I was my mother's first child. She had just become married and I think that she really thought that she was going to have the perfect family. It helps me to think that she wanted this, I don't want to think that she meant me or any of her other children any harm. I know that she was sick but I don't remember any type of ritual abuse. I think that most of my memories now have to do with her losing her temper. I don't remember ever being close with her. I remember crying because she was unhappy but never being loved by her. That would turn out to be a theme throughout my life, never feeling loved. Though I am coming to understand that I am loved and there are those that do care about me. It took a lot of work to get this far.

Eleven months after my birth my mother had a girl. I talk to her now and she says that she does not remember any closeness with our mother either. My sister tells me that she was born premature because of a beating that my mother took at the hands of my father. Because of a problem involving the cord, she may not have been alive if it were not for her being born early. She had always just thought that it was her that mother did not like but we have talked and I think that she now understands that mother did not know how to show love and she was caught up in her own illnesses. Sometime after the birth of my sister my father left us and mother was on her own. I don't know that much about what she did for money but I know that she was doing drugs and going out often leaving us with relatives. These were children, who were left to take care of us.

I have not talked to my mother so I don't know a lot about how things went with us and I was kinda young. At some point she had another child that was given up for adoption at birth. This was about one year from the birth of my sister. I don't know a lot about this child but I do know that she was a girl. I called my mother up on the phone, out of the blue, when I was about 16 years old to find more about this sister that I had just found out that I had. She could not give me any information, I really don't think that she knew anything.

Time has passed since I started this page. I am searching for my mother, hoping to get to know her. I post on message boards but that works on the assumption that she is looking at those boards, i.e. looking for me. I search the listings on these boards and find that there are many out there also searching for their lost family members. I feel the desparation and longing to find their lost ones. I leave my email and my message all over the web in the hope that I will one day find Kathy. If she was to ever find this page, I leave this contact here as well: mjmjack2@yahoo.com.

My contact with my biological sister has become something I am very grateful for. It is a family that is not by name or adoption but by blood. She is a big part of my growth as I learn about who I am becomming in this walk. Because I am older than she is, I remember things that she does not about our shared childhood. But then she will tell me something I don't remember, so I am learning from her in this too.

I wrote above that I contacted Kathy when I was 16, but I don't remember that. I have many problems with memory. I thought that I had in fact contacted her a few years ago via email after finding her on the web by a search. Now I don't know if this is true anymore. You would have to know about the things that I have undergone in the treatment of my illnesses to fully understand how my memory has become so...untrustworthy to even me on some things. Eventually I will talk about those treatments but this page is not for that, it is a place to record information about my childhood and my family.

What follows is a "best of my recollection" timeline of my childhood. The dates are not going to be exact but I will do the best I can with the ages. As I gather more information I will add/delete information as needed to make this as accurate as I can.

I was born in Califonia in 1965 to Pete and Kathy Rosen. I think that they were together for about one year or so. After my sister Michelle was born, Kathy divorced and then married Ralph? Hewitt. I think that she had two children by this father, a girl and a boy named Michael. I will never know the girl, given up at birth, but I have hopes of one day meeting Michael.

We lived in many places, mostly near army bases. We moved alot and lived in some strange houses. One in Hollywood we thought was haunted. I'm told that Kathy had all these cats up in the attic that were very sick. I remember that we kept hearing noises in one of the walls. Now this house made alot of noises but this was something that we kept hearing over and over again. At some point Kathy broke out the wall to find out what was back there. It was hollow, being an old chimney for a fireplace that I guess we did not know was there. Maybe one of the cats made it's way into the chimney, I don't know. I know that we as kids were always affraid at night and many nights had to be given crosses made out of popcickle sticks before we would go to sleep. I was always amazed that the crosses were gone when we awoke in the morning. It was like they had given themselves up to save us durring the night.

I remember going to Grandma's, it was a high point because it always seemed safe there. And there was a pool there. I remember Michelle and I competing in her full-length mirror in the bathroom to see who had the most lashings on our backs. I learned to swim at that house. They got tired of jumping in to save me when I would fall in so they would say, "Swim to my hand."

I am now in the process of getting this house ready to be sold. Joan died about 12 years ago and as I said Joe died in March of 2004. There are alot of memories there in this house and I would like to se it stay the way it was. But it is already different and it really would just not be the same so it does not matter if it is sold anymore. I watched as the door with the mirror on it was taken out. I am working on the shower where Michelle and I were hiding one day from naptime and I was hanging on the soapdish, it came off the wall and I hit my head causing a scar that I have to this day. There is a wall in the master bedroom that has some leters I wrote when I was about 14 years old before dad patched the hole. I had a fear that the memories would be gone if the house was gone but I know that they will be with me. I gaurd my memories because of the memory loss I went through from the treatments at a hospital. But I am not going to have any more of those treatments, my memories will stay with me and even if they do leave me due to old age or what have you, I will have them back I'm sure in the end of this life.

