Terrorized in a Trailer Park:
A True Life Experience!
When
we moved from Ohio to Florida, my family and I under went a lot of
changes. Not only is there the so-called "thickened blood" scenario, but
there was a lot more. And before I continue, you are probably going-
what is this "thickened blood" thing anyway? Allow me to explain: that
is where your body adjusts to temperature change. Ohio's summers are a
lot cooler than here in Florida. And we moved from Ohio in late
July, thinking it was hot, only to find out, it was even hotter in
Florida. They say that your blood thickens or "something" because of
this, I don't know if it's true or not, but I can tell you this. I have
watched others do the same thing we did, and we know longer think of it
as hot as we once did!
Anyhow, the other change was moving in with my husbands parents. Mind you, we never did get along, but my mother-in-law promised we would make this work. Her husband, my father-in-law was having heart problems and being hospitalized a lot. My husbands' siblings and mother, were portraying this as if the man was literally dying. And myself, after loosing my parent, I wanted what was best for everyone else, and this seemed like the thing.
We didn't make it a month, at there house, unfortunately. My mother-in-law managed to get drunk and have a fit, and all hell broke loose. Needless to say, she had my husband and brother-in-law thrown in jail, because of her drunken actions, and other family members and their assumptions. Yes, she of course had to involve other family members, and make it a big time scene.
This in itself, is another "story" that I might decided to write about later! But, like I said, this was not even a month. Luckily my husband had already had a job, though. But now, he had a police record too.
In the midst of the war with my in-laws, I took the kids and ran away. I didn't know much around there, so I went to my husband's work, this way I could explain to them, why my husband would be absent, so we wouldn't lose our income. The kids and I slept in the parking lot, in our van. My sister-in-law called my husband’s work that morning, assuming I would be unable to contact them myself. She gave them a whopper of a story too, hoping it would in fact help him to lose that job.
This was our first
problem. Next was we needed a place to stay, since the schools threatened to
take the kids away from us, because we were living out of the van. My sister-in-law called the schools too. Why not, assume we are living in it for entertainment.
Luckily we made a friend, from my husband’s work, and he took us in, he let us reside in his residence, so the school lost out on taking the kids from us. We slept in his spare room, all seven of us huddled up in one bed.
Thankfully, the chapter thirteen we had filed in Ohio, was over paid, and the Judge was honest, and refunded to us the over payment. So now we had over four thousand dollars to do something with. This was a God send!
In the afternoon we go house hunting, and the only thing we can find, and get into rapidly is a trailer park. People don't want children around in Florida; they prefer the retired and elderly. These are called fifty-five and older residences. But the park we found was a family trailer park. And in this park, we managed to get the biggest trailer they had. It needed work, and the landlord told us this. We thought things were going to start looking up.
We filled out the paper work, and put a huge sum down. After completion of signing, and being shown the house and given the keys, the landlord, proudly states to us, "Now than, I'll give you a few days, before I inform the authorities and child welfare that there is no kitchen in your home, no stove, no refrigerator.
I have no choice. This is not a safe environment for children to be living." We were dumbfounded.
Floridians must live to involve the department of children and
families. How could she have been so two faced? She never mentioned this
while we were considering buying the place! No of course not.
We manage clean the
place up, bomb it for bugs, all this before moving in. We also start
purchasing the sinks, counters, refrigerators, washers, dryers, etc, and
have it delivered. The neighbors stare and gossip. They made it obvious. The landlord tells them, that we paid in cash, with a huge lump sum. Can you imagine,
like it was there business?! This was not assumed by us, the manager
told us she made it public knowledge! We saw no reason for them to be
telling us anything about us! Apparently HIPPA is not for everyone, everywhere and everything. How fortunate.
While moving in, they see and stare, as to what is going in. A computer, sofa, beds, you name it. The computer seemed to upset a bunch of them, so again they go to the landlord, and she tells them, yes, she is an Internet junkie. I never understood why until later. (The lady asked what we did for a living for approval.)
