I have no idea how long the four of us managed to stay alive with limited resources and sporadic adult supervision.  A few months? Several months? Since even Genius Brother was too young to have a sense of passing time, he isn’t sure either.

Did anyone know we were being left to fend for ourselves? Was our father completely unaware of our woeful living conditions? Since he and our mother were separated at the time, he was living on the Air Force base nearby; it’s possible that he believed we were faring well. Was our mother’s family in contact with her often enough to know there might be lapses in our care? My guess is that both sides of the family were kept in the dark.

Completely unrelated side note:  Any time I heard that my dad had stayed on the base, I imagined him living in one of those Quonset hut barracks like Gomer Pyle did. Complete with his own Sergeant Carter.  

I suppose it’s impossible to be sure about who might have known the severity of our circumstances. Perhaps no one! Genius Brother took this as a challenge and decided he would try to keep us well-hidden so as to avoid discovery and possible separation of the siblings.

It worked. 

For a while.

My six-year-old Genius Brother knew he had to keep us fed. He scrounged up whatever milk he could find to make bottles for me (no one can fault him for not knowing cow’s milk is unsafe for babies under one year old), and when there was no milk to be found in the house, he filled my bottle with whatever liquid was available – which sometimes meant grapefruit juice. For an infant. Yes, basically liquid acid. Thank You, Lord, for Your help and protection!

My brother was wary of trying to cook on the stove, so at one point he attempted to feed us all raw hamburger meat. RAW MEAT. I appreciate him for trying; I really do. I can’t imagine that I ingested much of the grapefruit juice or the uncooked beef he served up, but I applaud his efforts. 😊

At some point, Genius Brother was ready to face the challenge of preparing a home-cooked meal. I’m guessing the recipe read something akin to “pour contents into pan, heat up.” But hey, he was six.  

Are you old enough to remember plastic kitchen curtains? Some of you are. What was the appeal? Maybe that they could be wiped down or washed easily? Well, that day, we discovered another use for those crinkly drapes. 

Kindling. 

Who knows why the kitchen curtains would be right next to the stove top, but there they were, and they immediately went up in flames as soon as my brother ventured into the world of (attempted) cooking.

Neighbors called the fire department, the kitchen blaze was extinguished, and my brother’s reign as leader of the four miniature musketeers came to an end. Not only were we discovered to be home alone at the time of the fire, but the neighbors who gathered in front of our house informed the authorities that our mother had not been seen for several days. Child Protective Services was several years off in the future, so the local police were contacted. I’m sure our neighborhood was abuzz as we were scooped up and whisked away in a squad car. Who knew our day would end with us making our television debut? Okay, yes, we were featured on the 10:00 news for child neglect and abandonment, so not exactly the claim to fame we would want.

Final stop: Lena Pope Home (that huge orphanage on the hill in west Fort Worth)

“He led me to a place of safety; He rescued me because He delights in me.”

Psalm 18:19