The Face of a Murderer

Harley Spencer II, Previously known as Eugene Columbaro  convicted of murdering Adam Clark. 

Adam Clark,  killed at age 6 1/2 years

It's time to get real. As in, sometimes there really are people in our lives who do the worst possible things.  It is terrible when the bad guys are in your life as a child because kids don't get to vote on who their parents choose spend time with.

I wrote about Eugene Columbaro in my book, explaining that my adopted sister and I testified at his first trial for his defense. That only happened because once again, as minors, no one asked us our vote on whether we thought he was a murderer or not. We were asked questions on the stand, we answered them. That is the way our justice system works.

Thankfully, the original detective involved in the case didn't let it go and 20 years later  he was able to find new evidence that proved Eugene did kill Adam.

To read more about this sad story, check out

a website created by Adam's older sister after his death.

http://www.angelfire.com/az/rememberadam/

For another perspective, Adam's mother wrote her own website at

http://www.fryedmarbles.comhttp://www.fryedmarbles.com

I have my own thoughts on this madness. Unfortunately, Eugene Colombaro was not the only person my adoptive parents had in our lives that did damage, some even closer to home than Adam's death.

 What I learned from growing up surrounded by seriously messed up adults, is that it is ok to have problems. It is fine to struggle and feel broken. That is part of the human condition. It is not ok to inflict your pain on others.

Adults first responsibility is to protect the children. Period.

Literary Inkings

This super popular book blogger, Casee Marie Clow, wrote a serious review about "Ezra and Hadassah: A Portrait of American Royalty" on her blog, literaryinklings.com

Tears. I read her review and I was bawling like a baby by the end, which is ridiculous because I Wrote the Dang Book! If anyone should be able to handle a review, it should be me. I just didn't expect such an in-depth, she got it, she really, really got it, kind of post.

You should read her review. It might make you cry in a happy, life-is-good sort of way, just like I did. And I don't know about you, but I always feel better after a good old-fashioned cry.

http://literaryinklings.com/2014/05/book-review-ezra-and-hadassah-by-heather-young/

Friends Make All the Difference



Left to Right: Me (who couldn't manage to keep quiet long enough to take this picture) Leslie, and Stephanie

Heather's high school graduation with Tom

I remember reading once that the biggest predictor if a kid was going to successful in life (measured by graduating high school, getting a job and being happy in relationships),  was if by the time the child was in 6th grade, they had a close friend who was a good influence.

 

Interesting.

 

It wasn't about standardized test scores, or having cool technology in the classroom, or even if there was a lot of homework. It was all about having a peer who liked them and made them feel good about themselves.

 

As you all know, I was very lucky in the friend department. First I had Leslie, who was my best girlfriend from 3rd grade until my adoptive family moved away at the end of my 6th grade year. We kept in contact through letters and the occasional cassette tape recordings even after I moved.

In 8th grade I met my next best friend, Stephanie, in Phys. Ed. class. We were in the same P. E. class again our freshman year of high school. Bouncing basketballs together kept our connection strong while we went through the trauma of transitioning from Jr. high school to Sr. high school. Usually that is the time when you dump all your "babyish" friends in hopes of making friends with the cool older kids. We stayed friends all through high school, which is a minor miracle.

 

Then there was Tom. I don't know if a boyfriend counts as a good influence/best friend, but in terms of helping me avoid the pitfalls of eating disorders, sexual promiscuity, addictions and feeling bad about my hair, he was aces. Every girl should be so lucky to have a boy who really was a friend.

 

So don't freak out about your kids grades (as long as they are reasonably performing) or if they don't do well on standardized tests. Instead, spend your energies encouraging your child to find that one special friend they can count on to help pull them through the rough days of adolescence. In my case, it took three close friends, my friend's parents, a wider circle of  a good kids, teachers and adult mentors to influence me to stay on the straight and narrow when it would have been so, so easy to jump ship into a pool of sharks.

 

I consider myself very lucky to have survived the trip.

