Robert Carter:
CLASS OF 1961
Nathaniel Narbonne High SchoolClass of 1961
Harbor city, CA
Robert's Story
"She knew something was wrong. Walking to the front door with groceries she heard yelling inside. She dropped the bags and ran in. It was coming from the bedroom. Running down the hall she turned the corner and saw my dad holding me upside down by one ankle violently shaking me while screaming, "SHUTUP, STOP CRYING!" She grabbed me returning me to my crib then sprained her wrist by slapping him so hard he fell down.
When dad returned from WWII he married mom and they lived with her widowed mother while they both worked to save for a house. Grandmother babysat me. Mom got home later after dad. They called it Shell Shocked back then. Now it's Post Tramatic Stress. He apologized and said he would never do that again and don't tell my mom as he was afraid she would leave him. She didn't but she never let him babysit me again.
Six months later she came home on a weekend and heard screaming again. Mom had went shopping and had him watch me. Running into the bedroom she found him holding a pillow over my face hollering at me to, "SHUT UP! BE QUIET!" It was raining and she used the umbrella in her hand to wack him hard on the side of his head making his ear bleed. She said I was blue. He almost killed me. She almost called the police but instead called her son to come over. My dad was 5'8" and was in the Army. My uncle is 6'4" and was a Marine fighting the Japanese. Dad was afraid of him. When mom got home they had a long talk. He would never be left alone with me again. Uncle told him he would break every bone in his body if he harmed me again. When I was growing up my uncle would visit my mom once a month. I thought it was strange how he looked me over. He was checking for bruises. I had a guardian angel and didn't know it.
I heard this for the first time when I was 40. My grandmother was at the end of her life and wanted me to know the truth about my father. I always wondered why I had a double groin hernia as a baby. I had to wear a truss belt for 4 years. Mom had 2 miscarriages before me. She was told not to have anymore children. Just after my hernia healed I had severe asthma from age 4 to age 14. There were no inhalers, no meds in those days. I could not do anything athletic. My active father was ashamed of me. His friends bragged about their sons. Dad could not stand the sight of me. I had to be quiet around him. Our house was on a large lot with a detached garage with a workroom that dad made my bedroom. My toilet was a coffee can. I only came in the house for meals and to empty my can. I could only eat at mealtime. Dad told my mom to never hug me. No one hugged him as a kid. I could not have friends over. We had no phone. Every July 4th I got the ladder to climb to the roof so I could see fireworks in the distance. My wife wonders why I like the Disneyland fireworks so much.
I looked forward to Sunday's. I only had one grandparent. Mom and I went to church with her and had dinner at her house. Grandmother was the only person who gave me a hug. It's funny how you can be starved for affection. I used to fall asleep hugging my purring pet cat. I knew he loved me. Something bad happened to me when I was 10. My cat got sick and died in my arms. I cried all night. Next morning dad gave me a box to bury him. I cried at the grave for a half hour. No one came out of the house to give me a hug.
My dad never gave me a birthday or Christmas gift. All I got was clothes from mom. I wanted the same thing every Christmas, a Lionel train set. Never got one. I asked for just one boxcar. Something I could hold in my hand and admire. Never got it. My wife wonders why I have a custom wall display case with Lionel trains in it. They are everything I wanted as a kid. And they run under my tree every Christmas. And I'm down on the floor watching them thinking about when I was 8 years old imagining how swell it would be - and now it is.
I learned when I started junior high that I needed to take charge of my life. There was a compulsorily physical that showed that I had cavities, needed glasses and needed surgery on my foot. I asked the nurse if it was possible for me to be put in a foster home as my home life was so bad. She asked why? I said I don't live in the house. I live in the detached garage workroom. My toilet is a coffee can. I get very cold in the winter months. I only go into the house for meals and to take a bath once a week which is when I get a change of clothes. I smell bad in class at the end of the week. I don't get much to eat and I'm always hungry. I get new shoes every 3 years and they are always too big so I have to put newspaper in the toes. My shoes are too small for me now which is why I have an ingrown toenail needing surgery. They never take me to the dentist or doctor for a checkup. I get bad grades because I can't see the blackboard being nearsighted. They have no love for me, never praise or hug me. All I get on my birthday and Christmas is clothes. At an orphanage at least I would have a toilet and be warm at night and not be hungry. The nurse talked to the principle who talked to my folks and things got better but I thought dad was going to kill me for a while.
