Strip searches and torture chambers do not a marriage make

Life after Donny was going to be like sailing on smooth, tranquil waters. There would be no more drama in my life. I was free from the madness, finally.

Oh silly silly me.

The mind can play tricks on you if you let it. Not only was the drama not over, the fun was just about to get started.

I like to think of it as leaving the fun house and going right to the house of horrors.

Gary had liked me for some time now. He knew that I was being mistreated and hurt, befriended me and was really very kind to me about it. Although he wanted to go out me, he knew I had to make that decision on my own.

Once my relationship with Donny was over, my friendship with Gary just kept growing, but we didn’t date right away.

I dated here and there, but Tuesday nights were for just Gary and I. Gary’s house was the party house. He informed all of our friends that no one could come over or call on Tuesday evenings. That was our time to be together; not as a couple, just friends.

Looking back, I didn’t handle that very well at all. He was well aware that I wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship, but I lead him on by going there for our little “date” without even knowing.

Going through life with blinders on is not the way to go.

As it turns out, my first intimate encounter with Gary was before we started to date. (This would prove to be a pattern for me; never say no. We wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings now would we?)

I had gone to his house one early morning to watch the sunrise. Back to his house and one thing led to another, and there you go.

As it turns out, Gary was a virgin too. If I had thought about it then, I could have started a collection.

Virgin number two; bagged. Good God….

Needless to say, we did start to date soon after that. Once again, I thought I had found true love. Albeit, I was afraid of Gary in some ways, that didn’t deter me one bit.

Why afraid? What a loaded question. Where do I even begin to try to describe this man’s many sides and personalities?

On the one hand, Gary wrote beautiful poetry, and was quite the gentleman; always complimenting me when I wore something different or tried something new with my hair.

But, as you know, we all have two hands and Gary’s other hand was very dark. It’s hard to put into words how frightened you can be of someone and still be in love with them.

It wouldn’t be until much later in my life that I would learn that I had the power all along to speak up, to leave or to challenge behavior that was beyond inappropriate.

Once again I have to wonder if I was subjected to large doses of radiation or lead as a child. There had to be some reason why I acted like I had received an unwanted lobotomy.

This relationship was proving to be more challenging than the one I had just gotten out of. No thought on leaving though, that would have been just too easy.
Lacking confidence, being naive and trusting absolutely everyone comes with a very heavy price tag. Life isn’t so generous as to give you a pass every time you let your feelings rule out over all else; common sense being one of them. You pay till you learn.

I have always told a very different story on the outside as opposed to what was on the inside. Everything is always fine, couldn’t be better. I think I thought that if I had admitted to being so wrong and gullible, that would have labeled me a failure. Or worse yet, have people laugh at me.

When Gary started to talk about marriage, instead of being put off and really afraid, I was thrilled. I was finally going to be someone’s wife. What could be better? Once we were married, he would change. My love for him would change him.
Maybe if I had been a stronger, more confident woman I could have helped him deal with the demons that most certainly lurked somewhere in his soul. Sound overly dramatic and theatrical; maybe but they were there none the less.

That was not to be the case, if anything, he got worse.

Ladies, when looking for a potential husband, or just a boyfriend for that matter, I have come up with a few rules that I feel we all must follow, even though with my first husband, I did not.

Warning Signs to Look for:
1. If your fiancé/boyfriend gets so into a movie, like Billy Jack, including wearing the hat and clothes, and carrying the stick, you should start to worry, especially if this lasts more than a month. Not a good sign. I know it might seem harmless, but it isn’t. You will see why later on.
2. If your intended is extremely thoughtful and caring, and out of nowhere puts his fist through the wall and tells you it could just have easily been your head - That is a clue that we all need to understand.
3. He offers to “be there for you and protect and keep you safe” if you want to try acid. Red lights should be going off at this time. Drugs and safe do not go hand in hand.
4. Spends the evening of his bachelor party with a girl who has a long stem rose tattooed on her breast and he tells you all they did was talk. And he insists that she be invited to the wedding. Run!
5. Mood swings that would put my menopausal moments to shame.

I am sorry to say that I did not listen to any of those warnings. I was in love and no matter what anyone said, I was going to marry this man and live a long and happy life together. Did I say live? That point was iffy.

Reasons to seek the advice of a divorce lawyer ASAP or at the very least, get the hell out.

1. If your husband asks if he can sleep with your girl friend because her husband doesn’t treat her right and he wants to show him what he is missing; call your lawyer. (This is true, and believe it or not, I had to think about this one for over a minute before giving my answer)
2. Drives 75 miles per hour straight at the inlet and slams on the breaks just in time, lovingly looks at you and says, “Maybe next time”. For those of you who don’t know what an inlet is let me explain. An inlet is a narrow body of water that connects, in our case, the ocean to the river. Huge rocks on both sides keep the water in. If you crash over these rocks you will plunge into the fast-moving waters of the inlet and most likely die.
3. Brings a stripper home and actually sleeps with her in the living room while I am in the bedroom.
4. Quits his job and gets you one.
5. Hurls furniture around like a Frisbee.
6. Takes drugs like they are vitamins.
7. Wants to use you as a human torch.

