In The Begining God Created Time

  In the beginning God created time.  It doesn't include that in any text I have ever read.  Why is it so hard for people to understand that he always was and always will be.  If there was no time, then there was no future, and there was no past.  That's where my story begins.
  I was five years old.  I had never been to any preschool, or kindergarten.  I knew a great deal, but not in a conventional way.  My Dad and Mom had six daughters, and six sons.  I was the number six birth.  My mom had a nervous break down when I was three.  Somehow I was lost in the confusion.  I guess somebody was suppose to be taking care of me, but they thought you took care of a three year old, like you take care of a dog.  So, each morning, they put me out in the backyard, and collected me in the evening.  I was very lonely at first, and cried often.  I felt the need to be hugged.  After a time, I began to notice that I had company.  There were worms, ants, and birds.  There was a nice big short haired hunting dog on one side of our yard, and two mid sized crazy red dogs on the otherside of our yard.   My parents lived with us children in a very small row house in northwest Baltimore City, in the state of Maryland.  The yard was small, but big in a young child's perspective.  The little yard had many wonderful thing to offer.  Because my mother was in the hospital on and off for the next two years, and medicated when she was home, I didn't have a mother.  I only had a beautiful little back yard, with honey suckle, grapes, and morning glories, which grew on the old wire fence,  A big mulberry tree that hung over our yard.  Bees and flies were drawn to the rotting fruit that would fall to the ground.
   This was a great beginning.  I once looked at it as a tragedy, but I was wrong.   I was spared the insanity of mankind, and it was replaced with the nurturing goodness of God.  I didn't know it at the time.   I thought everybody had this great joy of life that I found in that little yard.  The great joy at the creations that God gave us.  I didn't even know who God was then.  I only knew that I wasn't alone, there was a guiding presense with me, and that there was love in all the things the guiding presense created.  The creatures and creations knew me, and I knew them.  The world was a wonderful place.  I was in the Garden Of Eden.
  Because my birthday is late in September, my mother started me in Catholic School, at the age of five.  I was excited  and looked forward to school.  This was to be a new adventure, and my natural spirit loved, and still loves, adventure.  The first day was fun.  There were so many children my age.  I didn't know what was going on around me, and didn't understand all the posters on the wall, and the big ABCDEFG letters that were pasted near the cieling, but they were fun to look at.  I felt magical wearing my long sleeve bleached white shirt, and red bow tie.  All the other kids had on the same attire.  This made it even more fun.
  The second day of school we had to stand up, as the nun called out our names.  When they called mine, the children laughed.  I smiled, not knowing why they would find the name roach, so funny.
 The third day of school I turned around to say hi to the boy that sat in the desk behind me.  The school was so far from my home, that I felt a little scared, because I didn't know how to find my way home from this location.  The second day, after school, my brother forgot to meet me.  I wanted to know if the boy could help me find my way home, if my brother forgot to meet me again.  The next thing I knew, I was jerked out of my seat, struck across the face, and scolded for talking.  Later that day the nun told me to tell her what the colors were on the wall.  I didn't know any of them.  I didn't know any letters.  I didn't know any of the things that they teach in school.  The other children did.   After beating me with the pointer stick that the num carried around, she put a dunce cap on me, and made me sit in the back of the class room.  That nun "Sister Amanda", beat me every single day of the remaining year.  When I would come home with a bleading lip, or bleeding knockles, my mother would tell me that I deseved to be beat.  When I went to my father, he said that if I came to him one more time about the beatings, he would get out the switch, and give me the beating of my life, and that it would make me forget about the beatings that Sister Amanda gave me. 
  On the last day of school at Saint Ambrose, the tradition was to let the children out  after the first hour, so we could go to the school carnival.  Because I was always without money, as my family was poor, and my mother's children were allowed to attend the school on a special grant by the church,  I sat and watched the other children with the hot dogs, sodas, and candy cotton, and getting on the rides.   I didn't notice the approach of Sister Amanda.