Around 1972 we were given up by Kathy and placed in foster care. I always thought that I was 6 years old in foster care but I do know that we were with Kathy in 1971 when the earthquake hit. Only now writing this do I see that I must have been older in foster care. Michael and I were placed together in the Manns household. I don't know how long I was there or how long Michael was there (if he left before I or after). It was in this house that I was sexually abused by Mr. Manns. I do not know if it was done to Michael or not. I will not publish the details of the abuse at this time, there just is no need for anything like that to be said here.

At some point it was found that either there was a "provision" or a "request" that Michelle and I were to be placed together. I have thoughts on this that I will come back to later. Michelle was at the time being fostered by the Wilcox family. I was moved in with them. I remember a bit more about this time compared to the Manns' house, maybe because of age or just because I put alot of what happened away somewhere so it would not hurt as much.

The Wilcox family was a very hard place for both of us. They were very abusive, both physically, verbally, and sexually. I remember that we all lived in a trailer and we were treated badly. I knew that they did not like us and they had an older daughter that also seemed to hate us. Again I don't know how long we were there but it did seem longer than the time I was with the Manns'.

We were "saved" from these people by the Jones'. They planned to adopt both of us. Now these were good people, I have not known this kind of treatment and I was pretty damaged by the time they brought me into their home. They had a nice house with horses and they taught me how to ride and to take care of the horses. I had my first taste of what a father is like in Mr. Jones. There were times that I could see that he did not understand me and I felt that he was frustrated with me. But I do not remember him ever losing his temper with me. I remember him taking Michelle and I to a lake and teaching us to waterski. I was not able to stand up and he tried time after time to teach me. He gave up and Michelle then tried. On her second try she was up and doing it. I don't remember how I felt except the frustration of Mr. Jones with me. Afterward we got to ride around in a tube pulled behind the boat, this was the most fun I remember having on water. It was the driver's job to try to run you over the wake and cause you to fall off. It was alot of fun.

There are other things that I remember that I find very shameful which I'm not ready to talk about that happened while I was there. I've always felt that it was because of these things that I was given back to the "system" though Michelle was kept. But I have made this place to write about the things I remember. I remember meeting a man and being molested by him over a period of weeks. I would go to a nearby park and meet him and he would do things to me and to himself. One day I went to meet him and he did not show up. He stopped coming and I eventually stopped going to the park looking for him. I don't know if anyone found out about what I was doing. There was also some other things but I'm not ready yet to talk about them.

While we had been in the foster system and at the Jones', the "M"s had been fighting to get custody of Michelle and I. The Jones home was only a mile or so from the "M" home that I had known as my grandparent's. One day I had run away from the Jones' home and just started walking. I soon began to recognize landmarks and soon found my way to the "M" house. I climbed over the back wall of the property, a yard known as the dirt yard, and was , I don't know, playing around back there. One of my uncles came out and saw me and knew who I was. Here these people were fighting the courts and the birth mother to locate me-without any luck at all-and I'm in their backyard one day. I was brought into the house, surrounded by people that I knew but was not sure about, being asked questions. "Where have you been?" "Where are you living?" "Where are your sister and brother?" You get the idea. But Mr. Jones knew where the "M"s lived, and he saw my bike in front of the house when he went there looking for me. I was not there long before he came to the door. I don't know what was said between these grown ups. I know that I was asked questions by Mr. Jones: "Did you tell them where you live?" or even: "Did you tell them your name?" I know that I lied to him and told him that I did not tell them where we lived.

Soon after I remember Joe "M" sitting in his car out in front of the Jones house watching for me or Michelle. There was a confrontation. Police were threatened but I don't know if they were called. But now that I think about it, I think Joan said something to me years later about a restraining order. She may have been referring to Kathy though. Michelle told me that she remembers Joan out in front of the house. I think that there may have been alot going on between the two families after my little walk that we don't know about.

The time came when I was given back to the system as I said. I was placed in an orphanage called Hathaway Home for Children. It was a good time as I remember it. It was in the foothills of the valley, the place was a nice place. I was about 8 and the place was set up as follows: There was a main building that also had a special unit for children with mental or medical problems. Down the hill was a circle with buildings around it. These were the cottages 1-10. Each cottage held six children and we were kept together by ages. I was in my own room in cottage 7. I remember not getting into alot of trouble as I did everywhere else I was. The only thing that does really stand out was a time when a friend (Tom?) and I had found some light bulbs and were breaking them on the side of the cottage. I ended up cutting myself, requirring six stitches on my right hand. One day I saw Joan and I think a couple of days later I was moving in with the "M"s. I have a picture of Joan wearing a shirt that I think is the same shirt she wore when the day I saw her there.