 

 

 

 







A Love Letter to Cheyenne, Wyoming

A Love Letter to Cheyenne, Wyoming

Dear Cheyenne,

I am writing to say thank you for taking good care of my big brother, Rex Spencer. Before coming to you, Rex had a hard life. He struggled with developmental delays that kept him functioning on a 3^rd grade level. Childhood was brutal, he was abused and neglected in both our foster home and adopted home. He had been on and off homeless, trying to find his way in a world that made no sense to him. He came to you the same way others do, hitch-hiking into town from I-80.

When Rex arrived at your city limits, he was directed to the local homeless shelter. That’s where for the first time in his 28 years, he found people who knew how to help him. He was sent to a lawyer who assisted him in finishing his application for Social Security disability benefits, something impossible for him to do on his own because he couldn’t read or write well enough to fill out the paperwork. Rex was assigned a state case manager and over time, got a clean, safe apartment.  His case manager was named Scott. Since Rex didn’t drive, Scott took him shopping at the grocery store and encouraged him to buy nutritious food, not just potato chips and hot dogs. Scott help Rex pay his bills and enrolled him in life classes at the community college.

The next order of business for Rex was to attend church. He was raised Mormon and he wanted to stay active in that faith, even though it hadn’t always been the most welcoming of places for him. He found his local congregation and once again, he discovered a community of people willing to help him. They encircled him with friendship and gave him assignments that made him feel fully included.

Rex served at his church and at his low-income apartment complex. He delighted in carrying his elderly neighbor’s groceries and trash at Shoshoni Manor Apartments. Between his apartment building, his church and the locals he befriended on the street, Rex created a community that he loved.

Not everything was perfect in Cheyenne for Rex. Like all real life relationships, some days were difficult. Rex was almost killed by two men in a random act of violence. After three days in the intensive care unit at Cheyenne Regional Medical Center, Rex was able to give the police a description of who tried to cave in his head with a stolen cement lawn statue. The Cheyenne police found the perpetrators and they confessed their crime against my brother. They said they were planning to rob a pizza delivery man, but they couldn’t find one, so they settled on Rex.  He was left with permanent damage to his hearing and vision from the assault.

After five happy years living in Cheyenne, Rex was diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor. He moved with me and my family to Colorado. He didn’t want to leave you. He begged to stay in his apartment because he was worried about not being there to help his neighbors. We reassured him that everyone would be taken care of. In the end, my husband and I had to agree to keep his apartment in case he was needed back at his home.

When his final decisions had to be made, Rex requested to be buried in Cheyenne. He wanted to be at home. Thank you for making his years in your midst the best he ever had. He loved you very much and I will always be grateful to you for your kindness and compassion for my brother. He was lucky to have you as his family.

Sincerely,

Heather Young

50th Wedding Anniversary Countdown

My mother Claudia, told me she wrote her mother, Lennis, an eight page, single-spaced letter. I was happy because if Lennis doesn't get a letter from Claudia for a while, she calls me to find out if Claudia or Ralph have died. It is perfectly logical when you are in your 90's, to assume your 69 year-old daughter is dead if you haven't heard from her, right?

I asked Claudia what she wrote about that took eight pages, single-spaced. She told me she wrote about the 50th wedding anniversary party that she recently attended telepathically on her home planet, La Mordia. It was a party worthy of royalty, which of course, we are on La Mordia. That is why it took 8 pages, single-spaced to describe the activities and gifts that were given to celebrate our relatives 50th wedding anniversary.

Since Lennis isn't Claudia's real mother, who lives on La Mordia,  but merely her earthly foster-type mother, a place holder until we all return to our royal places at our true home, she ought to really enjoy getting that letter.

When Claudia was diagnosed with schizophrenia as a teenager and then legally changed her name from Janet to Claudia, my grandma Lennis began to fight an uphill battle. She has tried for over 60 years to get Claudia to answer to her birth name, Janet. She refuses to accept that her daughter Janet will not be coming back to her. My conversations with Lennis over the years have been heartbreaking at times, listening to her struggle with a reality she doesn't want. Mental illness doesn't just affect the person afflicted with it, it also changes the lives of everyone else around the person.