  I was startled by her sudden appearence.  I quickly turned my head to absorb the blow that I forsaw.  To my surprise, it didn't come.  Instead, she put her arm around me and started talking in a soothing voice.  I was scared.   I kept wanting to run.    Because of my fear, her words sounded like static, and made no sense at first.   "Ronald, you know what I did to you, was for your own good".  I responded "Yes sister".   She then gave me a hot dog and a cup of soda.  Before her arrival, I really wanted a soda and hot dog, but after she gave it to me, I felt like crying.  I didn't know why.  My insides felt sick.  I kept thinking "What is wrong with me.  Why am I so evil".
  Since I only had zeros on all my tests that year, they decided to move me to the second grade "On Triel", as they put it.   Sister Madanna was a sweet pretty, and very small nun.  She was pretty inside as well.  She was kind.  There was a boy named Michel, who was her pet.  He was also very smart, and very possesvive.  When Sister Mondanna tried to bring me out of the coma like state that I was in, Michael took offense.  He gathered the rest of the boys in the class, and at lunch, they would hunt down, and beat me up.  Michael would do the most damage.  He new how to use his fists.  He would drive them into my face and stomache.  All Sister Madanna's good intentions, just made my life worse. 
  My mother forced me to stay in "Saint Ambrose" for eight years.  I never had a passing mark the entire eight years I was there.  Nothing but zeros,.  I never passed a single grade.  I was kept back, or put up on triel to the next grade, until I reached grade six.
  By the time they sent me to the sixth grade, I was no longer filled with fear of the nuns or  any of the children around me.  The tables had turned.  Now it was them, that feared me.  I had learned to hate the nuns, and hate bullies.  When bullies would try to push me around, I would go into a rage.  I couldn't even remember beating them.  The fights were just a blur in my mind.  I hated violence, yet it was pouring out of me like a water falls.   The nuns were afraid of me.  I guess they were reading my thoughts.  Instead of shying away when they hit me, I would, without meaning to, lunge at them.  I couldn't help myself.  I was on the verge of losing control. 
  The school principle called for a meeting with my mom.  The school made a deal with my mother.  The deal was; If she would take me out of the school, they would doctor the records, so that they showed me with a B average.  If she didn't take the deal, they would kick me out of the school.  This was bad news for my mom, great news for me. 
  I entered into the public school system with a new found joy.  Unfortunetly, it was during a racial upheaval in Baltimore, which ocurred in the early sixties.  I found myself emersed in a school that was three fourths blacks, and they were the kind that hated whites.  Fortunetly for me, though I was a gentle person by nature, the nuns had filled me with so much hate that it unleashed itself on the gangs that would attack me in halls.  These gangs would even attack white student in the classrooms with teacher present.
  When I was fourteen, I told my mother I wasn't going to school anymore.   I was tired of fighting everyday, and it was every day.  My hopes of getting an education died.   I formed a gang, with help from another white boy.  His name was Paul.  Paul introduced himself, and told me he had been watching me.   He told me we had to do something together, and that a gang was the only way we would survive.  Paul was smart, and could see the train coming down the tracks.  He was in the same situation.  A smart boy he was, and a good person.  Our gang grew, as other white students noticed how we would fight back to back, no matter what the odds.  The other white boys found courage in me and my friend Paul.  The boys wanted to join to be protected, but also, because they were now willing to fight, and not just be victims.  If one us got jumped, then we all faught.  If one of our memebers was caught alone, and beaten up, we hunted down the assailent, and made him fear death.  Guns and knives were now showing up in lockers.  Students were be carted off to detentions center for involvement in the gang fights.
  My mom didn't say anything, when I told her I got a job in a gas station, and that there would be no more school for me.  My father agreed, as he was tired of having to be called up to the school to deal with all the chaos.  He was tired of defending me so I didn't go to jail.  He was tired of  having to talk to the principle.  He could see the writting on the wall.
  By the time I was sixteen I had my first motorcycle.  "The Beatles" musical group, and the bikers, were my heros.  The war in Vietnam had heated up to a very high point of American losses.  The president of the united states, and the U.S Attorney General, had been assasinated.  The new president wanted war, probably because it was good for profits of certain companies hear in the U.S, and in France, and Britain.  The Marine Corp was  in need of recruits.  They were losing a lot of people in the war, and a lot of Marines were being sent home from wounds.   I was able to use this to my advantage.  Even though I was only sixteen years old, they took me. 
