Saturday, January 01, 2005
Murder In Poway
I wasn't kidding when I said in another of my blogs that I have been flooded by images of my "home" town. Today I was searching on the internet for something relating to a fire we had back in the 60's there and then proceeded to search for information about a murder that took place there in 1967. I was brought to zodiac killer websites, and people apparently seeing if they can solve the zodiac killings. I just wanted to find out if they ever found the murderer. I just remember helicopters hovering overhead searching the very hills that I spent so much time playing in. My brother new this girl from school. It was a very big shock to our little community. The police were even going door to door checking shoe sizes of the men who lived in the area. We expressed grateful prayers and sighs of relief when we were told that my brother's shoes were too big. He wore a size 12. Years later my mother and my aunt Kay were talking about that murder and they both thought that their father, my grampa, could've done it. I wasn't really that shocked about the idea of that. My grandfather, forgive me, but I knew long before anyone told me, that my grandfather was a pedophile. Maybe the term is too strong, no? Anyway, I was the youngest child in our home and was left alone for many hours. Mother worked full time as a nurse, probably six days a week. My older brother and sister had lives of their own. So like I said I was alone alot. Thankfully the "Anderson's" lived across the street. They more or less watched out for me. Often my grandfather would come for a visit bringing his homemade mustard pickles. He was "very" old in my eyes, but now I realize he was in his late 50's early 60's. He was a big man with huge hands and a barrel chest. I alwalys greeted him with a smile though I was very wary of him. He'd come into our kitchen and sit down at the table and do a little chit chat with me. Invariably he always wanted me to sit on his lap and give him a kiss. I would try to do this, afterall he was my grandfather right, but I always felt icky, the way his eyes would look at me, he had one glass eye. His hands were so large that if he wanted to, he could grab me and not let go. The strange thing about his visits though was the fact that Mrs. Anderson always showed up to check on me when he was there. I didn't know until many years later why this was so. My mother knew about my father from her own experiences and feared for my safety. She had confided in Mrs. Anderson her worries and had asked her to come and check on me when he was there. This she did religiously, and saved me from who knows what. If only she could have been there all the other times I needed saving. But back to my story, my mother and my aunt both felt my grandfather was very capable of killing someone. My grandfather had 7 children with a very well mannered, quiet and stoic woman, my grandmother Anne. She was adored by all of her children, I don't know if any of them ever blamed her for what happened to them. It was a very different time back then, you couldn't just take the children and run to a women's shelter. There were no welfare programs available to help a woman on her own with 7 children. So she endured as did her sons and her daughters.
¶ 1/01/2005 10:09:00 AM
¶ 1/01/2005 10:09:00 AM