It took so much more than the above to leave him.

And have I mentioned that Gary was one big dude. He was 6’1”, broad shoulders, about 215 pounds and very strong.

On any given day I would come out of work and there would be a red rose on the front seat of my car, just because he loved me. That same night, he could go off in a rage about what was on TV. I think that there must have been a chemical imbalance going on there, but at that time in my life, I just thought he was moody, or that I had caused it some how.

As I mentioned earlier, he would write the most beautiful poetry one minute and the next minute go into a road rage that would make even the toughest of tough need to change their Depends. Things like this didn’t happen in my house growing up. Was this normal? My parents fought, certainly, but they never threw things or ever touched the other in anger.

It didn’t really occur to me that when my boyfriend went nuts over something that it wasn’t my fault in some way. There is something in my body that I can only describe as the Pathetic Gene. I have several Genes like that in my body. There must be, for me to have been just plain ridiculous about how I looked at life and people. Couldn’t just be plain stupidity, could it?

We didn’t date long. He proposed to me on the beach with a ring that belonged to his mother. It was beautiful. I was thrilled. My parents were not.

When I told my parents they were less than enthusiastic. They thought I was too young and that Gary was too unstable, and quite frankly too scary for their taste. I assured them that that was not the case; he was a perfectly normal guy. I never could lie well.

I told my dad that Gary wanted to talk to him, and all my dad could say was, “What, to ask for my permission?” I was like, “Yes dad.” It’s funny. I didn’t realize it then, but the reason my dad was so shocked was that Gary was so unorthodox that the formality of asking for my hand in marriage was just so ridiculous. But, he came over and asked for my hand in marriage and my dad said yes. What were his choices? Say no and chance losing his daughter?

What my dad didn’t realize was that his opinion meant a great deal to me and that if he had said no, I would have been very upset, hysterical for awhile also, but I would not have married him. I had, and still do for that matter, have a great respect for my parents. They have never steered me wrong. I know that sometimes parents and children don’t see eye to eye, but with this, my parent’s point of view made sense. It wasn’t just parental authority gone amuck. They had very valid points as to why it would be a mistake for me, a girl of twenty and very immature, to marry this man

As it turns out, they didn’t stop the marriage and I didn’t have the strength to, so, there was going to be a wedding.

Planning the wedding was fun. Well, unless you factor in that none of my friends or family wanted this marriage. They didn’t hate my fiancé, but they were afraid of him. When you act very irrational, that happens, you make people afraid. But I assured them that all was well and that we would be fine. I could change him. Is that the most stupid comment you have ever heard? I could change him. It doesn’t happen, ever. Sure, people change over the course of a marriage, but that is the natural flow of life. You cannot change someone from whom they are into someone that you want, especially if they don’t want the change or worse yet, don’t think they need to.

Now, don’t get me wrong; I loved this guy. It was the temper that I didn’t like. You know, I don’t even know if it was just the temper. He was not rational. You never knew what would set him off, and he could turn on a dime. He could also be in a rage with a smile on his face. Now, that’s scary. Jack Nicholson “Shining” scary. Here’s Gary!!!!!

So, we started to plan the wedding. We would be getting married in my church with our closest friends in attendance. It would be the perfect day.

My parents were not happy at all, but, not wanting to lose their daughter, they did the best they could to accept this and decided if you can’t beat them join them. So, the wedding plans were underway. It helped that my mom and dad really liked Gary’s mom. She was a great lady. Gary’s dad had died before we hooked up. His mom moved from the Bronx, or was it Brooklyn, to their summer home in Point Pleasant.

There went the party house.

I had met his dad just once. This man scared the hell out of me. I am sure he was a great guy, but very intimidating. Gary had always said that although he loved his father very much, he really had feared him most of his life.

The wedding was set for November 1976. I was just 20 years old. I absolutely cannot remember the exact date, can you believe that? Amazing. Anyway, the wedding day had arrived. I woke up that morning very excited, but very nervous. More than you would think a bride should be. It wasn’t the “Oh my God I am so excited nerves”, but the kind of nervousness that you get when you know you are doing something wrong and you just don’t know what to do about it.

After a morning of preparing ourselves, we were getting ready to head on over to the church and I felt the first pangs of panic. I did not want to do this. I didn’t think that my legs would get me down the stairs, let alone out of the house and into the car.

