User:SFG

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“When you were young, did you ever think you were going to have a big thing happen in your life? Because I always felt that something big was going to happen in my life.” ~Princess Diana

It is hard for me to fully explain my life and my family without telling of some dark times. It is not I that has suffered; it is those who have come before me. I have had an amazing life; a life that can promote jealousy, for my parents allowed me a childhood without worry. They have loved me so much that sometimes I would feel guilt for being so lucky. Then one day my mother told me not to feel guilt, she suffered in her life so that I would never have to and it is through her that I have felt the pain of suffering. It is through her childhood stories and experiences that she divulged as I became old enough to understand, that I myself have known what it is to feel unending hunger, immense fear, and neglect.

My mother was born August 30, 1956. This would be the year that The United Kingdom bans heroin, Elvis Presley enters the music charts for the first time, with "Heartbreak Hotel," a Joint Resolution of the U.S. Congress is signed by President Dwight D. Eisenhower, authorizing "In God We Trust" as the U.S. national motto, and in the U.S. presidential election, Republican incumbent Dwight D. Eisenhower is reelected. She was adopted into a family with the last name Swygard, which I am not able to find the origin or meaning of. She was the 4th child in the family and the only that was adopted. Her “parents” would go on to have 9 more children after she was adopted. I know, it doesn’t make sense to me either. Neither do their names. There is Luana, Makila, Latia, Adrama, and Xox just to name a few. My mother, Aleta, lived in a tiny two bedroom house in south Florida with her many siblings and two crazy parents. I have never met my grandfather because he died well before I was born. I feel this was fortunate because he was a hateful and possibly clinically insane man. I don’t know much about his past because my mother doesn’t like to talk about him too much. She has never even called him her father or my grandfather. William did not believe in doctors so many illnesses that my aunts and uncles had throughout the years were never really treated. Once my uncle Adrama broke a leg and it took a lot of convincing for William to take him to the hospital. This man used to leave my mother in a bookstore he owned (one of his many business ventures) for days at a time when she was only 13 years old. Even in those days downtown Miami was not a friendly place and one night a man walked in and attempted to rape her. Luckily, another customer walked in and unknowingly saved her. There was an Italian restaurant, Capri’s, next door and one of the men overheard her crying afterward on the payphone outside. The next day she noticed men standing outside the store. She began to become nervous until the grandfather who owned the little restaurant came over and talked to her. He knew that she was alone a lot and he told her that she would never have to worry again because they would be watching out for her from now on. Yes, my mom was protected by the mob, I swear. They gave her a ring as well that she still has to this day.

My “grandmother” used to abuse my mother when she was younger. She would beat her with a belt until my mother’s pillowcase was red with blood. Dorothy never took very good care of any of the children and was eventually put into a mental home. My mom says she remembers her always sitting and staring at the wall. Dorothy died two years ago. I didn’t shed a single tear. A step mother came into the picture when my mom was about 7. Diane was a fun woman with short dark hair but she was young and selfish. She had a few children with my “grandfather” and she focused more on them then the rest of the children. Most of the time my mother was taking care of all the kids that were younger than her starting when she was 8 years old. She would stay awake at night to make sure the roaches didn’t crawl on them when they slept. They were dirt poor in a time when there wasn’t very much help available. Sometimes a church would donate clothes every once in a while around the holidays but generally they were on their own. This is why my mother has always been a stickler for a no excuses creed. Surprisingly, even with all that she had to go through she is against welfare. I guess because her childhood was so bad and she still accomplished many things and became a good person, she doesn’t see why everyone else can’t either. She doesn’t have any patience for sob stories. My aunts and uncles turned out fairly well, at least the ones I know. The younger ones started to get into drugs so my mother cut ties with them. I only know 5 of my mother’s siblings. So think of all the cousins I could have out there.