Coach Sloan inspired us and we would do anything for him. He was like the dad you wished you had. Miss Allbright in English inspired me to write a novel. Grandmother taught me piano and guitar. That served me well in high school. It you don't have athletic skills then have music skills and you will be popular. I got invited to a lot of parties, beach bonfires and camping trips.
After I outgrew the asthma I started working out with weights and put on muscle. Dad liked me better. Before grandmother died she shared with me all of dad's secrets. She was like the caring mother he never had and he would unload on her after a hard day. From psychology in college I could see what shaped my dad. When his dad returned home from WWI he learned his sister was pregnant and her boyfriend refused to marry her. So he had a talk with him. It resulted in him beating him to death and he went to prison for murder. His mother divorced him and they moved to the West Coast. She remarried but his stepfather was a drunk who beat him often. This let him to join a street gang. He became their leader. They stole cars, burglarize homes and businesses. He was caught and sent to a reform school. When 18 a judge had him join the Army. I didn't know he had a sister. She married well and had 3 healthy sons, all sport heroes. She talked about them so much that he disowned her as he was ashamed of me. I learned where she lived and on our next vacation we drove to Oregon and my wife and kids knocked on her door. It was a nice visit.
I disliked my father most of my life but after hearing his past, I let him have it with both barrels. I said: "Grandmother told me about every dirty rotten thing you did in your life." He was shocked. I talked to him for half an hour. I saved the best for last saying: "Your baby sister died of food poisoning and the doctor that came to your house could not save her because his office was burglarized. And it was your teenage gang that stole everything. You felt bad about taking his bag but instead of returning it you threw it in the ocean off the pier. And the time when grandmother walked in to find you with a pillow over my head screaming for me to shut up. I was only a baby. I was blue. You killed your baby sister and you almost killed me as a baby!" He broke down and said he was sorry and I forgave him and we had our first hug. We became friends and started doing fun things together. We went to ball games, went fishing and took short train rides. I had him call his sister and they got back together. I guess the truth does set you free. Got any skeletons in your closet?
How was your childhood? Most people don't know how lucky they are to have been spared a lifetime of nightmares. Imagine being forced to live in hell for a year where every day someone is trying to kill you. I went to college right after high school. I got drafted in my third year when a class got dropped for lack of students. I went to Fort Bliss, Texas for Army Basic Training. After bootcamp we went to Advance Individual Training at Fort Ord, California. It was called Vietnam Jungle combat training. I got assigned to Alpha Company in the 196th light infantry Brigade at a firebase called Hawk Hill. It was southwest of Da Nang and halfway to Laos in the foothills. We were out in the field about 3 months at a time and then would spend a few days at Chu Lai for rest and relaxation. After that it was back out in the boonies again. We were in rice paddies part of the time but mostly in the jungle portion of the lower mountains.
If you were drafted your dogtags started with US. If you enlisted they started with RA (Regular Army). 90% of the men drafted were 18 years old right out of high school. The sergeants were all RA. All the guys in my platoon and squad were 18 year olds. Being an only child I found out what it was like to have brothers. Spending a year tour with them you became close like family. Since I was 21 they treated me like their worldly older brother. We became close. I knew the names of their family members. I knew their hopes and dreams. That's why it was hard for me to be told they were all killed in a battle while I was in a coma in a field hospital. The head injury gave me a short term memory. Years later on vacation to see the nation's capital museums I took my bootcamp yearbook and visited the Black Wall. I looked up names in my graduating class. I put an "X" by their photo if their name was on the wall. They were ALL on the wall. Why did God save a wretch like me?