My dad and I drove to the church, we exit the car and I start to cry. Not just watery, teary eyes, I mean sobbing, and I can’t stop. I wore very little makeup then and it’s a good thing; I would have looked like a raccoon if I had mascara on. This my friends, is another sign that you should not be there. I wanted to go home. I wanted to stay in my room and not come out. I just wanted to hide and forget the whole thing. I should have told my dad right then and there to take me home. But I didn’t. I didn’t want my father to be mad at me. He had tried to tell me not to marry this man, but I wouldn’t listen. I basically forced them to spend all this money on a reception; so how could I ask them to call of the wedding, look him in the face and admit that they had been right all along?

My whole family was in there, all my aunts and uncles and cousins. And my mom, what would my mom have said? I didn’t have the heart to do it, or the nerve. So, I marched in that church and got married.

Looking back, I should have had more faith in my parents. They loved me very much and would have just taken me home and that would have been that. My parents loved me very much and although they would have been upset about the money, they would have been relieved that I had finally come to my senses and realized that what I was doing was a huge mistake.

Didn’t happen that way.

I have to say that the reception was fun. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, my sisters seemed to be partying heartily, and my parents were actually trying to relax.

My husband and his friends, of course, went outside during dinner and got stoned. You’ve got to love it.

Thus, the marriage begins.

Now, when you don’t have a lot of money, deciding on where to go on your honeymoon is not too difficult. Not wanting to fly was another very important factor in the decision.

We waited until after we were married to decide exactly where we wanted to go. We knew that we would be driving, and we only had two weeks off from work.

The final decision……. Niagara Falls. Not such a good idea in November/December. Hey, we knew what we were doing. What a bunch of assholes we were.

I had never before, to my recollection driven through Buffalo NY. As luck would have it, we hit a blizzard. It was great. You simply could not see in front of the windshield, period. No visibility. Snowfall for the month of November that year was over 31 inches. It is not natural how much snow falls in Buffalo NY. Being from New Jersey, we were just not prepared. But guess what, my husband loved it, just another thrill to experience. I was told to loosen up and enjoy the ride. There were literally accidents happening all around us. I was sure we would be experiencing our deaths. This man was a nut. But I loved him and that was that.

Canada here we come!

I believe that we went through customs leaving NY, and entering Canada. I just don’t remember. I would assume we did, because I know for certainty that we did when we left Canada.

Well, the newlyweds checked into their hotel. It is on a hill and the view was beautiful. Now, how many of you have been in Canada in December? It is freezing and it snows a lot. Our van did not like the ice that covered the hill that we were on; so on the one night we decided to go to dinner dressed in our formal ware, we walked. I kid you not. I am in a floor length dress with heals; big fat clunky heals, but heals no less. There was snow and ice on the ground, it was freezing, and we are walking. We must have looked like the biggest bunch of buffoons around. Cold does not describe it.

We made it, unscathed but freezing.

It is much easier to walk to dinner than home from dinner. Drinks, full stomach, and there we go, trekking through the frozen tundra back to the Holiday Inn. It wasn’t that it was so far, but it was freezing outside with a sheet of ice and snow on everything. I am surprised we didn’t break our necks.

We spent our days going to every single wax museum that there was. Back in 1976 there were a lot them, or that’s how I remember it anyway. Very scary, bizarre and unsettling, to say the least. We saw every exhibit there was on murderers, torture chambers, witch hunts, etc. You name the horror, we saw it. No cafes or quaint pubs for us, no we wanted the gore. I had nightmares every night. It was ridiculous. No wonder I didn’t want sex. All I could think of was limbs being hacked off and women being murdered. Talk about romance.

Now, isn’t this the honeymoon of your dreams? I know you’re jealous.

One day we decided to go back to the NY side. There is a bridge and a sightseeing deck on the other side that we just had to experience.

Off we go. We went through customs in Canada and in NY. We were great. Young honeymooners. What could we be hiding?

God if I had known what was to transpire all too soon I would have sacrificed myself to the waterfall gods. It would have been quicker.

On the NY side there was a boardwalk path that you could follow to the edge so you could get a closer look at the tons of water flowing over the falls.

The spray of the falls is intense. Now, what does spray do when it is below zero degrees outside? Right, it freezes. This walk was so slippery. I am surprised that it was open to the public. We were the only people out there. I guess they assumed that no one would be foolish enough to venture out there. They had not met my husband. But, to experience life you must take risks as they say. The entire boardwalk was covered in ice. The branches on all of the trees had a good ¼ of ice on them. One slip and down you go. We were lucky to have gotten out of there alive. It was ridiculously dangerous. This adventure was the brainchild of a man who used to tie himself up to the railroad trestle, put weights in his clothes and walk along the bottom of the Manasquan River. Visibility, 2 inches, I am not kidding.

Mercifully, we made it back to Canada in one piece.