When she was 36, my mother found her natural mother living in Michigan. My mother’s biological name was Smith. Almost like a needle in the haystack, all this time my mom had been searching for someone with one of the most ambiguous and common surnames in the country. Smith comes from the Anglo-Saxon Smitan, meaning to smite or strike. Among the Highland clans, the smith ranked third in dignity to the chief, from his skill in fabricating military weapons, and his dexterity in teaching the use of them. There was no name on the birth certificate for her biological father. I remember talking to Grandma Smith one time on the phone. She told me she loved me and I told her I loved her too. That would be the last time I talked to her. Not too much into the relationship she decided not to talk to my mother anymore because the memories were too painful or embarrassing. But, my mother found out she had a half brother and the name of her biological father. She tried calling him once; he denied my mom as his child and hung up. A few years ago, after much consideration, my mother decided to try to contact her half brother. His name is Ken and he lives in Wisconsin. I have two nieces and a nephew. My mother decided to visit them 2 years ago and went alone. She says that my one niece is just like me. I have seen pictures and now we exchange gifts through the mail. Ken told mom that there is Scottish ancestry on their side of the family. We came from descendants of the famous Wallace clan.

The name Wallace originates from the Old French word "waleis" meaning a "welshman", although the Scottish form is thought to refer to a Strathclyde Briton. The name of the clan Wallace is first found in records in the twelfth century and it is said that they held extensive lands around Ayrshire and Renfrewshire. Richard Walensis of Riccarton is considered the founder of the Wallace family. The motto of the Wallace clan is "Pro Libertate - for liberty" and no member of the family encompasses that ideal more than the great Scottish patriot, Sir William Wallace of Elderslie. The Wallace clan had refused to submit to Edward I, and William led his family and fellow patriots in what was to be one of the earliest guerrilla campaigns in military history. His military genius made him hated and feared by Edward I and he was known traditionally as "Guardian of Scotland". He was ultimately betrayed to the English and executed with great brutality. Pretty sweet huh? When I went to Scotland last year I brought my mother back a scarf made from the family plaid. I couldn’t help it and I bought myself one too.

When my mother was 24 when she married my father and she was 27 when she gave birth to me.

If it is my mother who has taught me how to be strong, it is my father who has challenged me to consider who I want to become. Most of the time he has shown me where hard work and dedication can take you but sometimes we do not see eye to eye about this world. My rebellion against some of his ideas about the equality of all people has led me to my future career path.

My father, Thomas, was born June 10th 1951 in Coral Cables, Florida. In this year the Twenty-second Amendment to the United States Constitution, limiting Presidents to two terms, is ratified, The Dennis the Menace comic strip appears in newspapers across the U.S. for the first time, In Joplin, Missouri, George Washington Carver National Monument becomes the first United States National Monument in honor of an African American, and the first military exercises for nuclear war occur, with infantry troops included, in the Nevada desert. Thomas was an only child to Frank and Frances Garner. The garner family name originated in Rutland, England and the family traces their ancestral roots back to Anglo Saxon origin. The Garner shield consists of a blue background with a sword diagonally between a fleur-de-lys and an oak branch in the base. Above this is the crest of a griffin's head. Yes, I have actually seen this shield, my Grandma, Frances, had it hanging in their house until my Grandpa’s death forced her to move. The Garner family can be genealogically linked with many places including the Gunton Park Castle and the county of Norfolk. The head of the family at that time was Lord Suffield.

My father had a fairly normal childhood. He played guitar in a band and loved racing cars at the Miami race track. Once he told me about this time he was illegally racing on a highway and the police saw him. My dad actually ran from them and participated in a high speed chase. As he was telling me this I looked at him like he was an idiot, how did he ever think he was going to get away? Well, it turns out that he just went home and hid in his house. At that time police weren’t allowed on private property so when they came to the door and my Grandma told them that my dad was not inside, there was nothing they could do. I think I get my need from speed from him. Both my dad and I always wanted me to drag race with one of his 57 Chevy but my mom refuses to let me. My dad actually used to use my foot as a gear shift when I was a baby. I mean honestly, how can he blame me for my speeding tickets after positively reinforcing me since childhood? I am the only girl I know who can name the make and model of a car and is good with direction. My dad graduated from high school in 1969 so he was a target of the draft of the Vietnam War.