  My intention was to make my family proud.  I didn't care if I had to die to do it.  As far as I was concerned,  I was a piece of garbage.  It would not be any loss for the world if I was shot and killed.  At least my family would know that I wanted to be a good son, and not the embarrasment that I was.  They would know, that even though I was a zero on all my tests at school, I was worth something, even if it was just to catch a bullet.
  I quickly started to view the Marine Corp as part of the evil that is in the world.   I wanted to help propagate good in the world, and stamp out evil.  I perceived them as evil.  So where did this leave me? 
  It left me with a mental delema.  However, they changed my life by an event of serendipity.  When they tested me at Paris Island, they felt the need to ask me if I would like to attend Officers School after getting back the results of tests..  I remember saying "But Sir, I've never passed a grade in my life, and I only went to the seventh grade.".   My Master sergent looked at me and said; "What?".    I started to reapeat myself, but he cut me off and told me I was dismissed.  I never heard anymore about officers school again, but it did make me curious.   
  When I got to "A.I.T.(advanced infintry training), I ran into a friend that worked in the clerical section.  I told him about the offer of going to Officer School, and asked him if he could explain why they made that offer.  He said it was because when they tested me, I could figure out problems, that no one else in my company could figure out.  That I could see realationships in things that other people couldn't.  I had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded could to me.  Maybe I wasn't a complete idiot.  I had a 4.4 in training.  I could fight, I could hit the target, I could get throught the opstical course faster then anybody in my platoon.  On the other hand, a fellow marine came up to me in the barracks one night, as I was writting susie cue back home, and asked me; "Hey Roach, how do you spell the?".    So I wasn't going to let the offer to officer's school go to my head.  I know longer believed that the Marine Corp was looking for a few good men.  Since three fourths of my original platoon died in the war, and I felt like **** for not dieing with them, I refused to take there phone calls when the survivors would call and need to talk.  I felt guilty.
  I started getting into fights with the marine sargents, because I didn't want to fight.   Somehow, they took all the fight out of me for the war, but I wanted to fight with the sargents, so I wound up going to Portsmith Naval Prison for a number of charges that included assult and batter on several noncoms.  I told the cornel that there were three of them, and one of me, and that they took the firt step by hitting me in the nose, but he didn't buy it, and called me a lier.  I was telling truth, but it didn't seem to matter to me anymore.  Nothing seemed to matter.  I just want to leave this crazy world.   I stopped believeing that what I was doing was right.  To kill people in a third world country, that was divided into five factions, that was a poor country, just  didn't feel right anymore.   I just wanted to stand still in one spot, and try to figure out what was wrong with the world, or my view of it.  I suddenly felt dummer. 
  That propblem with dummer didn't pass.  I kept getting dummer, and dummer.  The more I learned about the world of man, the dummer I got. 
  When I felt I could take the world no more, and I couldn't stand to look at the stupid person in the mirror anymore, I would seek refuge in the forest.  The forest made sense to me.  It eased my mind, and I didn't feel like the weight of the world was on my shoulders when I was there. 
  Shortly after I got out of the Marine Corp, I decided to take my friend up on his offer to go to see a movie.  Ten minutes into the movie, I had my first panic attack.  I broke out into a sweat, and started shaking.  I had no idea what was attacking me, but something was tearing my soul apart and killing me.  I told my friend I was going leave the theatre.  He said;  "What".  I said' I'm going Jim.  I gotta leave.  Now.
    I couldn't explain to Jim what was going on, because I didn't know.  Also, I felt there wasn't time to explain.   I only knew that something was telling me to run out of that theatre.  I faked a walk as long as I could stand it, and then broke out into a full run.  I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I had to get there fast.
  I landed in the woods.  I had no idea could run that far at such a fast pace.  I started crying, and yelling "What in the hell is going on".    As I weeped, I suddenly found myself hugging a big old tree.  I started feeling the old tree, the way I could feel the plants when I was a child.  I started to connect with the tree.  I felt it's love, the way I could feel love from plants and animals around me when I was a child.  The world started to settle down.  
  I started to see the separation between man's world, and the world.  Man's world is this little place on a planet called earth.   Man as a creature, is born with greatness, and beauty.  The problem is, that beauty is crushed by an evil presense in our social system.  A corruption that is in the machinary of our culture.  An insanity that has corrupted and destroyed the beauty of the man beast. 

