I Would Find a Girl Walking (24 page)

Read I Would Find a Girl Walking Online

Authors: Diana Montane,Kathy Kelly

August 24, 1985
 
Dear Kathy.
 
Was very happy to receive your letter Friday. Glad you got the letters I wrote you. You have a good idea about not sending my letters to your office. Best be safe, and sound, than have a lot of talk in the office. That is why it would be a good idea to try and get on my visiting list. You won’t have to worry about losing any time from work. But that is up to you Kathy.
Sure hope you are enjoying yourself on weekends, cause all I have is my stereo and t.v. to help pass the time. I am not complaining, but I miss my freedom. At least I don’t have to listen to my father all the time.
Forgive me for asking “what was in it for me.” I want people to see the real Jerry, and what he went through growing up, and what happened to him, and where he is now. With your help, Kathy, we won’t leave any stone unturned, OK?
Now for the questions you asked.
I can remember my parents telling me one day, I was adopted, but not the year. It didn’t register until one day when I was in high school. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Why would my real mother and father put me up for adoption? Did I do something wrong when I was a baby or what? Plenty of questions like that were running around my head. I would sit and look at my fathers (adopted) picture, and it would look like me. I even had thoughts that my father’s first wife was my real mother, and he was my real father. Reason for that is, I look to much like my father now. Everyone has said “that you can tell, that is father and son.” If you look carefully, why else would my father ignore me while growing up? It brings into the pictures of being “unadoptable” the doctors told my mother at 13 mths of age. This makes me wonder, if that was why they frowned upon all of the girls I dated. I still have my doubts about my father being my real father. Sure, they try to match you up real good, but, not like my father and I. We have too many things in common. I also found out from Don, that I was the baby of 5. One was “stillborn, one was born blue,” and three of us were okay. That made me wonder why my parents didn’t want my other brothers or sisters. Besides, finding out that I was “unadoptable” really hurt me. My parents kept that, and the fact that 2 others of mine were out there. This was pointed out to me in the county jail. If my parents knew this, why did they want me to begin with, and spend so much time getting legal papers, and doctors to say “go ahead and adopt him.” Why didn’t
they just put me back in the agency for someone else? That is the question. And it probably won’t be answered.
See, my mother was married before also, and can’t have any children. So, that brings up the fact I was the first one to come along that my mother liked. So, she got her doctors, and supervisor, to go along with the adoption, cause she was a registered nurse at the time.
Also, it brings up why they never told me about any of this. They were probably afraid that I might just want to go looking for the others and if they told me I was “unadoptable,” I might do something. Sure, that crossed my mind, but I would always stop and say. “Why do I want to hurt my parents?” So, I never pursued it any.
But, what has me wondering is why my parents never let me run with the other kids. Probably, because of the label that was put on me, by the doctors. Besides having motor problems too. They thought I wouldn’t fit in with them. So, they got me interested in music, playing the piano, violin, clarinet, guitar and finally the organ. Plus I loved music (records). I was in the Marching Band in Junior High and High School. They always kept me sheltered till I got in my car. Then, it was all new to me from then on. I could go places by myself or with one of the girls I went with. But, I even had a curfew. Even after I graduated from High School. They stopped my curfew when I got married, cause I wasn’t living at their home.
Everything I had was considered theirs. Even my cars had liens on them. They never [gave] me a chance at anything. It was always what they wanted me to do. If I wanted to take my girlfriends to the shore (N.J.) I had to have their parents talk to mine, and confirm it. Even after I got divorced, my parents took control again. I took care of two houses for my parents, and never once, could I have any friends over. That is why I spent my Friday and Saturday nights at the Skating Rinks. Cause I enjoyed myself and was around people that enjoyed having me there. All of this stems from my being “unadoptable.” there
. A//
of this stems from my being “unadoptable.”
You see, most people think, “Why is this guy roller skating and things like that.” He should be in bars, dancing, etc. But, they don’t realize I was making up for lost time.
Kathy, my life is very different from everyone else as you know. But, you don’t know what it’s like to be told what to do, and when you can do it. And you’re 25–28 years of age. The others that age are calling the shots for themselves. From what I have told you so far, I feel a little better. You are the first person I have been able to talk to about this. Don’t think I am trying to get even with my parents, or old girlfriends, or ex-wife, but I am telling you about the real Jerry, and what he went through growing up and what he was confronted with all the time.
I am telling you everything that happened from 13 months of age til I was arrested. When we get all of this completed, I can tell you what it is like to be locked up for the first time in my life.
Kathy, you can send me stamps in your letters if you like, or get a money order made out to me if you like. But they allow stamps to come in though.
Well, guess I’ll close for now, please write soon, and please take care of yourself for me. See you soon.
 
