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LifeRich Publishing - Denise Winters

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45 pages

English

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I’m writing this book based on my true-life experiences, in hopes of encouraging myself and others to know that whatever you’re going through, if we live, we can heal and grow from whatever experiences life may bring.
This book was written for all of the children who lost their mothers (literally) at the hands of Milwaukee's north side strangler, as well as the victims and their families who had to pick up such ugly pieces and try to move beyond the loss and pain.
During my years of struggle, I tried to speak up and speak out about the terrible ordeal I suffered, but I felt voiceless because nobody would listen to me or take me seriously.
I felt like (and I was often treated like) I was invisible. To many, I was just a crackhead prostitute. My credibility wasn't worth a wooden nickel to them, and I had no voice. This was exactly how I was treated! I was treated like a worthless nobody, but by the grace of God, I can now share my true story with everybody!
This book is based on my true-life experiences in hopes of encouraging myself and others, to know that whatever you are going through, if you live, you can heal, if you heal you can grow, and if you grow, regardless of whatever experiences life may bring, you can be redeemed.

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Biography

Autobiography

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Publié par	LifeRich Publishing
Date de parution	13 décembre 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781489745255
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0450€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

THE UNTOLD STORY

THE ONE WHO GOT AWAY!

Denise Winters

Copyright © 2022 Denise Winters.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

LifeRich Publishing is a registered trademark of The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc.

LifeRich Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.liferichpublishing.com
844-686-9607

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-4897-4524-8 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4897-4525-5 (e)

LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 11/16/2022
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Acknowledgements
Introduction