  Present Day

   I was in a coffee shop talking to what I call; "A Bible Thumper".  He told me that children are born into the world evil, and that we need to extract that evil.  "Spare the rod, and you spoil the child".  At that point, it took great effort for me to be nice.  People like that I want to show no mercy.    However, I did show him mercy and I was patient.   He is still alive.  If I was the killing type, he would not be here, for the good of mankind.
  My message, and I know from the goodness of the universe, and the sense of all creation, is that children are born into the world great, beautuful, and good. They are a gift from God.  Not the Christian god, but God.  If we are to have higher learning, it will come from a child that has not been crushed by the sickness of organized religion, and a brain washing government.     We are born into the world of chaos, because of a bad cog that fell into the machinery of society a long time ago.  The bad cog's damage, has propagated the insanity and chaos that has taken over the humens world.  Most people can't even fathom the truth of man's world.  Many other don't want to know, and would rather live with the lie.  Most people are so brainwashed by the time they reach addult hood, that any information you give them will be excepted within the perameters of the brainwash.  They will not fined the truth, because they have been so damaged by brainwashing that the human spirt within them( the part thatt talks to the universe) has gone to sleep.  It makes me sad, that this is the world we live in, so I try to reach out to people that know what it is I'm talking about. 
  So far, my observation is; I may be living in the land of the dead.   Beam me up Scotty.
                                                              I'm not just text and paste.  I'm a person.  My name is Ronald J. Roach.  I am not a clone.,  
ronaldjroach ronaldjroach
10 Responses Jul 18, 2010

you are an excellet writter I felt like I was in your back yard with you when you were little, I could see the grapes, and smell the morning glories. Very harsh life lessons to realize you had it all figuerd out in the begining by yourself. Mans social curse blurrs us all of what greatness is

Your very perceptive. It's a comfort to hear your words. You are good at putting your thoughts into print as well. Thank you, very much for your comment.

I have to say i t-Lickerishables comment kills me! So well put!

You have such a story and it's apparent that you've overcome mistreatment.<br />
You're inspiring. Don't stop writing, Okay?

Thank you for sharing that story. Your compassion shows. I find a lot of healing in the forest. The universe does seem to take care of its if you accept the help, doesn't it?

Unrelated... I love Rolle2323's pic. So cute!

Hey ronalddroach - I'm with ya buddy- I really liked your tale and the ending- amazing write thank you for sharing sir

Truth, but I hope entertaining. I do not need to resolve my past, but just thought I would share, just this once, for the entertainment factor. I found myself entertained as well, as I didn't remember writing the story, until I came across it in my profile. I can keep my distance, while reading. It was like reading a story from another person. My next story will be pure fiction.

Dam, I read your story. We are all children of God and we are born without sin. Due to free will, we have filled out lives with sin. The people that have wronged you in your life will be punished by a higher power. Just because they thought they were doing good doesn't mean they were right. I will pray for you Ronald J. Roach, for you are a child of the universe and deserve love and respect. Many wonderful blessings...Your Wicked Witch.

I couldn't believe what you went through as a child and the abuse you suffered during your whole life. But at the end, I actually understood what you were talking about and I agreed with it.

Well, I have to tell you. I think you did alot of sharing.But I grieve for your pain. I so wish you hadnt went through all the neglect and mistreatment that you did. There is nothing odd about you at all.You've suffered. I have too. Im not sure that it was totally to the extent that you did.I was invisilble. I thought I had to to survive. The other 2 people may not have the understanding. A person who has went through similar experiences ,knows the pain. Im glad you saw God in your life at a young age as did I.He has been my light.May God shine on you now.He will hold our hand and help us through.