Respectfully, Jerry
August 27, 1985
 
Dear Kathy,
 
I thought I would start another letter to you. I sure hope you don’t mind. I hope I don’t bore you with my letters, but the people want to know about the real Jerry.
It’s funny, but I have always felt, I got the worst of everything growing up. What I mean is, my brother could do no wrong. If he did, I would pay the penalty. But, I loved him like a brother, even though we were both adopted. I would take him here and there if he wanted. Sure, we had our differences, but that’s normal though.
My brother thought I was crazy keeping my room clean, my car clean. He never did anything like that. He looked like a “rag-a-muffin. ” Always wearing holey jeans, leather jackets, etc. I would always have pressed pants, ironed shirts, wing tip shoes, etc. If we went out with the family, he would put on some good clothes, but it always rubbed me the wrong way. I knew my father wanted his boys to look good, and I would always do it, cause I was the oldest, and knew I would get balled out later. So, I always pacified my father that way.
You see, Kat, I learned more from my grandfather than my father. Plus, we did more together at home. My father always tried to play my grandfather’s role in Penn. I knew the way to do things, and he always wanted it his way. So, it would always end up in a big argument. Even to this day, it’s the same way. He knew I was a work horse, and always wanted to see me make a few dollars. So, he would pay me to do things like cutting the lawn, waxing the family car. But, if my brother wanted any money, he would give it to him with no questions asked. That would rub me the wrong way too.
Kathy, even when they came up Sunday, he had an attitude, cause he was missing one of his clubs he belongs to. All he does is pick, pick, pick and complain to me how he hates coming here. But, my mother is very concerned, and is always full of life, joking and telling me what is new at home, or where she has been, or what she is reading now.
You can probably see what I am talking about, by visualizing what I am saying. If you were to meet him, he would put a different attitude out. But, leave, and he is back to normal. He is used to handling salesmen 12 hours a day, and then taking his frustration out on me. That may be where I got my quick temper from. All fathers should keep their work in the office, and never bring it home. But, my father is an exception. He would always bring paperwork home, and never pay any attention to me or my brother.
But, if an argument started with family, and he would go into a rage because we were interrupting his train of thought. I don’t see how my mother has stayed married to him all this time.
Kathy, this is a portion that I thought would be of importance to you, for our project we are working on.
I will write more tomorrow, before I mail it tomorrow night.
August 28, 1985
 
Well, here I am again. Looks like a lousy day ahead. So I can write, read, and watch t.v.
Kat—I have a neighbor that thinks he is king. Wants to talk all the time, and is trying to play “the nut role.” If I get off track any, that is why, cause he calls me all the time.
You asked about Angela. Well, yes her parents forced her to have the abortion. She was the one that was retarded. You see, she was my first girlfriend. But my next girlfriend is whom I loved very much, and so she loved me the same way. If I stayed up north, I would be married, and have a family by now. If I haven’t mentioned anything about her, let me know please, and I will explain. You see, I don’t know the format you wish to portray of me and my girlfriends. But, I can say one thing, you look like a girl I knew at my church that was very cute, and I dated her a few times. You also look a little like my mother, Kat. If you’re are going to put pictures in, you might want a shot of me when I was little, and growing up. If so, let me know, and I will send you a few of each to pick from.
Kathy, what I would like to know is, “Why do people draw conclusions without looking at the person’s background?” This has always stayed with me, [and] I would like an answer.
Guess I’ll close for now, write when you get a chance.
Be careful where you go and hope to see you soon.
 
Respectfully, Jerry.
 
P.S. Kat, I just got your letter of Aug. 27. I will start working on your question tomorrow morning. I will rack my brain for that question.
As for you not going to try for my visiting list, I can understand. You do it the way you see fit.
It may take a while for me to formulate this next letter, so don’t worry Kat. I’m working on it.
 
See you later,
Jerry
How ironic! Speaking from experience he warned
me
to be careful about “where I go.” He also started calling me “Kat,” which no one except close family and friends has ever called me. It was his way of trying to ingratiate himself to me. It was also the technique called “forced teaming,” typical of con men, rapists, and serial killers as well as police officers appearing to be a friend, not an inquisitor.

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