Now, before I got married, I was very sexually active. I am not bragging about this, merely making a point. Because I don’t think that we had sex during our honeymoon. This is another very large clue girls, especially if it is you that doesn’t want it. Something is wrong when the bride does not want sex.

A slut before marriage, a prude during marriage, I was every man’s dream.

Did I mention that I was probably the most immature, naive 20 year old in our town? I’ll bet you got that one all on your own though.

With the honeymoon is over and as we packed up our belongings and souvenirs that we bought for everyone, we headed off to start our new life together.

Customs in Canada was a breeze. We sailed right through; and why wouldn’t we, it wasn’t like we had anything to hide.

New York was an entirely different story.

A very nice customs official on the New York side asked us if we had anything to declare. Well, we had etched glasses for absolutely everyone in the family, and a gallon of milk. Does that count?
Have I mentioned we had a customized van? Red shag carpeting throughout, little refrigerator, bed and storage bin.

We were asked to step out of the van so they could do a routine search. I was taken inside so as not to be in the way. My husband stayed outside while they conducted the search.

I sat down and was asked some questions by a gentleman who seemed to think that I was hiding something. I guess that was his job because he certainly seemed to be looking for something. He went through my purse and found a medicine bottle with yellow and blue capsules. For anyone in 1976 who ever had a cold or the flu, you were prescribed erythromycin.

My dad would give us some to keep in the event we started to get sick.

If a customs official asks you what these pills are, if you are as innocent and stupid as I was, you are not going to remember the name. You are going to stutter and panic, thus making yourself look very guilty.

He took my antibiotics…

It is what happened next that is ingrained in my mind, and will be forever. My husband came in, surrounded by very official looking people, crying and in handcuffs. He kept saying how sorry he was and that they found “it”.

Now, what could “it” be? I had no idea. I knew my husband liked to indulge in pot smoking. Could it be a small amount that he forgot was in the van? Could it be a body of a scorned lover? Not so lucky. It was a gun with rounds of ammunition. His dad had been in the Army, and I believe it had been his. He had wanted to bring them to our home when we moved in together and I had said no. I did not want guns in our house. Silly me to believe that he listened. He had taken this one and hidden it in the van behind that beautiful red shag carpeting on the walls with all intentions of taking it out and putting it in our house.

Guess what, he forgot to take it out.

Needless to say, customs was not happy. They frown on arms passing through and into other countries. We were in big trouble, and I don’t’ even think I realized at the time just how much trouble we were in.

First, we were taken to two separate rooms and strip searched. Ladies, how many of you can say that you didn’t have sex with your husband on your honeymoon, but you got to get naked with two women? They looked in my ears for God’s sakes. It wasn’t fun. There I was, standing naked in a small room, two very tough looking women are examining me for hidden drugs and possibly an oozy stashed up my ass; and there are two men outside the door in the event that I tried to make a run for it.

Where the hell did they think I was going to run, naked and it being 20 below zero outside? Jesus Christ. I might have been stupid, but even I’m not that stupid.

I can hear the all points now. CALLING ALL CARS, CALLING ALL CARS, FUGITIVE IS A WOMAN, 5 FT. 7 INS, BLONDE, 130 LBS. NAKED WITH FROZEN BOOBS RUNNING DOWN THE FRIDGIDLY COLD STREETS OF NIAGARA FALLS NY.

Hey, if my boobs were frozen does that mean that they would be firm and not dragging on the ground?

I don’t think so.

When we were allowed to get dressed, I was told to remain seated where I had been, on a bench outside of an office. That office now contained my husband, and very official looking men. I don’t know how long he was in there when another gentleman appeared. He was, I believe, a District Attorney for the state of New York. From the little that they were telling me, we could have gone to Federal Prison for ten years. “Hi mom, I won’t’ be home for a while, serving time at Danbury”. I should have thrown myself over the falls after all.

Well it seems that they are still searching the van and they asked hubby if there is anything else hidden. It would be better if they were told about it before they find it.

Of course there was, under the back panel there is a box with rolling papers and some pot. This just gets better and better. I was starting to feel like Bonnie and Clyde.

I was finally called into “the room” with the District Attorney and the other Customs officials. I wasn’t in there very long, as I had absolutely nothing to offer. When you are as innocent and ignorant as I was, it is very obvious. No, I didn’t know about the gun, I knew he had it, but not that he had planned on taking it to our home (and killing me in my sleep no doubt). Yes I knew he smoked pot, but I had asked him to stop.

All I can say is that they were all very nice to me.

We must have looked pathetic. They eventually let us go that evening. We left the gun and the pot; paid $100.00 to get our van out of impound and went home.

I shudder to think where we would be today if that happened now. I don’t think they would have given us a slap on the wrist and let us go.

The honeymoon was over!