I moved into the "M" house, a place I had known as a younger child as a safe place to "lick my wounds" and have fun. Joan was the mother I had never known, she was pretty much done with the whole raising kids thing but she did what she could from her bed. Joe was a working man, I did not see him durring the week. He was gone when I got up in the morning and did not come home until after I was in bed at night. On weekends I did see him, but mainly he was dealing with whatever wrong things I had done durring the week. I was pretty well damaged and acted out in many ways. Joe just could not understand my behavour. He was not one to punish, I discovered punishment was not something any of the "M"s were very good at. I was running free. Joe would get so mad that there were a couple of times that he did strike me. But this was not what I was used to, I was raised on constant abuse and this was different. I remember finding a hand gun in my brother's things one day, shooting it in the backyard (thankfully not hitting any of my friends) but not being able to get it back without my brother knowing I had taken it. He took me to dad but dad said, "He's not my kid." So my brother just threw me into the pool as punishment.

I had alot of trouble in school, I did not last long in any school I was in. I went to many private schools, my record was two weeks before I was kicked out for fighting or other forms of acting out. Public school said that they would not have me unless I was medicated and Joan said she would never put her son on drugs. One school used paddling as a form of punishment, that did not go over too well with me. They had to fight me, hold me, and subdue me to paddle me. It tired them before it tired me. Joe was paying alot of money for these schools, they were very high end. It was never my studies, I was an "A" student if I was to do any work in the school at all. I was in High School before I got my first "C", it was the point that I had said "I don't care anymore." In nineth grade, I was allowed to enter public school again. It was the last semester of jr. high and I did it with all "A"s and no trouble. The acting out seemed to stop when I started smoking pot, at least that is what it looked like. I stayed to myself, did the work, and everything was fine.

I want to add this: I used to chew lead that I found around in the garrage, I don't know if it did any lasting damage to me but I never really had any problems that I know of from doing it, besides the nasty taste and metal looking teeth when I had done it too much. Just a strange thing that I remembered.

In High School at some point things changed for me. Drugs became more important than studies and I just lost interest. I found others that did what I did. These friends were the first friends that I had besides the friend in the orphanage. I was able to get money by stealing from my brothers and sisters and parents so I had money for pot and beer. One of my friends I really liked, his name is Paul. He was not like me or the others in that he did not seem to be always doing as much as we did. And he was not as stupid. He was in a band and has alot of talent. He and I got a place together at a later time but that did not go well, my fault. He moved to Texas and in the last few years I've lost him altogether. The links I have and his email on other pages are all dead. I keep hoping that I will find him but it is not easy to find someone without putting up some money first.

I started with swim team but was told by the coach that unless I quit smoking I would never get a better time. I quit and took up ROTC. I was going to be a Officer. But even that was going to fall by the wayside as I followed the drug cycle. Soon I was getting into trouble with the law, a far cry for the common thefts that I was doing daily to the "M" family. I ended up dropping out of High School all together at some point. I went to work at some small jobs to pay for my beer and pot.

I did more stealing and more crimes and more drugs and what started as an arrested childhood became adulthood. My mind had not grown but now I was to be tried as an adult.

This ends the timeline for my childhood. I will be adding to this but it will be in this content.

Now I want to talk about some of the things that are written above. One of the things that I think about often is the reason(s) my sister and I were meant to be together. I think that the reason there was a written "order" for this is because of the way that we watched out for each other. Kathy saw this and knew that we needed to be together. Michelle has said that I was her "protector" of sorts. I don't know about that. I was more trouble than I was protector. But she did say that I would draw the attention away from her by the things I would do. They were busy dealing with me. I would like to think that I had such a noble thing in mind as I got into trouble and brought the abuse onto myself. That would be real cool. I just don't know. Doesn't sound like me. But there is another reason that I think we were meant to be together. I grew up feeling incomplete without my sister. There was a big part of me that was "taken away from me". It left me confused about alot of things that I think would have been known to me as I grew up with my sister. I'm not talking about a small part either, I'm talking about half. I really don't know how to explain it, I've never tried to before to anyone. A Major part of ME was missing and I grew up in a lost way, trying to find my way in the dark because of what was missing. I've never said anything about this to Michelle, there just would not be any point to it now. I did grow up, without the missing part of ME. And I am now whole and complete. But I know things would have been diferent in my childhood...

But I cannot get into that kind of thinking. I will always have regrets. I cannot go back. I am here now and this is where I am. I am so fortunate to have her in my life now. I still want to be her big brother, something I'm not sure I can do. I can be her brother, her friend, and a part of her life. I can also be uncle Jack to her kids, that is something really cool. I have alot today, and for that I am very thankful.