The Vietnam War, or Second Indochina War, began in 1965 and lasted until 1973, when U.S. involvement ended with the Paris Peace Accords. Unfortunately, millions of casualties, including many civilians, would occur before the fifteen years of fighting would end. The conflict included the Democratic Republic of Vietnam (DRVN, or North Vietnam), allied with the National Liberation Front (NLF, or "Viet Cong") against the Republic of Vietnam (RVN, or South Vietnam), and its allies, including the United States military’s support of the South. On March 8, 1965, 3,500 United States Marines became the first US combat troops to land in South Vietnam but by August 1966 Lyndon Johnson authorized an increase in troop numbers to a war time peak of 429,000. My Grandmother refused to let my father go to war especially since he was her only child. She helped my dad to legally escape the draft by hiring an attorney who kept the paperwork circulating until a year was up. A year is the allotted time that the Army has to get you into service once you are drafted. Though my dad was saved from the torment, he had many friends who were not so lucky. His one friend Mac was in the Green Beret for two tours as a mole. A mole is the soldier who had to navigate the tunnels made by the Vietnamese. After he returned from war, he would have vivid memories during thunderstorms because the noises sounded similar to the gunfire when he was a mole. Then one night during a thunderstorm he reacted and pulled a gun on his 4 year old son. He didn’t hurt him but continues to be tormented by Vietnam to this day.

My grandfather did not fare as well as my father when it came to war. My grandfather, Frank, grew up on a corn and tobacco farm near Stone Mountain in Georgia with his twin sisters. When he was 27 he was drafted into the air corp. He became involved in WWII in 1943. At first he moved around the states because he worked in transport. Then he ended up in Guam which was conquered and occupied by Japanese forces starting on December 8, 1941. The 3rd Marine Division and U.S. Army elements, including the 305th Infantry, landed on Guam on July 21, 1944. By August 9th, U.S. commanders declared Guam secured, even though fighting would go on in the jungles until late 1945. Guam's northern end became a major B-29 SuperFortress field, and the Navy took back the base at Apra Harbor. Naval Base Guam became one of the main staging areas for supplies as the Navy pushed toward Japan. Fleet Admiral Chester Nimitz moved his HQ from Pearl Harbor to Guam, and located it on a hill that bears his name today. There is no definite number of Japanese that were on the island, but the general guess is 20,000 or so. Most of them would die, many in suicide "Banzai" charges against a massed and solid American position. Some of the Japanese lived in caves high in the cliffs that were very sharp and hard to access. Every once in a while they would come down from the mountains and kill people in their sleep or to hide land mines. Frank was part of the Army ground crew and part of his job was to transport fuel for the B-29s. One day as he was riding in one of the fuel trucks; it ran over a land mine. The two men with my grandfather died immediately while my grandfather was blown out of the truck. He had spilt fuel on his pants earlier and this ignited during the blast. His pants caught on fire and he received extensive burns on both legs. He suffered a lot of damages and the doctors were threatening amputation. Then doctors from Titan, a neighboring island, saved his leg by soaking it in a pig trough filled with penicillin. He returned from the war in 1946 and in 1950 he had a skin graft on his legs.

My grandparents met in Florida. They were neighbors and they only knew each other for 90 before they eloped in 1935. They were married 64 years until my grandfather died. If he were still alive today they would be celebrating their 70th wedding anniversary this year. When Frank was first enlisted, Frances traveled with him around the states. Then when he was sent over seas, she started her first job ever. She became a beautician.

My grandparents moved to Hialeah, Florida in the early 1930s. My Grandfather worked a lot at Pan-American and my father did not see him that much. My Grandmother stopped working and was a housewife. They decided to move to Ocala in 1981. They lived in the same house until 2000 when my grandfather passed away from cancer. A few months later my Grandma decided to move in with my parents and me, but we only lived about one mile away. When my mother was cleaning up their house and boxing up their possessions, she found $50,000 hidden randomly all over the house. It turns out that my grandparents didn’t trust banks after the Depression.

The Great Depression began in 1929 when both of my grandparents were 13 years old. Each of them was affected in a different way since my grandfather lived on a farm in Georgia while my Grandmother lived in the city of in Ohio. For example, Ohio had the highest concentration of luxury automobiles manufacturers outside of Detroit. Therefore, as the luxury car industry began to collapse, salaried and hourly workers were laid off. In contrast, many farms experienced a great drought in the Eastern U.S. and many farmers were forced to take trains up north in order to find work. Both suffered.

