financially, he totally stopped helping me pay the bills or doing anything a husband would normally do around the house. There were many days that my son and I had nothing to eat and they would flaunt in front of us that they were going out to eat. They were just intentionally evil. He got worse and worse. He became violent, even towards his son, often losing his temper and beating him. He would destroy things in rages. He began losing serious weight and his skin turned ashen, and he developed this horrible odor about him. I smelled just like decayed human flesh. It was sickly sweet and repulsive and showering did not help, it was always wafting around him. His friends began asking me in private what the smell was on him, and I had no answers. Many tried to convince me that he must be cooking meth in his studio room, the reason he had changed so much and was locking the room and holing himself up in there, but I knew better. I even at one point approached him and asked him to go get checked out, that maybe he had diabetes, which I knew could cause the breath to have a sweet odor. But he said nothing was wrong with him coldly and went on. His friends would come over and he would gather them in that back room with the door closed. He and his son would make a big scene about playing these games they had back there in front of my son and telling him he was not invited. They were downright cruel to us. His son would just barge into my son's room and jerk his TV out of the socket, saying he was taking it, that he lived in this house too and everything in this house was his as well, so he was taking it. My son was much bigger than him and would handle him on these things without my help, but it upset me greatly and I would tell them to stay out of my son's room and away from his things. One day my son ended up beating his son up in the backyard, this after his son tried to hit me. My son just lost it and dragged him out and pounded him good. It was the same day that I got fed up with being locked out of a room in my own house, my husband and stepson, a kid, having the only keys to it. I was the only one paying any bills, and this was enough. I took my stepson's key and entered the room. I found all kinds of porn in there, but that was about all. When Kevin came home needless to say the crap hit the fan, about me entering his private domain and my son beating up his son. He started packing his things and I did not care. He was screaming at me as he loaded his things out of the back room and back porch door into his truck. It was then that I shot back about finding his porn stash and now knowing what he was doing in his locked room, and good riddance to him. This stopped him cold and then he began trying to convince me to let him stay. I told him he needed to go, at least for now. He only went down the road a bit, moved in with another friend of his. He began calling me constantly and asking me to come talk to him. After a few days I agreed to come out and talk to him. He talked his way back in, and went right back to his same ways, but was again sleeping in our bedroom. He continued to worsen, this is when he became a bone yard and his skin turned ashen and the smell, this was in progress when he left that time, and it progressed. He would bolt upright in the middle of the night, shaking his fist in the air and cursing God. It was scary. I found that I could not stay in the room with him, I felt like something was sitting on my chest and suffocating me, it felt evil, the room felt so evil. I began sleeping on the couch.
I went online and began seeking prayer for him and our marriage. I met a Catholic woman and she began talking to me a lot. She emailed me one day and told me that my husband was possessed by demon spirits. Now realize that I was a little ole Baptist girl, a pew warmer only, and what she told me was ludicrous to me. I began picturing Linda Blair in the exorcist and thought this is ridiculous, there are no such thing as demons and people being possessed by demons, that is horror show flair. I even responded to her and said, "What? So now my life has become an exorcist movie or something"? She continued to insist that I listen to what she was telling me and she told me I had to do this and that. I was overwhelmed and very very skeptical, this could not be real in my mind. But over the next week or so, I knew something was wrong. I had begun reading about generational curses, which I could shallow, and I was thinking it is not him, it is me. There is something wrong with me, all the death that followed me all my life, all the tragedies, all the pain and sorrow. Oh...and I forgot to add another trauma above where I typed it out in blue text. I will go back and add it, but I will tell you about here as well. After I divorced my first husband, after Billy died and all that, I used to hang out at the town swimming pool, would take Carey there to play in the baby pool. The carnival was in town and there was this couple and the guy's brother that began coming to the pool every day, as the fairground was just across the street. They started up a conversation with me, and the woman, Charlotte, was very pregnant. Over the course of a week I got to know them somewhat and had sat talking to Charlotte a lot as Carey played in the water in my arms, she was not even one yet, it was July of 75 and she would turn one in August, in just a couple weeks. I found that Charlotte was very depressed and scared. She was due any day and she talked about how she just wanted to go home to Indiana to have her baby, but had no way to get there, that the carnival crew was heading to Florida when they left there. I am a soft heart and I ended up telling her that I would drive her home, that I nothing else I was doing. That Carey and I would take her home to Indiana, stay a couple days and then return home. So when the carnival caravan pulled out, Charlotte remained behind with me, kissing her hubby goodbye. I loaded her up in my car and off we went on our great adventure to Indiana. I had never been out of the state of Missouri, so I saw it as an adventure. My mom was worried sick, but like she said, she could not stop me. She later confessed to me that she did not sleep a wink and cried the whole time I was gone. We arrived safe and sound and it turned out that she lived with two spinster aunts and there was a male cousin there also, a wild-looking guy and a mentally retarded guy named Willie, who was basically their gopher. Things immediately got weird. We had only been there an hour or so and she was asking me to