Childhood
Preteens
Adulthood

About the Author
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
F IRST, I ACKNOWLEDGE GOD WHO made a way for me through all dangers seen and unseen. He saved my life. It is because of God that I survived to tell this story. I found the strength and hope to keep going, even when I fell, He made it possible to get back up, and move a little bit further.
Second, to my cousin Danette who supported and encouraged me to go through all the steps to make this book a reality. She told me not to give up, and to not listen to all the negative people. She was like a cheer leader for me, especially at times that I thought life was too hard.
Third, to my counselor who said that writing was good therapy and would help me heal. She was right, even though I’ve cried more tears than I could imagine, to get it done.
Finally, my cousins Joel and Pastor Teresa who believed in me, supported, and helped me go through the process of editing and getting the book published.
I dedicate this book to the children who lost their mothers by the hands of Milwaukee’s North- Side Strangler, and to the women that lost their lives. Their lives mattered too. They had children who loved them, mothers, and family. I valued their lives even though others didn’t care, because they were on drugs, they could’ve had a chance to turn their lives around if they had lived, but they didn’t get the chance.
I acknowledge my children who shared a lot of ups and downs with me, especially my son who I lost in a tragic accident. My children were one of the main reasons I was determined to make it and turn my life around.
I dedicate this book to every woman who is ready to rise-up and go forward.
INTRODUCTION
I ’M WRITING THIS BOOK BASED on my true-life experiences, in hopes of encouraging myself and others to know that whatever you’re going through, if we live, we can heal and grow from whatever experiences life may bring.
In this book, I am laying down all my hurt, pain, anger, and offering apologies to the people I have hurt including relatives, and especially my children.
I dedicate this book to all the children who lost their mothers (literally) at the hands of Milwaukee’s North Side Strangler, as well as the families who had to pick up such ugly pieces and go forward.
During my years of struggle, I tried to speak up, but I felt voiceless because nobody would listen to me or take me seriously. I felt like I was invisible. I was just a crack head prostitute to them. My credibility wasn’t anything to them and I had no voice. And that was exactly how I was treated! I was treated like nobody! But deep down inside of me, I knew when it was all said and done, I was human. I had rights and knew who and what was done to me. I deserved justice just like any other person would want.
I want to also dedicate this book to the women that lost their lives. Their lives mattered too. They had children who loved them, mothers, and family. It doesn’t matter if they were on drugs or not, they could’ve had a chance to turn their lives around and be productive citizens. But the strangler didn’t give them that chance.
Through my story, I hope you see and feel my tragedy as well as my victory.
CHILDHOOD
I REMEMBER STAYING WITH MY GRANDMOTHER on my biological father’s side. My aunt on my biological father side told me that my grandmother asked my mom if she could raise me, and my mother allowed her to do so. I was too young to remember much, but my clear recollection starts at age five. The man who they said was my father would come over to my grandma’s house and just stare at me, then he would get up and walk right pass me.
I would daydream at times, thinking one day he’d start coming over just for me, spending time with me, taking me places with him and giving me some real attention. However, I don’t remember him ever spending any time with me and that made me so sad - feeling unwanted and unloved, because I really didn’t get much love from my mother either. She didn’t give me the emotional things I needed, just the financial needs. So, I started my life with a big feeling of hurt – no love. I stayed in Chicago with my grandmother for almost two years and transitioned back to my mother’s home.
When I was about seven, I remember being at my grandfather’s house on Cherry Street. My grandfather already had a large responsibility because my grandmother, my mother’s mom, left him with eleven children, five of them already grown and out the house. Six of them were still there so he had to feed us and their kids too. His wife left him for another man. One thing about my grandfather, he made sure every one of us children ate. We had pinto beans, black eyes peas, snap beans, and butter beans, all of it with cornbread. Beans, beans, beans but we got full, and I love my grandfather for that.
Although it was a lot of us and we didn’t have much, my grandfather took care of us. I believe that was the time my mother went back to college to get her associate degree. When she went to college, we (my younger sister and I) spent more time at my granddad’s house. I used to hear members of the family say that my mother was the first of her siblings to go to college some seemed happy as I was for my mom, and some of her siblings seemed envious of my mom. Sometimes I felt like they had something against her because whenever they got mad at her for whatever reason they took it out on me and my sister.
I remember when my uncle used to come in the house drunk, we would be sitting at the table, and he would be so mean to us. He would hit us, thump us on our head, knock us out our chairs and eat our food. My grandfather didn’t like him doing that to us. He started getting tired of my uncle hitting us and making us cry. One day he said he couldn’t take it no more, so he grabbed his ax, he had hidden in the basement, and chopped my uncle in his forehead. My uncle fell to his knees with his hands holding the blood that poured out. I believe that incident traumatized me. It was horrible.
My grandfather left after that and went into hiding. Later, we found out he was staying in his shed for three days. The shed was hooked on to the basement. You could enter it from the inside of the house or from the outside. The shed is where my grandfather would snap off the neck of live chickens. He would buy them, pluck off the feathers, wash and season then put it in a big pot and cook them.
Sometimes in the evening while waiting on our dinner to be cooked, we would all go to the park as a group, and the kids would always bully us, throw sand in our hair, and face and sometimes beat us up. We would always go to my granddad’s house crying. We would tell both my uncles, sometimes they would go up there and come back stating they were gone by the time they got there and sometimes they were too drunk to go anywhere. I sometimes felt unprotected with no stability or security in my life because of the back and forth of moving in with family members and even though I had a big family I felt there was no togetherness. It was like we all just protected our own and it got worse as we got older. I only remember a few times we stuck together as a family and my grandfather did the best that he could. My mother ended up getting her associate degree and we got the good news, we were moving.
When my mother moved on 13 th street, we stayed two houses from big mama and big daddy, they were husband and wife, and big mama was my grandmother’s sister and big daddy was my grandmother’s brother-in-law on my biological father side. I used to love to go to my big mama’s and big daddy’s house and play with my cousins. In the back of the house there was a huge alley where all the kids would meet up and play, that was our playground.
We used to stay in trouble. One time we saw big daddy’s friend walking in the alley, and we threw water on his head. We were told to stay in the gate, and we would still go out. At times, we would ask to go to a friend’s house; the rule was to come home before the streetlights came on, but we’d exceed that almost every time. We even would pull fruits and veggies from big mamma’s garden but, whenever we were caught, big daddy would line us up one by one and whoop us with a razor strap. But that didn’t stop us because we kept on getting in trouble. One day he whooped me so bad, my nose started bleeding. After