FOSTER CARE:
For the next couple years I bounced around from one foster home to another. Most of them just wanted me so that they could
have a live in sitter available and collect a check at the same time. One lady actually made me paint her house and then turned
me back in. The money they received was supposed to go towards providing me with things but rarely did I get anything besides
knowledge of what child labor laws were for and why they were important. I had a new social worker now too. Her name was Barbara
and she really didn't give a shit about me. Eventually I ran away and went back to Wyoming. My dad was in prison there again
for killing that boy.. so I thought... I went into a store and one of my dads ex-girlfriends Davita recognized me and turned
me into the police. While I was sitting in jail awaiting extradition, I decided I may as well go to church. I had been in
and out of jail so many times by now that I had already read the bible from cover to cover. So I figured what the hell. The
preacher/chaplin kept me after church and said he would like to adopt me... I said why don't you then. I didn't care anymore
what happend to me. He tried fighting the extradition but that didn't work. I was sent to a foster home back in Kansas again.
He fought red tape and 6 months later I arrived at his house along with my suitcase full of stuff. I was now his foster child.
He said he saw something special in me, but that faded rather quickly when he found out that I smoked. Although I never smoked
in the house out of respect, he didn't believe me. I was just happy to be back in Wyoming, then I ran into Brenda at school.
I said hello and she said how dare I talk to her. I didn't understand what her problem was. She said some really mean things
to me and walked away. By this time I had changed from being a nice young lady to being one that was on the defensive all
the time. What Brenda said really bothered me. I had known her since 3rd grade and we had never had a fight before. I told
the teacher I needed to go to the guidence counselor so I could get a pass. All I wanted to do was walk the halls and collect
my thoughts. Instead I ran into Brenda who apparently had the same idea. This time though it was a fight. We both dropped
our books and it got pretty vicious. I didn't even know why we were fighting in the first place, but I had so much anger inside
from everything else that had been going on in my life that I had no problem beating her senseless. She started to cry and
pulled her shirt up and she had horrible scars all over her. She said how dare you do this to me after what your dad did.
You are worse than he is. I never knew it was her he had almost killed. I wanted to hold my friend and tell her I didn't know
and that I was sorry but she had nothing but hatred for me. The school called my foster father who came and picked me up.
Everyone always assumed I knew... nobody ever told me. This is when I kind of lost it for a while. Then 3 months later he
took a position and moved us to Kansas! In Kansas I had a friend Brandi that lived at the end of the street we moved to, but
I was not allowed to talk to her because her mother was a bartender. I guess the thought never occured to him that we don't
live in a perfect world and that maybe tending bar was the only way she could support her kids as a single parent. The tention
built between us as I clearly did not fit into his Southern Baptist family ideals. One day we had an argument about my smoking
on the way to school, he again accused me of smoking in the house and I again said that I hadn't smoked in the house. The
argument erupted and I said something I should not have said. I told him that if he died tomorrow and went to hell I would
laugh on his grave. Not a good thing to blurt out to a preacher. Instead of him picking me up after school there was a van
waiting. They took me to Shawnee Mission Medical Center the Psych ward for an evaluation. The preacher met us there and said
I was a danger to myself and possibly others. Maybe I was. I don't know. At the moment nothing seemed clear to me. 
SHAWNEE
MISSION MEDICAL CENTER: KS: They asked me if I would swear that I would never kill myself and I refused to tell them what
they wanted to hear. I was tired of playing the game. I just wanted to be free and left alone. I didn't see a doctor of any
kind yet. I and all the other kids were placed on antidepressant drugs. In my case the drugs were so potent that I was having
to be pushed around in a wheelchair and was drulling all over the place. My father had once again been released from prison
and he came to visit me and told them that if they didn't move me someplace else he would burn the place down. They had been
waking me up each morning and taking 9 tubes of blood from me. 5 from one side and 4 from the other. I still have the scars.
After my two week stay they determined that I needed more elvaluating and sent me to the state hospital for an assessment.
TOPEKA
STATE HOSPITAL, KS: This time I at least knew it was only going to be 30 day stay. That was one thing that made me maintain
self control there. I once again had to share my room after a little while with someone else. They put her in my room because
they felt I was the only one who wouldn't loose it and kill the poor girl. Her name was Onita and every night she would awaken
and rock back and forth saying Topeka over and over and over again. It was crazy. It seemed to me like most of the people
were crazy in there. Then came my on going evaluation test. They took me into a room to wait for the doctor to come in. I
waited a while and in walked this woman who had a jewel in the middle of her forhead. She was obviously from another country
and spoke spuratic english so I immeadiately started laughing... I thought this is totally whack... some chic who can't speak
fluent english is going to determine if I am crazy or not. The lady had a jewel implated in her forehead for christ sake.
I thought let the fun begin. By now everything was a game to me. They showed me ink blots that would obvioulsy be a butterfly
but I being artistic in nature would describe something else hidden within the picture as if I were examining a piece of artwork.
lol I was having fun with this. I had to put pegs in holes, take pegs out of holes, move them left, right and diagonaly. I
was too smart for my own good by then and so I turned every question around. I showed that there was always more than one
possible solution. I was their worst nightmare I think. There was a two way mirror in the room and I knew others were watching.
I told her I knew about the mirror when I first walked in because I did the finger nail test. I asked her how she expected
me to trust her when she obviously didn't trust me. She had me draw pictures and because I drew a picture of a woman in a
football jersey with the letters 00 on the front. She said I had issues with female authority figures. I guess it had to be
that, it couldn't possibly be because I myself loved playing football back in the days when I was free. And at the time 0
was my lucky number. In the end I was deemed unfit to live in a family environment and sent to a group home. There was a long
wait to get in though so first I had to go to one last foster home.
