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| My Dad sometimes went by the name of Danny Cook or Danny Wilson............. He was a filthy untidy man, not the usual Romany but, very hard working man but he was obsessed with money he told us over and over again �If you haven�t got money you are a nobody�, he would do things both legally or illegally to obtain it. He did the usual things gypsies did, horse trading or scrap metal dealing along with a bit of poaching, general thieving, a lot of the times taking us with him to teach us how to survive. |
| When I awoke I was so confused, didn�t know what the time was or where I was but I knew the cars were going in the direction I needed to be going. As I continued on my way I began to feel hungry, there wasn�t anything growing in the fields but I remembered my dad saying that the new leaves from the Hawthorne bush were good for you, so I picked a load and ate them. I can�t remember what they taste like but I know I didn�t spit them out so they can�t be that bad. As I carried on I came to a junction where there were houses. I snook around the back of them to see if I could find some food, I managed to get some more vegetables. ......... I went along the hedgerow towards Doncaster. It wasn�t long before I heard gun shots followed by screams of get of my land you dirty, filthy gypo scum, so I decided to go along the road side, and if anyone especially lorries looked like they were going to stop I would run through the hedgerow and hide. |
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| If you would like to know more about Ron or his book - 'I Didn't Belong'. Please contact him at - [email protected] Or leave a message in the guest book. *************************************************************************** Ron is hoping to publish his book soon, if you know of any way to enable him to do that. Please let him know via the email address. Thank You! |
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| Then, we realised Santa had been, on the end of our bed (my brothers and I all slept together) there were stockings full of sweets and nuts. We went to Mums room and asked if we could go down stairs she said yes but we all had to go together it was great, we had lots of toys we even had a bike to share. As we played with our toys and had the inevitable arguments about who was going to play with what as mammy tried to stop us arguing as she cooked Christmas Dinner happily singing Carols along to the radio. The worst happened, my dad turned up, as usual drunk and in a rage ranting and raving, swearing, threatening us kids so that Mum would react. When she kept her cool trying to avert more violence the usual happened he grabbed me slung me across the yard mammy snapped and dad did his usual, beat my Mum really bad, then went on to sling our Christmas dinner into the yard then continued through the house. Everything we had was smashed to bits, and then he grabbed our Frank said goodbye and Merry Christmas. Using his boot on Mum to emphasize his point, chucked Frank in his van and drove off, he could work and earn money for him. |
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| When I arrived at Stanley House I was absolutely petrified. It was a massive house, like something you see in books about Kings and Princes, with steps leading to the front door. The complete opposite to what I was used to, after living in the squalid conditions of caravans, Gypsy sites and back lanes to a completely new way of life. Once I had been documented and introduced to the staff who seemed to care I was taken upstairs to the first landing to the boy�s bathroom where I was scrubbed literally! Before the Doctor arrived to give me a medical. I was found to have scabies, lice, I was also on the verge of malnutrition, covered in bruises and cuts I also had fits and a definite paranoia of people, which were caused from my constant beatings from my dad. |
| Excerpts from Chapters One to Four |