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‘part’ of my story – 2

July 28, 2009

youve read part 1 here – heres part 2 (of 3)….


Staring out the window of a Greyhound Bus going…where? I knew where I was going, geographically, but I had no idea where “Tam” was going. But as I replayed the last 72 hours in my mind, I knew it couldn’t possibly get any worse than it had been.

I feared Steve was following me and I was becoming very paranoid. I was jumpy, fidgety, constantly looking around the bus, a complete nervous wreck with a constant stream of tears. People left me alone for the most part.

I was traveling during the big Greyhound Bus Strike in the summer of 1990 so this made the trip even more traumatic than it should’ve been. Each station we pulled into we were met with protestors yelling at us, waiting outside the bus doors while some even threw bricks at the bus windows while we sat waiting to exit.

In chaos like that it was extremely difficult for me to keep my eyes peeled out for Steve. Lots of pushing and shoving and wrangling us passengers into safety. An environment that made it difficult for me to stay aware of my surroundings. I was so afraid he was following me. It felt like walking down a dark corridor and hearing unwanted footstep coming up quickly behind you.

I remember arriving at the first stop; we were taken to a diner down the road while the driver tended to the bus at the station. Upon entering the diner I noticed it was eerily quiet. That made me extra nervous. Actually, everything made me nervous.

We didn’t have a long time before having to re-board, so most of us opted for the salad bar and began making our way through. I was beginning to relax a little bit. It had been all day since I’d eaten so I was pretty hungry.

I was focusing on filling my plate when the jukebox started playing.  When all the breath, the life, instantly left my body. A song broke the diners silence. Steve’s favorite song. The one he played over and over during the days he held me hostage in our home. I dropped my salad plate and stepped backwards until I was up against the wall. The gentleman in front of me started cleaning my salad from the floor while asking if I was all right. All I could say was, “He’s here. He’s here.” I didn’t move. Only my eyes, frantically searching the diner hoping, with everything in me, I wouldn’t see Steve.

The kind gentleman asked, again, if I was okay. I told him I was afraid someone was following me. He then took it upon himself to escort me as long as were traveling the same route. Which would only be one of the three, long, traveling days. But I was grateful for that. A little unsure of his motives, but at this point, I had nothing more to lose. Nothing.

The three day trip felt more like 3 weeks. No showers. No privacy. Restless, sleepless, nights on broken plastic bus station chairs. Keeping one eye out for an unexpected offender and another one out for Steve. As frightened as I was about not making it to Southern California alive…I did!

June 11th, I arrived in So, CA. met by my Uncle anxiously waiting to scoop me up. The car ride to his home was long, so I was told, but I slept the whole way. My first rest in nearly a week.

As we walked into his home the phone was ringing. My Uncle rushed to answer it – it was my mom. He spoke with her for a moment before handing me the phone. I couldn’t believe her words. I didn’t believe her words. She said Steve had shot himself. Silence. It didn’t occur to me he might be dead. There was no way he would kill himself – he’d rather haunt me. So I asked if he was gone and she said, yes. My legs gave out and I hit the floor, crying, and afraid that he wasn’t dead. Afraid that he would want me to believe that while he came after me.

I was actually afraid he WASN’T dead… how quickly a broken little girl I had become….

read part 1 here

read part 3 here

11 Comments leave one →
  1. July 28, 2009 11:13 am

    Tam, it’s incredible to see who you’ve become after going through something like this. It’s heart breaking and encouraging all that the same time.

  2. July 28, 2009 11:43 am


  3. July 28, 2009 11:50 am

    I still wish I could have been your ‘papa’ back then and took you in my arms and assured you your life had great things in it. I would have done my best to introduce you to my best friend – Jesus.

  4. July 28, 2009 12:06 pm

    love to you.

  5. Heidi permalink
    July 28, 2009 4:27 pm

    Broken ….. But God was there.

    Loving you.

  6. July 28, 2009 8:39 pm

    …more speechless…

  7. August 27, 2010 6:49 pm

    Hi Tam

    I just got here via Lindsey Nobles’ RT of your tweet today. I clicked around a bit and stumbled upon your story in three parts … wow. So beautiful. I wonder if you would let us publish it on , please? ? I couldn’t find a contact email for you on this site, so sorry for the “public ask.” I would love to hear from you … blessings, idelette


  1. ‘part’ of my story – 3 « inProgress
  2. ‘part’ of my story – 1 « inProgress
  3. Testimony… - This Pilgrim's Progress
  4. 2009 best posts – a re-post: my story « inProgress

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