My life was a living hell when I got out of the service. I used the GI Bill to go back to college full time. I was only a year from getting my engineering degree. I had no idea my memory problem was so severe until I started classes. I could not...Expand for more
remember anything the professors said in their lectures. I could not write notes fast enough. I had to drop out of school. And I had another problem.
I envy you. You can probably close your eyes and visualize in your mind the faces of your family and friends. I cannot do that. I have no memory of my children growing up or time spent with my wife. It's funny, I can clearly see the face of my pet dog and cat and visualize places I have been but I have no memory of any time spent with people. The VA thought it might be psychosomatic because of all the horrors I saw. But a CAT scan showed I had brain damage so I started getting monthly compensation checks for the loss of revenue over my lifetime of no college degree.
I got very depressed trying to find a job. I failed dozens of job interviews because I could not remember anything they said. A friend told me the phone company was hiring vets. This time I said right away that I don't deal well with people because of my memory problem. But I am very good at fixing machines if they have manuals I can read. They hired me and I was with them for 45 years until I retired.
I was only on my job a few months when a coworker insulted me for being a vet. With my PTS I threatened to break his nose. To keep my job I had to get counseling. That was the best thing to happen to me. I learned to block painful memories and sleep better at night. At therapy a guy said his wife divorced him after she gave birth to a deformed monster because he got exposed to Agent Orange, the toxic defoliant. I never did.
My therapist said the best way to help yourself is to help others doing volunteer work and offered suggestions. I started spending Saturday mornings at the Foundation for the Junior Blind. I read stories to different age groups. I had drama in school and could change my voice to suit the character. I asked a friend who did plays if he could make up a sound effects kit in a suitcase I could use to enhance my reading like the old time radio shows and he did. I had shoes in gravel, thunder, rain and vials of different scents that I could blow in their direction so they could smell the pine trees or ocean spray. Those were the best years of my life.
I spent evenings at the VA hospital. I asked for soldiers who had no family and no visitors. Imagine you are a teenager and you have to spend the rest of your life there. Many are virgins or not even kissed a girl. What kept them going was Thursdays. The latest Hollywood movies were shown to them at the hospital a day before they were released to the public. They could escape their dull lives by watching the film. I used to tell the soldiers how lucky they were that they could see the movies as the blind kids could never share the experience. I used to tell the blind kids how lucky they were because the soldiers could never leave the hospital or experience walking or being touched or loved. If you have any depressed friends, tell them how lucky they are not to be like the blind kids or soldiers.
Finding a girlfriend or wife was another disaster. You would meet someone then talk on the phone for a few days then meet for dinner. I looked foolish because I could not remember anything we talked about on the phone. I thought I was doomed to be single. You find love in the least expected places. Renaissance Faires were popular back then so I joined a club and learned to speak Old English and became a knight and fought with sword. I was very good because of my combat training. I met my wife there. She was a saucy serving winch and sang bawdy songs to her admirers in the tavern where I played guitar. Her dad was a vet so she didn't mind my forgetfulness.
I used to think that Vietnam was the worst time of my life but it pales in comparison to being devastated when you lose the love of your life. My son was only 10 years old when a hit-run driver took his mother from him. I was happily married for 20 years with 3 kids 10, 13 and 17. I was so depressed I quit eating. I lost over 40 pounds. My oldest daughter snapped me out of it when she slammed a large can of protein powder in front of me and said: "We miss mom too! We don't want to lose you! If you don't want to eat then drink this!"
The only way I could remember her was with photos around the house and in albums. Disaster struck again. A year later I took all the kids on vacation. We returned home to find our house burnt down. An electrical fire late at night in the neighbor's garage spread to our house. Everything destroyed including all wall photos and photo albums. The insurance rebuilt the house but my life as a child, growing up, falling in love, photos showing the kids grow ...... all wiped out. It was like she never existed. And you think you had a tough life? In the years to come I only took digital photos and had copies with friends so I would never lose memories again.
