I Want Travel to the 1940's
My earliest years were happy ones. When I hear swing music it takes me back to those days reminding me that it all really happened. I was a pretty, happy beloved child. My parents adored me. I had friends and playmates. And I felt safe.
But my sense of safety was an illusion as I soon found out. The red scare of the 1950s in the US began with the passage of the McCarran Act. My mother and father were in the (now illegal) Communist Party.
My mother was a major player and a powerful person in the CPUSA. (That CP died in 1989 just before the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991. There is a new one; they have a website, but I don't know anything about the new one and don't want to).
I was not chosen for CP youth training. It probably had to do with my father being uncooperative during a mission he and my mother were assigned to (according to my father's file accessed under the FOIA).
From that time forward, life became a nightmare for me. For reasons I have not entirely figured out, my mother's love for me disappeared. She was in a rage at me most days.
My mother mistreated me every way she knew how from that time on. From the age of around 5 years old, I became her favorite victim. All her love for me turned to hatred and contempt. The lullabies, the goodnight kisses, the bedtime stories, the jokes and the laughter, the walks in the park, the encouraging words, the hugs, the smiles...all of that came to a sudden crashing halt.
Someone had pulled the emergency cord on my happy train.
But my sense of safety was an illusion as I soon found out. The red scare of the 1950s in the US began with the passage of the McCarran Act. My mother and father were in the (now illegal) Communist Party.
My mother was a major player and a powerful person in the CPUSA. (That CP died in 1989 just before the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991. There is a new one; they have a website, but I don't know anything about the new one and don't want to).
I was not chosen for CP youth training. It probably had to do with my father being uncooperative during a mission he and my mother were assigned to (according to my father's file accessed under the FOIA).
From that time forward, life became a nightmare for me. For reasons I have not entirely figured out, my mother's love for me disappeared. She was in a rage at me most days.
My mother mistreated me every way she knew how from that time on. From the age of around 5 years old, I became her favorite victim. All her love for me turned to hatred and contempt. The lullabies, the goodnight kisses, the bedtime stories, the jokes and the laughter, the walks in the park, the encouraging words, the hugs, the smiles...all of that came to a sudden crashing halt.
Someone had pulled the emergency cord on my happy train.
70-79, F
