My mother was not supposed to keep me as a new born baby, her first husband had died and she was raising her three children alone and going through a very difficult time financially. Cyrus, one of her brother – in – laws whose wife had died, offered to marry her and raise his brother’s children. She turned down his offer because she was afraid of his anger and his drinking habits and she decided to leave her children temporarily, with her parents and she was going to move to Flint, Michigan and live with two sisters, who offered to give her free room and board and help her find employment.
Cyrus was so angry at her refusal to marry him and warned her that if she lost his brothers kids, he would hunt her down and kill her. Her plan was to get established in Flint and then go back and get her children and start her life with her children all over again in Flint. She was able to get a job and things were working out and she started going out with a man from work named Maury Blair and after a period of time, found out she was pregnant and carrying me, his baby.
She decided to leave Flint and come back home and never told Maury Blair she was carrying his baby.
When she arrived home in Paris, Ontario the word spread pretty fast that she was pregnant and Cyrus heard and wanted another meeting with her. He offered her one more chance to marry him with one stipulation, get rid of that baby, I am not raising it! In her desperation mom agreed to let me go. Where? I don’t know, but she changed her mind after the wedding and brought me as a little baby into their home.
My oldest brother once told me how he remembers the very first day I was in the home, I was just lying on a blanket in the living room and he was sitting beside me. He said he thought it was neat that he had a new little brother and his name was Maury. Suddenly the door opened and in came his uncle Cyrus, who was now his new dad and when he saw me on the floor, my brother said he broke into a rage, cursing and yelling, “what’s that black bastard doing in my house.” (That was the term he chose to call me all through my child hood, because of my dark hair and completion.) He then walked over and kicked me against the wall and went looking for my mother in a rage. My brother said, I had stopped breathing and he thought I was dead and he picked me up and I started to cry and he said he rocked me back and forth and said, “Maury, it’s not going to be good for you to live in our house, my new dad hates you already.” That was my, “kick off”, to the game of life that would have no time outs, or half-time breaks. This would go on for the next thirteen years, I was unwanted, despised and abused, but God had plans for my seemingly hopeless life.
You can e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org I would be glad to hear from you. MORE TO COME!