The Beginning


The Beginning

This is the where I consider to be the beginning point of the way I now see it. The turning point was back on that dark Idaho highway in 1978.

September 1986, Christine had moved out and had phone cut off, and filed for divorce, I figured my try at civilization life with other human beings was a failure. I decided on a date to go back out on the road and head for Montana and live the rest of my life in the woods, I had heard others had done it, so I bought a small crossbow and sleeping bag, tent compass and that kind of stuff (lots of matches to use till I figured out how start fires rubbing sticks together) I was down to the day, I was leaving after I got my paycheck on Friday, I was selling off all the stuff I could that belonged to me. I was living in the house Chris inherited from her mother, so when I was gone, she would move back in. Friday morning, I woke up with the worse stomach ache I ever had, and it got worse! I figured I had some flu. I laid there on the couch trying to sleep hoping that when I awoke I would feel good enough to get on my bicycle (I didn\’t have a car) and get my paycheck from work, I didnt get any sleep and anytime I got up to walk around I was all hunched over, couldnt stand up straight, it was not good. One person showed up to buy some tools from me and I had to walk way out in the backyard to the garage to show them, what a long painful walk that was! About 6:00 pm Chris came to get my check from me, she knew if she didnt, I would blow it! But if things would have gone as planned, I would have been gone – hehe. Noooooo! She saw me laying there on the couch and got upset that I didnt go to work or have my check, she left.

That weekend was really bad, nobody else came by, I was all alone becoming alittle scared, I ate some chocolate pudding, only once, thats all I ate. I even got on my bike and painfully road up to the Baptist Church hoping they would help, they told me they could not help me, so I road home and laid on that couch. While I was laying there, I didnt know what to think, I said one of those prayers like I had done while I was on an on-ramp on the  LA Freeway back in 1975 when I was scared that my leg was paralyzed or something ( I dont really know) I was really scared though. I asked God I dont know anything about you, but please help? Very soon my leg felt better and I wasnt scared anymore! Then on Monday, I prayed like that on that couch, and a couple hours later Chris come back to the house after she got off work,  and found me exactly where she left me on Friday. She was still upset, but this time she was worried, I imagine I didnt look well either. She asked if I thought I needed to go to emergency room, I said maybe so, so she took me on a wild jerky ride to the ER clinic on Dunn Ave. They checked me out and said I needed to go to the hospital. So they got ahold of Chris, she took me to St Vincents Hospital and dropped me off, they took me right in, just before they shoved the tube down my throat they asked what was the last thing I ate was, I told them, I heard an ohhhhh in the background and thats the last thing I remember. Next thing I remember a few days later, they told me my appendix burst, they had cut me wide open not just an incision.
Anyway, 2 weeks later Chris picked me up at hospital and took me back to the house and dropped me off. There I am again, alone. After many days she came and talked to me, said if I moved out and stay at a half-way house she had setup for me awhile, get my head together, then I could move back and she would call off the divorce. I agreed, and she did what she said she would do.

It was there at that house in Springfield, that I determined to read the bible through which I did, I will say here that Chris was a recovered alcoholic, but in 1976 she received the holy ghost, read the bible, went to church, the stuff I only tolerated, every chance I could to get out of it, I would! I hated church, so boring! Nothing worse (even torment to me) nodding out while sitting there, knowing everyone is seeing me, thinking how terrible I was for allowing myself to do that – in church! So I did read it through. I still didnt like going to church.

I moved out of that place in March 1987, moved back in with Chris. She went back out of remission with the Hodgkins disease and had to go another round of chemotherapy and one radiation treatment. At the end of the session she was feeling pretty good, happy, but then in the middle of July, I had to take her to the hospital, after a few days, July 24, 1987 she died of blood infection. So I buried her on the 28th. Our third anniversary. I was alone again.
So much for living in the Montana wilderness the rest of my days!
I know this is a sad story, it is working up to a happy ending, please bare with me. Anyway what could I leave out, and it still be My Story?





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