Anyways, I said all that to say that as I wrote the title for this post, I had to look up the word "scarred" to make sure it was correct. I was right, but talked myself into the idea that maybe it was "scared." I looked both words up, and the funny thing is-both would be perfect. So, I write under the titles:
Scarred For Life
or
Scared for Life
The year was 1979. I was four years old and my little sister, Chrystal, was not quite two. My father was pastoring a small church in Dayton, Ohio, and we lived at the parsonage on the church property. I remember it all so plainly.
It was early afternoon and my mother came down the stairs. She said, "Wayne, I will be back in a couple of hours, Chrystal is asleep upstairs. Keep an eye on her." Dad agreed with a grunt and I remember hearing the large aluminum screen door slam shut and rattle due to a lack of a working spring.
My dad and I were lying on the couch watching my favorite cartoon-Casper the Friendly Ghost. Dad then said, "Travis, listen for your sister."
Those were the last words I remember. Dad went to sleep and I soon followed. The next thing I heard was my mother's voice.
"Wayne, wake up. Where's Chrystal?"
Where's Chrystal!?
Dad sat up, "She is still in the bed," dad replied. "No she isn't!" Replied a very anxious mother. By this time, I didn't understand fully what was going on, but I felt the fear in the room and began to cry. Dad ran upstairs, mom started calling out her name through the house, and I cried. Dad ran down the stairs shouting her name, mom ran out the door shouting her name, and I cried.
Then it happened. Dad and mom both met back in the living room, frantically yelling out Chrystal's name, and it was then Dad looked at me and said,
It's Your fault, I told you to watch her."
My fault? How could I do this? How could I have allowed my little baby sister to disappear or get taken? How could I have failed in my duties so bad? How could I be such a failure? Wait a minute, I was FOUR!!
Dad then ran out the door, mom got on the phone, and I cried harder. It seemed like days, but it was really only about 30 minutes and dad came in with Chrystal. (At least he told me it was Chrystal. Yes, she was blonde and about two, but lets just say that there aren't too many baby pictures of Chrystal available for our viewing to this day. I am not accusing...I'm just saying it might explain a lot.)
Anyways, Chrystal was back home, safe and sound and I was off the hook for failing my post as a FOUR YEAR OLD!
Where was she? Well, it seemed that dad was running up and down the streets (funny thought there isn't it?), when an old man on his porch in a near by house said, "Hey, you looking for a little blonde girl?" "Yes, you seen one" dad asked. "Yup," he replied, "she is at that pizza place on the corner three blocks away." Dad went in the pizza place and there, sitting on the bar eating pretzles and pizza was my sister. They had called the police, but they had not arrived yet. Everyone was back where they should be.
Could you imagine if that happened today? Children's service would have taken my sister and I on the spot!
So, here we are 30 years later (Happy anniversary on your FIRST attempt at running away Chrystal). To this day, I greatly fear my children wondering away from me. When we are at a store, my children must be in sight at arm's length at all times. When we are at home, the kids may play outside, but only if I or Stacey are watching them. I can't tell you how many times TODAY I asked Stacey, "Where is Alex? Where is Grace? Where is Hope?"
Why am I this way? Because my sister escaped while I was on assigned patrol, I was a failure and felt the blame for it all-and from it all am Scarred/Scared for Life.
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