The landlord sent out notices constantly. For everything and anything, bogus reasons, and just to make sure you didn't forget she was in charge. She also did a newsletter. I began noticing that when the newsletters and notices were handed out, they all went to the managers' house.
Eventually I asked the manager why, and she told me, that a lot of them couldn't read. I was shocked! One time, we received a notice for making sex noises too loudly in the middle of the night. She made this public knowledge too! I know, mind blowing isn’t it?
But anyhow, I planted plants outside, took care of them and kept to myself. I am kind of shy, until I get to know you. My husband worked long hours, all the time, and was rarely home. The kids of course, went to school. When, and if the neighbors would wave, I would wave back. But notice I said if. Instead they went by saying things, making crude comments, and laughing. And they made certain I heard. They called me ‘Goody two shoes’, because I had a computer, and a husband who gave me things, three cars, and he let me do what I wanted. They made fun of me, because my breasts were huge, anything and everything that was plain as day- or told to them- they made fun of. I heard it all, like I said; it was said as plain as day, for me to hear. No secrets there.
The area of Florida in which we moved to, men are to be the boss of a marriage, and nothing is or was equal. Meals are to be on the table at a certain time, and you put out when told. My husband and I believe we are equals, everything we get is ours, and so on so forth. In this area of Florida, that is a no-no. If you think I am kidding, a neighbor had a wife who literally had to hand him beer from a cooler that sat beside him, and open it for him! I told my husband this later-never to hold his breath on getting service like that from me! He of course laughed, we both laughed.
Several trailers came up for sale, and we bought them, fixed them up and rented them out. The landlord said tenants needed to be approved by her first. So the applications were checked out by her, and she picked whom she wanted. She ended up screwing us in more ways then one. One tenant stole the toilet, (yeah you read that right!) the other didn't pay until you obtained a court order. Then she went to court, to try to petition evict me from a park, which she was not manager of, or owner of, but only a resident. In other words she attempted a counter suit.
The neighbors in this park, call child welfare and the dog pounds on each other right and left. After that didn't get them enough attention, they started calling CODE. And trust me; this park was far from perfect.
The landlord makes sure to keep the tenants at one another's throats, by spreading lies and rumors; I think it was for her own personal entertainment. She pitted people against one another, blamed people for this and that, without a burden of proof. And these people believed whatever she had to say, as if it were gold.
But I wasn't that stupid. I
tried to turn everything around, I tried making friends, and she
managed to screw with that too. She told them, the only reason I wanted
friendship, was to get info, to tell the authorities. So I went to her,
and asked what the deal was with my husband by my side, of course. She
said that I was way too good for these people, and that I need not worry
what they think. She told me she was trying to get rid of the trash
from the park, and told me she had in fact called child welfare on
several people, and the dog pound. I told her I was being blamed for all
those calls, and she told me she knew. "I can't let them know I'm the
bad guy, now can I?" She said. I was getting mad. I thought this was America, freedom
of choice; I should not have been condoned, blamed and abused because of this.
One evening, my husband and I are lying in bed, and the sky went orange outside. We sat up to look, and the van was on fire! He raced out of bed, and it was the drivers' seat, so he couldn't move the van away from the house that way. I was dialing the fire department. My sons were helping their father. My husband had to get his truck, hook a chain to the front, and pull it away from the house, so it wouldn't catch fire too. The fire department drove past the trailer park several times. The neighbors stood outside laughing and pointing. Once the fire was out, the fire department was talking to the both of us, when a neighbor came over to us and said, "You got what you deserved, Bitch!" That was it, I was running after him, and trust me, he was running away. The Police and Fire department men grabbed hold of me, and kept telling me to calm down. They determined immediately it was arson. That's what the fire marshal was trying to tell us, when that man opened his mouth. The van was totaled. After the fire, since the van was pulled close to the street, but in our yard, neighbors brought people to see their prize terrorist attack on us. People drove through from out of town, pointing and gawking. The tenants were quite proud of themselves. And they would even walk by, still saying, "We got what we deserved, now move out!" Believe it or not, not a soul was charged, but like I said, it was definitely proved as arson.