I lost my second wife to mental illness. She refused therapy. We met taking dance lessons. We dated for two years and I never had a clue about her condition. The only unusual thing was that her younger sister was molested by a "neighbor". She later married and had children but her father had never been allowed to visit her house. My wife's father had a strange hold over her. If I suggested we do something she always called him to get his advice. She did everything he said. It was like I was married to him. I think she was molested too. She did the silent treatment often. It was the strangest thing, she would not talk to me for two days then wake up the third morning and begin talking to me like nothing had happen. The first time it happened I told her I think something happened in your childhood and you don't want a therapist or pastor to know about it. She immediately screamed: "MY DAD SAYS THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!" I hit a nerve. She did not talk to me for a week. The incidents got more frequent and longer until one day she never talked to me again. I was served at work with divorce papers and a restraining order that required me to move out of the house that I owned. I could not believe it. I was always loving and kind to her. When I went home there was a police car in my driveway. Her father answered the door. Looking at his face I could see the demon in him. The cop told me I had an hour to pack clothes and leave. The rest would be delivered. She was not home. What a sick family. For the third time in my life I was devastated.
I met a lot of interesting women after that and kept a journal. Here's an entry: She was in a bad mood and the talking went downhill. I found myself being subtlety insulted even though I tried to change the subject to something fun. I then told her I was not going to be verbally abused so I stood up to leave and threw cash on the table telling her to have a nice lunch. She then burst into tears and apologized and asked me to please stay and that she knows she has a problem and let's start over. It was like talking to a different person. Then she seemed to change as she suddenly took my hand and was running caresses up my arm and bending low over the table outrageously flirting with me. I was enjoying myself, but suddenly she tossed my hand back at me and accused me of being fresh by touching her and started her mad streak again! I stood up again to leave ... and the tears started again and then the flirting. I saw 3 separate personalities. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer and I asked if she forgot her medication. That really made her mad! They had just brought our salads and she scooped hers up and dumped it on my head saying 'What do you think!' then she got up and left. I was grateful she had ordered her dressing on the side.
In the years to come I had five women tell me they loved me. They all would make fine wives but I could not tell them I loved them. My therapist said I was still healing and I would love again when I met the right person. I did. I am very happy now. My mom lived to be 95. We had just finished a game of cribbage and she was taking her usual afternoon nap. The last thing she said to me was: "When I see my guardian angel I'm going to give him a black eye for letting me live so long." The angel took her in her nap.
We went out to breakfast often. Once a month I asked her to pick out someone in the restaurant that I could anonymously buy their meal. Here's a favorite memory: Breakfast at a beach cafe. Mom picked two ladies in their eighties sitting across the room. Unfortunately they finished before we did. When our young girl server told them it was paid, one grabbed the girl's wrist and told her she was not letting go until she pointed out who it was. The girl immediately pointed her finger at me and said, "That's him. He made me do it!" They both quickly got up and marched over to our table not looking happy. They glared at me for a second then both broke into big smiles saying, "We are retired schoolteacher nuns and never in our lives has anyone showed us an act of kindness like you just did. Bless you my son." I blushed as everyone in the restaurant was looking at us. They poured out more praises while I sunk down in my seat much to my wife and mom's enjoyment.
Being retired is great. We have 7 grandchildren. My hobbies are Garden Railways and Model Airplanes. The grandkids love running the trains. My wife likes the miniature houses, people and bonsai plants. The radio controlled planes have the same thrill and excitement of the real thing. I teach how to fly. Want to learn? Hobbies make life more fun. I always pay extra for a car with a premium sound system with a sub-woofer as there is a huge difference in sound. I love putting the retractable hardtop down and rock out just driving around town. Our favorite weekend getaways are Solvang, Pismo Beach, Morro Bay and Cambria. We cruise often. Alaska and New England are favorites. What was your best vacation? Ever see the Pumpkin People in Vermont?
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