That was my family and this is me. My name is Stacey Frances Garner. I was born in Hialeah, Florida but as you can see from my family background, I am not Spanish at all. I moved to Ocala when I was 5 and I have lived there most of my life. I have one half-sister named Johanna and one half-brother named Thomas Jr. They are from my father’s previous marriage to a woman named Honora. My parents had known each other since they both attended Hialeah High School because my dad was friends with my mother’s older siblings. They first romantically noticed each other at a Halloween party many years later. They started dating when my sister was 5 and my brother was 2. I am my mother’s only true blood relative that she really knows. Many people think that I am an only child because my brother and sister are so much older than me (6 and 9 years) and because my mother dotes on me. But my brother and sister have never really been that close with me. I have always considered my friends my siblings and that is why I treasure them so much.

I danced for 14 years. My parent put me in ballet because I was really clumsy and they wanted me to be graceful. It didn’t work; they only teased me more and called me Grace when I was klutzy. I love it though. It is a requirement that the man I marry know how to dance. I think it is the sexiest thing ever when a man knows how to move his body.

I love listening to stories and I recounted most of the family stories in this essay from memory alone. I remember doing a history project once where I had to ask my parents where they were when monumental events occurred, e.g. the JFK assassination. I used to complain that nothing exciting had happened in my lifetime. How naïve of me not to realize that monumental usually meant catastrophic. Now I only wish that I had not been so eager. People say that memory is not trust worthy and research has proven that people can not remember events exactly as they happen. Yet, I swear I remember exactly when I first heard about the plane hitting the WTC. I also remember exactly what I was wearing. It was a new pastel yellow dress with flowers; it was the first and last time I would wear that dress to school. I was in my 1st period art class when the T.V. was first turned to the news. I was in Mr. Little’s portable when the towers collapsed. I considered telling my crush the feelings I had for him because who knew if we had another day to spare anymore.

I only took the ACT once, I only applied to one university, and my American History teacher, Mr. Hallick, decided the school I went to. I was supposed to room with one of my best friends from high school but she didn’t get in therefore leaving me stuck in a crappy dorm. I ended up with a random roommate and we ultimately lived together for two years. My mom says I am blessed because usually I fall right into place where I am supposed to be. Things always work out in the end.

Now I am a 4th year psychology major who has recently decided that I am not going to grad school. I don't know what I am doing and actually while I was going through panhellenic recruitment, one of the potential new members suggested this class for me after I told her what I wanted to do with my life. I will probably never see her again but I have a feeling that she was right. I also had an interesting experience in Mexico when I went to Acapulco for a mission’s trip instead of the usual Cancun graduation trip. We were supposed to go to Africa but after 9/11 all the parents got paranoid. Anyways, we are riding along the coast to the house we are to stay in and I am in awe of the beautiful scenery and all the amazing resorts when my youth pastor points out the harsh reality on the other side of the road. There on the interior side of the cliff were whole families living in make shifts tents with buckets of water for plumbing. After seeing how real people lived, I have since vowed to never go back to Mexico for a vacation, and my youth pastor has since cheated on his wife with my bible study teacher. It's ok because I am not that Christian anymore anyways.

I also had the opportunity to study abroad in London last fall. Basically, it was the best experience of my life and I dream of going back and living there at some point. I traveled as much as I could in Europe and went to Scotland, Wales, Spain, France, Italy, and Greece. I have a weird obsession with different cultures and languages which I always blame on my family's lack of interesting heritage. We are basically British, the end. I want to at least become bilingual. I am working on my Spanish currently and wanted to take Mandarin but couldn't get into the class.

I am very interested in race relations. My grandfather was very racist, my father is somewhat racist, and I struggle at not being racist at all. It is a very shocking to discover one day that you are more intelligent or mature then your parents. My father and I had a conflict about the equality of all people and it definitely got heated. At one point I realized that every argument he had was based on just because and that all my arguments were based on fact. It was both a proud and sad moment.

I am very liberal and I don’t care what people do with their own lives as long as they are not hurting others. I like to challenge myself. I purposely make myself the minority as much as I can. I have gone to the step show for 2 years in a row and I am looking forward to another great show this year. I go to the Chinese and Vietnamese New Year celebrations. I attend Pride events where there is the possibility for people to think that I am homosexual. I think the biggest gift is to be able to empathize with others and then to be smart enough to make a difference. As for my future I am thinking Teach for America or JET. It would be awesome to go live in Japan. Oh yeah, I also have a weird obsession with Asian culture especially, which I blame on my dorm roommate, Lisa, who is from Taiwan. Overall, I am interested in meeting people who can teach me something.