Child welfare investigated us many of times. Why? Because they started calling them on us when nothing else worked. Allegedly, they were acting out against us because of the calls I was blamed to be making. It was to the point that we now knew
all the case workers by name. One call, the case worker came to me, and
she point blank told me, to tell her to get a warrant. I told her I
didn't want the courts or police involved. She told me they wouldn't.
She was just there last week, and would only involve the courts if she
felt she needed to, and in this case she didn't. Another time, the case
worker showed up across the street looking for me, and then came to my
house looking for the one who made the call, to get facts from her. So
in that case, we knew who called, and the case worker had a lot of
lovely details that were made up from them. The case worker asks us not
to hate the people who called, since it was obvious who did what. We did
not get even.
Another time a different woman came over, announced
that she called child services on me, because I looked at her husband.
She said I was a lousy mother, that the landlord told her so, and had
given her the number to child services. I chased that woman all the way
to her home. I wasn't playing these head games anymore. I beat on her door,
trying to get her to open it for several minutes, and she wouldn't.
Eventually, my kids came over and took me home.
One reason Child Welfare is always called, is because our third born son has a huge mole on his waist trunk area. So when you are busy spying from a window, I guess it would look like a bruise. But it isn't. And because when it rained, the kids played in the puddles, which to them is bad parenting. And it was also how the kids were getting ring worms. Mind you, I never lost custody of my kids; they weren't being abused or neglected in anyway. Except by those in the trailer park, of course.
Eight foot crosses are planted in the yard covered in gasoline, and set fire to. I thought that went out ages ago, and I also thought it was what whites did to coloreds. We are white, so I guess they were saying we were colored. Well, I would much rather be colored, than be a red neck hick like them. The crosses incident happened two times, one time they sat it next to our new van, and covered it in gasoline, luckily we were getting ready to leave, and caught it before they could light it! Again, the sheriff departments can of course-do nothing. They have to have physical evidence with witnesses.
Mind you, I am by far not including every single detail pulled on us. There were more stunts, and on a daily basis. And sometimes, and this was my favorite-the Sheriff's did in fact witness things, and chose, that's right chose to do nothing.
In the meantime, the landlord hadn’t been paying the bills; instead she's been gambling the monies away. So she gets sued, evicted, and sent on her merry way. Now a new landlord gets involved. It seems like this trailer park is cursed for landlords. This one isn't any better. The tenants, grow weed, sell weed, and do weed, and are proud of it. They party all day and all night, and a good majority of them- don't have jobs, let alone an education.
Needless to say,
no park owner could pay the bills, and keep that park a float. The
tenants don't pay rent, CODE was always involved, and not one landlord
was a descent person. We went through three, and the last one gave up
hope. All the landlords, played head games with the tenants, and the
tenants played head games with one another. I hated it; it was driving
me insane, and caused me to loose control over my own emotions. I had to be put on medication. The medication was also for their safety.
Months of agitation and aggravation continued. They would walk past my house, holding nooses, telling both my husband and I they were going to hang us. They started pulling stunts, right after the landlord said they weren’t doing anything wrong. I think these people loved entertaining one another.
Water was put into my husbands' gas tank, ruining his truck. It took months of working on it, to determine what they had literally done to it. By then the engine was a mess. My van was scratched with a key, deep writing on the trailer and shed, stating: "Move out!" and other profanity. Spray painted, written with marker, grooved into the cars. The Nazi symbol too. The kids had bikes stolen on a daily basis, plants were dug out, and put into others yards, such petty stuff. Every stunt they pulled meant the next day they would walk by asking, “What do you think of me now?”
You call the Sheriff, because it is a small city, and they tell you daily, "There's nothing we can do, unless we see it." We ask if we can tape it, and are told no, it was against the law. Profanities are yelled from others homes day and night. Things are thrown through our windows.
