The orphanage

I have so many stories of this time I don't know where to begin. My brothers have their own stories. I wish Bobby and Jerry had written down some of their experiences before they died.They would be sooooo funny. I know Larry has a bunch too. Because I have always been so intense I often failed to find the humor in this period of my life. Bobby, on the other had, could always make a sad story funny.
In 1951 or 52 all of us were sent to Catholic orphanages. The boys went to Saint Joseph's in Washington,Ga., and I went to Saint Mary's in Savannah, Ga. That first year I was there was very traumatic.I had never been taught anything about God that I could remember, and never seen a nun in full habit. They scared the heck out of me!
I was use to running free, and was pretty much a happy child despite the problems at home. I had my brothers and they were my everything. I can honestly say I loved them more than our parents. At least that's how I remember feeling.My brothers were my friends, my comfort, my security. I loved them and felt they loved me. I could depend on them. To be separated from them was devastating to me. The memory that shines through all of the haze of time is the day I realized I was alone. They were not there, mom and dad were not there, and I did not know when I would ever see them again. Looking back I can see that I was very depressed. I isolated myself from the other girls. I remember lying down on the cement floor of the gazebo which was on the play ground of Saint Mary's. I rolled up in a fetal position and slept. I can tell you which side of the gazebo I was on, what the weather was like, how the sun shone through the sides of the gazebo, and how I felt. So sad, so lonely. If I had just had my brothers I would have been all right, maybe.
On this one particular day a girl named Theresa ask me to play with her. She had problems even I could discern. No one wanted to play with this girl. She was a lonely child as well, but what did I care! I had my own wounds to lick. Anyway, Theresa begged and pleaded with me to play with her. I said "NO!! Leave me alone.Go away!!" She said if I didn't play with her she would tell the nuns."Big deal", I thought. So off she went to tattletale on me. Just for good measure I yelled at her, calling her a big baby and picked up a rock and threw it. I was, of course, a very good shot. After all I had brothers. The rock found it's mark on the back of her head. The shock that hit her was dazzling! WOW, I did it! Of course Theresa started crying, and the blood started flowing,and she began running for her life. I meant to hurt her.I succeeded and was proud of it. Now she would never bother me again and it was a lesson for all of the other girls. DON'T MESS WITH JOANNE,and she won't mess with you....so I thought.
After awhile one of the older girls came to get me to take me to the nun. She may have spanked me I don't remember, but she gave me a far more severe punishment...play with Theresa the rest of the day. You've got to be kidding! Theresa kept gloating and bossing me around. I thought I would kill her. Then, I had a fabulous idea!All of the girls were given a nickle on week days to buy candy when the "candy nun" came out to the play ground. I made a deal with Theresa. I paid her off. She got my nickle and I was free of her.
I know this sounds like a sad story but I have no sadness in me as I tell it. I can see myself back then; I remember the sadness. But today I feel only happiness for the healing I have received from God. I was an industrious little girl and eventually made the adjustments needed to survive. I am a survivor and God used the time I was at Saint Mary's to protect me and teach me many things. I am grateful.