Most of the time, it is hysterically funny in a dark, pitch-black humor sort of way. Like this 50th wedding anniversary party. Ralph and Claudia will be celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary this coming July. For an average couple, the 50th is a big deal. For my unusual parents, this is an over-the-top event that Claudia is dreaming big about.

The first time Claudia told me about her telepathic visit to La Mordia for the anniversary party, she rambled off a list of wedding gifts that would put an episode of the game show "The Price is Right" to shame. Appliances! Trips! Fancy clothes! Cars! and best of all, delivered in a reverential hush, was the last and biggest gift of all: matching Hovercrafts. I asked, "Hovercrafts? Are those even for real? I don't know that those even exist."
Claudia sighed and said, "Yes, on La Mordia everyone has them. They drive them on the road, fly them in the air, and ride them like a boat on water."
"Huh.Who would have guessed. Of course, we all know La Mordia is a much more advanced planet than earth," I replied, wondering what kind of wedding anniversary party Claudia is expecting I am going to pay for. I was thinking more along the lines of crepe paper streamers in their nursing home dining hall and a cake, not matching Hovercrafts.

After a long discussion about the earthly impracticality of imaginary matching, fully-functioning Hovercrafts, including the fact Ralph and Claudia no longer drive and that the nursing home has no covered parking for Hovercrafts, Claudia was content with letting that idea go.

We only have 4 months left before their 50th anniversary. Heaven help me.

Let's Talk!

I did a podcast (radio) interview about Ezra and Hadassah: A Portrait of American Royalty on the site The Cultural Hall.

  http://www.theculturalhallpodcast.com/2014/04/heather-young-ep-124-the-cultural-hall/.

It is a Mormon-centered radio show, so the conversation might seem confusing to someone who is not familiar with the Mormon faith. On the other hand, God is God and love is love, no matter which particular version you follow.

Check it out, you will find it an interesting listen.

Everyone Should Have a Mr. Gross

Mr. Gross- Librarian at  Desert Sands Jr. High 1980

Mr Gross, Heather, Rob and Carol at wedding reception - 1987

Were you lucky enough to have a special teacher, neighbor, grandparent, or trusted adult you could turn to when you were young? My person was Mr. Gross. He was the librarian at my jr. high school. I didn't go to the library to read books, although he had plenty of those. I went to talk with him. He was the encouraging adult who took my problems seriously and listened while I prattled on about nothing. I wasn't the only kid he made feel important. He had a passel of kids who surrounded his cluttered desk, ready to talk about whatever the hot topic of the day was. 

He was not only my person for the one school year I attended Desert Sands Jr. High, he stayed my person all through high school. I called him from the high school pay phones on my lunch hour and I occasionally skipped my lunch period altogether to walk the mile to the jr. high to visit for 20 minutes before I had to turn around and walk back to the high school. 

When you are lucky enough to find an adult who is willing to listen, counsel and be your cheerleader, it is hard to let them go. So I didn't. He was there on my wedding day, he sent me congratulation cards when I had my babies. He cried when I called him long-distance, homesick and hurting. I kept Mr. Gross in my circle of Important People. 

 He and his wife Carol are still there, even as many other people have come and gone over the years. I won't tell you his age, but I can tell you he was my current age when he met me as a miserable teenager looking for an adult who cared. 

He has long retired from his beloved library and is dealing with the physical frailties of life. It makes me sad to think that someday I won't be able to pick the phone and hear his cheerful voice or read an encouraging email from him. No one writes better emails than Mr. Gross. 

He is still my biggest fan and I still adore his every word.  I pray all of us will have a Mr. Gross in our life and more importantly, that we will find the kid who needs us to be their person. I am so, so blessed Mr. Gross was mine.