drive her and the aunts out to a cemetery. That was not so strange I guess, but the fact that I was ordered to stay in the car while they went off into this cemetery was. But I just let it go, they seemed nice. It was the next day that Charlotte announced that we were going to a party at a friend's house that night, so I could meet her friends. We arrived at this big mansion and immediately it became apparent that she had a thing going on with this guy that was there. I was surprised, but what could I do. After some time they had went into this big library room and closed the big sliding doors. I kind of wandered around and ended up standing in front of the doors, wondering what to do. I heard them arguing. He was yelling at her telling her that he would not allow her to do this again. She exited soon after and grabbed me and drug me out of there and back home. After a bit the phone rang and it was this guy asking for me. Willie answered the phone and he just handed it to me. This guy told me I had to get out of the house, that I had to get my baby and leave and come meet him. Charlotte went into a rage, saying that he just had the hots for me, taking the phone away and slamming it down. I had no clue what was going on, but I was leaving the next morning anyway and did not want involved. I awoke the next morning to find everything gone, my car, my suitcase, my keys. I asked Charlotte where my things were and she told me to come downstairs, that she wanted to show me something. She put in a video tape showing black satanic rituals, them killing people. She then told me they were satanists and that I was their captive. That they also ran a prostitution ring and that I would be prostituting or they would kill my child. I was then terrified and just clinging to Carey, trying to figure out what to do, how to escape. They had me locked in and under watch every second. That evening I was instructed to make some hotdogs, put them on a plate and follow her cousin, the weirdo, down to the basement. I did what I was told to find a woman naked ankle chained to a metal bed in this dark and dank, wet, basement. She was rail thin and beaten down. The food was for her. She was this cousin's sex slave and I was told she was used to conceive and birth babies for rituals. Another thing Charlotte did, she sat me down in the living room again and put on a reel-to-reel tape recording. Have you ever heard the song Roller Coaster by Ohio Players or something like that. That song was playing, but it was muffled, and there was a woman screaming on the tape, that was the main sound on the tape with this song playing muffled in the background. She told me that this band was recording this song at the fairground, the hotel there, and that they murdered this girl in the next room while they were recording their song, but they were also recording the murder in the room they were in. I know this sounds crazy, but that is what she told me and on this reel-to-reel, this girl was screaming, this recording was in the room with this girl, not that band. To this day I cannot hear that song without freaking out. Anyway, the next day in the afternoon they all left, telling Willie to stay with me and not let me out of his sight. We just sat there in the living room with Carey playing in the floor. After some time Willie started talking, and he kept repeating that he could not let them hurt that baby. With this I started talking to Willie, asking him to let me out. He said he couldn't, that they would hurt him if he did. I told him that I would leave the baby with him, that I was not going anywhere or doing anything to get away, that I just had to get the baby some milk, that he knew I would come right back because I was leaving my baby there with him. He finally agreed and let me out. I ran like the wind for blocks until I came to a small store. I went in and asked them to please let me use the phone. The manager took me to his office and I called my parents collect. I told them what was happening, the address and that I had to get back to Carey, and I hung up and ran back. We sat there in silence for what seemed like forever, but I know it was no time at all, but when you are in that situation, it seems like eternity. Finally the police were banging down the door and barging in, taking Willie into custody and getting me and Carey out. They took me to the police station and I told them all, even about Stevie, the guy and the argument and his calling me telling me to leave the house to meet him. They knew who I was talking about, told me that they knew about the family and the things they were doing, that they were prime suspects in the murders of their own family members, but they never could obtain enough evidence to arrest them. Oh, and they got the woman in the basement out, I did not forget about her and told them immediately she was down there chained up. They knew about their prostitution ring also, but again did not have enough evidence to convict them. After all the interrogation, they took me to a hotel and put me up in a room with a police guard outside the door. That evening, Stevie showed up with one of the officers and they let him inside. He sat with me the rest of the night and told me about his trying to save me from this, but they would have killed him as well, that he was just trying to get me to leave and go. My brother was on the way to retrieve Carey and I, and the next morning he did arrive. Now this is the same brother, my oldest, that went after my husband that night. He is a Navy Seal, spent two tours in Vietnam, one as a POW, and was retained later by the military to go in and bring out the rest of the POWs. He is a black belt in Taekwondo, or however you spell it, a teacher of the art, and a diver for the state. He is one mean machine and that is no joke. He showed up with two guys in tow, his best friend who is equally as mean, and one of my long ex-boyfriends of all people. They were packing and out for blood. I just wanted to go home, but they had different plans. He demanded that I show him the way to their house, and said he was getting all our things back, my car, my keys, my clothes, or people were going to die. Unbelievably they were there, I figured they would be arrested already. He went in like the national guard, wielding guns and making them kneel and cower, commanding them to do this and that. You never seen a weirdo run and bring a car so fast out of a locked garage. After everything was returned, we left and his one friend drove my car home. Stevie called me the next night as I had given him