We have a death in the family up North, and have to leave. We lock up the house tight, and go. There is no one to watch over it, except people from my husbands' job. When we came back, we came home to see we were robbed. Windows broke, and BB holes shot through the trailer all over. Report filed- nothing done.
A few days go by, and when I am in the tub, someone sneaks in the back door, and comes in and beats me with three hammers. I was beaten badly, and managed to call the police. I knew who it was, and was shocked, but the law still did nothing except make a report.
My second born, is
messed with daily too, and one day, they pick him up and throw him to
the ground before School. They broke his collar bone. He identified who,
but get this-no one was charged. They said because my son name called
and agitated them, it was allowed.
My first born, walks home with this kid, and asked about that kid's sister, and that kid beat the crap out of my son, blackened his eye, cuts and bruises everywhere. All because he asked about the kids little sister. The Sheriffs did nothing, and there were witnesses.
My third born, went to this big bulky neighbor one day, as the man kept slamming on us, and I mean all of us- and he went up to him, and told him he could fight him. The guy yelled at us, to come get our son, or he was going to kill him. I call the sheriffs, and my husband goes over. My son tells him, "Dad, I'm done with this. I can take him on; let me beat the crap out of him, please!" The guy is shocked, because my third born is skinny, tall but skinny. Eventually the neighbor backs off. This scenario where my kids get fed up, keeps happening, making the neighbors nervous.
One day, this woman stands out in front of my house, as she did daily, calling out to me to fight her. This day, I did exactly what she was asking, and went to her. I told her "Let's get this over with, so we can move on with our lives. Let’s fight right here, right now. I'm ready, and obviously so are you." Her jaw dropped, and she started walking toward her house. "Now, dang it! You wanted this, let's get it done!" I yelled. She started walking faster, and I followed. Once she was closer to her house, she turned to flip me the bird, but I guess she didn't know I was hot on her tail. She freaked out, and ran into her house and locked the door. That woman never said another word to me again, after that.
To attempt at making friends with these people, I did start driving them around, after all, we had three vehicles, and the majority of them had none. So we went to the store here and there, for one, to a friend's house for another. They started being friendlier, and wanting and needing rides, and realized they could use me for this. I let them, trying to prove to them, I could be nice, and get to know them. I wanted invited over, but that never happened. I wanted them to like me, I was trying to do what they wanted, but it didn't seem to be working. I did get invited to a bar once with the manager though. David, my husband was our designated driver. The manager said I needed a night out, and deserved it, and she even bought me a few rounds. I ended up with a tattoo in my right ankle, because she said I needed one. It hurt like hell, but she talked me into it, and I admit I was curious.
The next day, a neighbor came over to view the tattoo; it was the talk of the town. Then she needed a ride to her friends to pick something up. I drove her. It was down a long and windy wash-board road. It was my first time on a wash-board road, and it was scary, I thought my van was going to fall apart. When we got to her friends, she came back out with a pack of cigarettes, she said she truly appreciated it, she needed them badly. She lit it, it was pot. I had smelled it before as a child at a concert, I knew that smell. I started quietly crying to myself. I was risking loosing my license, custody of my children for her fix. And she didn't even have the decency to ask if I minded if she smoked, I mean after all- she knew I didn't even smoke.
Once home, I told my husband, by this time- I was big time crying. He felt so bad, and told me point blank-as if I didn't already know this-"No more! That's it! You're done!" He was frustrated. He went to the neighbor and told her. She was not pleased. She didn't apologize, instead she told him, "You people need to quit being such goody two shoes. Y'all aren't better than us!" Maybe we aren't, but we also don't want to lose our kids for something that stupid-especially something someone else was doing! And as for my license, I earned it, it’s mine, and who and what I drive are my business. There are laws, and I obey them, not to mention I don’t smoke or do drugs. Never have, never will.
Eventually we started looking for some place else to live. We even moved out of that city into a totally different one. We managed to rent to own from an individual.