THE MENDOZAS,
KS: I went to the Mendozas knowing it was only temporary. I arrived with my suitcase full of stuff. The next morning they
took me shopping for some clothes. I got new pajamas and 5 new outfits, even socks and underwear. None of my other foster
families had bought me anything. They treated me like a normal kid. Sure I had chores to do, and once in a while I would babysit,
but I had privleges like any other teenager too. I got to go to the movies and to friends homes. They didn't treat me like
a criminal. They treated me good. On my 16th birthday I woke up and the little girls had snuck into my room and decorated
the walls. Things were going so well that the Mendozas petitioned the court and asked if I could have a permanent place in
their home. I also wanted to stay with them, but my social worker (Barbara) advised against it because the mother was white
and the father was hispanic. We all cried the day I left. I got to keep the clothes they bought me and I even got to take
the fish I aquired which ended up dying on Barbaras desk. So off to the group home.
HARTS
Holistic Adolecence Rehabilitation Treatment Services, KS: Harts was a much nicer place then I imagined it would be. I was
pretty much able to keep to myself. I once again had my own room with the standard institutional furniture as before. It was
a co-ed group home but the sexes were on seperate wings. The average stay for most kids was about 6 months. I however had
to stay until my 18th birthday. Since I graduated high school early I was able to get a job at a Sonic where I was a skating
car hop. The staff didn't really have much to do with me, with the exception of Lola the cook. She and I were friends. I had
to go to counceling twice a week. For the first year I would just go into the office and sit quietly while Bobby did his paperwork.
I figured there really was no reason for me to talk as they had a file about 3 inches thick on me and thought they knew everything.
Then one Tuesday I walked into his office like normal and instead of doing his paperwork he slammed a book on the floor and
began yelling at me. He said "Dammit Angela why dont you talk to me" I don't know what tactic he was using but that somehow
broke through a barrior that I had put up years before. I began crying and told Bobby everything about all the rapes and the
places and the people and all of the other things nobody knew. Afterwards I felt as though a weight had been lifted from me.
It felt good to let go. Things went pretty well after that until 3 days before my 18th birthday. In order to get out I needed
a car and a place to go. I found an apartment, but now it was time to find a car. I went to Dale Sharp's and looked around
a bit and decided to test drive one of the cars. It was a Bonneville Braum. Once I got on the interstate the salesman pulled
out a gun and kidnapped me. I was so afraid that I froze and didn't show any tears. I played innocent and I believe that is
what saved my life. 2 1/2 days later he dropped me off at Harts under the assumption that I was agreeing to meet with him
again. He thought he had me convinced he was a modeling agent and wanted me to model wedding gowns. I went along with it out
of fear. When he dropped me off I left a completed job application in the car... he had all the information anyone would need
to find someone. I walked in and sat up in the office area for a while and once I felt composed enough I called downstairs
for a staff member. We called the police who took a statement and then I had to go to the hospital for all kinds of tests
and things. It was horrible. The worst was still to come though. The phone rang and I picked it up and it was him Walt Johnson.
All I could do was scream, and that was when he knew I had told. He said he would get me. The next day I moved into my own
place and was so paranoid that I called Harts just to have someone to talk too... but none of them had time for me. I truly
was alone in the world now because nobody was getting paid to take care of me. Walt Johnson went on to murder a girl he picked
up at the state hospital and was sent back to prison where he belonged. As it turned out they failed to do a background check
before hiring him and he was an escaped convict.
The point of this page is to let people know what is going on with the lost children in this country. Kids need to
have a voice and we need to listen to them. On a brighter note the director of the orphange was investigated after several
letters and lost her job. One foster father who was also a cop got sent to prison for sexual abuse and HARTS was shut down
shortly after I left. Nothing has changed at Shawnee Mission as I ran into a youth one day who had been there, we compared
the scars we had. She began to cry and I couldnt help but cry as well. This section is for the lost children... we are so
busy helping other countrys when our own children need to be heard. Anyone who lives their life in states custody and keeps
their mind in tact is in my eyes a success.
If you
yourself are amongst the lost children I have something to tell you. Never ever give up. Keep on telling and telling until
someone believes you. Don't ever for a moment think that your voice will never make a difference because you can make a difference.
They can strip you of everything but they can not take your thoughts away from you. Do what you have to in order to survive
but remember that this too shall pass... and it will pass. You will be free someday and when you are that alone will make
you happy. You are a valuable person and God never makes mistakes. I think that people like us are meant to be strong for
a reason and that is why we endure the things we do. You are not a failure and you are NOT alone even though you may feel
like it sometimes. I heard this story once about an angel... and it helps me to this day so I am going to share it with you.
There was a preacher and one Sunday he was late. His entire congregation had no idea where he was. He had never been late
before. After about 15 minutes of worrying the preacher showed up and went to the front of the church. He then told the congregation
that he was late because he had been talking to an angel and he had wonderful news for them. He told the poeple that the angel
had agreed to take away each persons biggest pain. All the people had to do was write it down on a slip of paper and place
it in a dish that was being passed around. The people were very excited. All of them began writing. There were no limits as
to what they could write. The dead could be risen, disease could be cured anything was possible. Eeveryone had their papers
in hand and ready to turn them in... when the preacher turned and said... "oh one more thing... If you put a piece of paper
in... you must be willing to take another one out". Meaning that you must be ready to take on the other persons biggest problem.
We all have problems some worse than others but there are people out there who are worse off than you. People are dying and
addicted to drugs. People have lost children. There are always people worse off.... do not forget that. Be Strong.
