Thursday, April 19, 2007
Mindspace 4/19/07

Thursday Throwback



As Promised, I am reposting the entry concerning my first marriage. This is the man I married and the father of my only child, I am going to respect the santity of that union and not get too deep into the meat of our relationship - but it was a pivital time of my life and a dividing line between the young adult I was when I met him and the grown woman I had to be on the other side.



How I met him was crazy like everything else. I had graduated and moved up North to Philly. My mom had gave up our apt. and moved in with a friend who rented rooms, so she could write and save money (all of us were up North by this time). I came home for Christmas break to hang out with my High School friends. She told me she had someone she wanted me to meet. She said that he was interested in Islam and that She said he could have me she thought I'd like to meet him and had told him all about me. I had a 'friend' in Philly, and was looking forward to getting to know him better. Ok - - sigh - - I was standing in the living room in my PJ's having a SLEEPOVER, there were about 6 of us, eating fried chicken and just loud as hell. The door opened and I looked up and there stood EL DEBARGE DRESSED LIKE RUN DMC!! He had the deepest voice I had ever heard in my life. I introduced myself and my friends and then I realized I knew him! He was on TV all the time on the local dance show. He also was a member of the International Wrecking Crew - they broke dance around town. I started practicing my new last name right in that living room, lol.

How He Got It - ok fast forward a bit, he had left morehouse and was living in NY again. I was in Philly still doing my thing. We had been talking awhile and quite frankly he was taking too long. I did't know what the deal was, but I really just one day said "It's time to have sex and he's the one" I planned it all out. Put myself on birth control pills a month in advance and everything. Let him know I was coming up the way to hang out with him. The day came and I told the folks I had a term paper and would be gone all day, hopped on the train and went to NYC.

It was the most disappointing single moment of my young life, lol lol. It was so mechanical, so medicinal - NOTHING like I had been reading in my penthouse stories!! I was raring to get buck wild! Now it did last longer than I expected, lol I remember jumping out the bed to see if my hips had spread, lol lol. I wanted to do it again and again and he was like "he might hurt me" WTF?! It didn't hurt (which I came to find out later on in life, I was built for size but I digress, lol) I remmber later on that evening sitting on the train thinking - ok, this has got to get better.


How He Married Me was well we eloped. I moved in with him when I was 19 1/2, we got married that following year. One day he was just like, let's do this. We had a fully furnished rent controlled apartment in Manhattan! A motorcycle and we both worked. At first we dabbled with the thought of a 'wedding' decided to marry in Brooklyn so at least it would be in another borough, lol. We both took 1/2 days off from work and went to the court house. We had exactly 8 pictures of our wedding, lol. I stood in the square crying as I told my mom on the phone we eloped - she said and I quote "the minute you moved in with him, you were married in my eyes" Alrightyyyy then! We went back to work. Our honeymoon came a month later when we took the bus from NY to FLORIDA!! That bus ticket was as thick as a phone book. Whew when you young!

(Insert MARRIAGE with all it's highs, lows and in betweens that two young, childless, negroes living in NY might just go thru)


How I Lost Him, I was making bean pies at the apartment in Philly. He stayed at our Jersey house during the week and came down on the weekend. The phone rung and it was his father and he just said "Pam, Husband is dead". I remember telling him to call next door to my mom (my family owns a whole block in Philly) and I picked up a sleeping six month old mini- me and walked barefoot to my mom's house. I remember entering and people screaming and then all running towards me...they had to carefully take mini-me from me because I was squeezing her so tight.

The imagery kept coming......a call saying he was stabbed 23 times, no suspects...home invasion......Muslims have to get their dead in the ground in 48 hours, so there was lots of activity - my mom was sewing the National for the casket, black was being hung on the windows, the cops were calling back and forth asking me questions etc. etc. We had two furnerals - there were that many people in attendance. My Husband was an up and coming record producer and knew alot of people. We rode up for the second private furneral. The Imam's call to prayer washed over me as if God himself was in the room.

NYPD and NJ police were all over the case - his father was Serpico's partner (yea that one) at one time and they take care of their own. Two weeks it took to catch them, and it turned out to be so simple - they paged the pager they had stolen and they called the cops back. All over the papers - Head State Prosecutor taking the case. I KNEW THEM NIGGAS! Had pictures of them sitting on my couch. They were 'clients'...the story came out.

They owed money, he wouldn't release music, they quarrel, they beat him up knocked him out, he awoke to having had a garbage bag tied around his head to suffocate him, he got it off, they beat him some more, stabbed him 23 times, went upstairs to clean up, came back and he was gone. Had crawled down the hall out the back door, jumped the fence to get to the neighbors, they caught up and slit his throat..he died on the glass atrium that was my neighbors kitchen, they woke up to coffe and.....him. He tried......

Two trials...one year...court every day almost...pack up the house...they came in and cleaned all the blood, sell,move, stay sane....his best friend attacks murderer in the elevator thru 'special permission', murderer stands up and tells me to go to hell on the stand pandemonium in the court room...stressful...gotta take care of the baby...STOP THE INSANITY I'm only 28 years old!

60 years no chance of parole - every couple of years I write a letter to make sure nothing fishy goes on and they even attempt to get the fuck out.

"Ms...this is court TV, we saw your file in court and will be featuring it on I Dectective" Mini-me now 9 - you what? Surreal watching my life on television...didn't want people to know I was suspect...who is that playing me? She got my hair stylea the time. Um okay he was light but why not a black actor, phone ringing off the hook...you okay...Yes I am okay - He sees I'm doing a damn good job - look at that smile on Mini-me's face...she got his eyes and hair and she got his love for music - he lives on.....



May the peace and blessings of Allah forever be upon him
Rest In Peace
 
posted by Pamalicious at 8:16 AM | Permalink |


3 Comments:


  • At 8:43 AM, April 19, 2007, Blogger Ladynay

    Wow Pam, thanks for sharing that story. I wish I could say more but I can't :-(

     
  • At 4:50 PM, April 19, 2007, Anonymous Anonymous

    I'm a long time lurker even though I've commented maybe twice. lol But what a story. Thanks for sharing.

     
  • At 2:54 AM, April 23, 2007, Blogger NeenaLove

    how tragic... yet here you are, raising your daughter so that makes it triumphant. **sigh**

    continue on in peace and love!!!

    you have such an interesting history.

    hugz,
    neena