Daniel's and John's Recovery Page

... about me

From my earliest memories all I could remember is abuse. The abuse I endured took all forms:

RAPE
INCEST
SEXUAL ABUSE
PHYSICAL ABUSE
PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE
EMOTIONAL ABUSE
SPIRITUAL ABUSE

One or more of these forms of abuse occurred daily in my life growing up.

... my family

My "family unit" consisted of my mother, my father, and my half-brother (as well as myself).

My "father" (James William Tatum) started the wholesale division of Mark C. Bloome tire, and made the type of income that one would expect of a "Vice President" of a corporation. But, he refused to pay anything other than the house payment, car payment, and insurance on the house and car (as required by the lenders).

My mother (Joni Tatum), had to work on the orders of my "father", if she wanted to have utilities, food, or clothing for herself or her children. She started out working as a cosmetologist ("Hair Dresser"), and at the time of my birth in 1968, she was working as a nurses aide... shortly after I was born she started working as a nurse in Labor and Delivery. She only worked on the "Graveyard Shift" (Approximately 11pm to 7am) seven days a week... so that she could be with my half-brother and myself during our waking hours. We were able to live "comfortably" in an upper middle class lifestyle.

My half-brother (James Daniel Brown "Tatum") who is 9 years old my senior was never really a part of my life. He had his school activities of being on the football and track teams, and he was always out with his friends and he was almost never home. The only time I was ever close to him, was when he had a motorcycle accident in 1978. He was sent home "early" (after he had 16 surgeries and had been in the hospital for about 6 months), because my mother was a Critical Care Nurse. He was still in quite critical condition. But my mother had to continue to work, so I had to take care of all of his care (including care of his temporary colostomy, his two chest tubes, as well as bathing him, changing his sheets, and making his meals). This was a big task for a 10 year old, but I was more than "up to the task".

... abuse

Since my mother was working the "Graveyard Shift", she would usually leave home around 10pm. My brother was usually staying with his friends, and was almost never home.

My "father" would usually return home after my mother left for work, and he would leave usually before she returned home. This means that I was usually home alone for anywhere from a half-hour to 3 hours before he would come home. Then almost like clockwork, my sleep would be interrupted, and the abuse would begin.

The physical abuse would usually only occur on the times he was angry (I.E. when I was about 5 years old he slammed both of my thumbs in the front door to our apartment, in fact my thumbnails never grew back properly; when I was a bit older we were to meet my mother at the Main Street Electrical Parade at Disneyland, but he preferred to watch the fireworks which started at the same time, and he held me by the wrist until it turned a blue-black color; another "prime example" was when we were having a "family picnic" at Yorba Regional Park, the County park across the street from our tract of homes...the sodas that we carried over to the park were shaken a bit, and when I opened one, it sprayed all over the place... I was admitted to Canyon General Hospital with a concussion after that). I had numerous concussions (more than can be counted on both hands), as well as cuts, bruises, et cetera. Back when I was growing up in the 1970's there were not really much in the way of "child abuse" laws on the books at the time. So my father had "Carte Blanche" to do whatever he wanted to do.

The Incest was indescribable. It occurred at least a few times a week. He had the size, and power to do all of these things when I was young, and as I grew older the damage had already been done. So the abuse continued until I bodily threw him out the front door of the house at age 12 (my father was about 5'8" 150 pounds at the time, and I was 6'2" 176 pounds at the time... this sounds like a sizable difference, but around age 7, I started to develop the weakness in my legs that led to my having to use crutches and leg braces as well as a wheelchair by the time I graduated from high school).

There was a degree of psychological and emotional abuse involved in all the different forms of abuse. This is the only area that my mother also had a part in. I had very little self-worth, and I never really felt love. The word "love" and the phrase "I love you" were thrown around quite a bit... but the actions were not there. I never felt the gentle touch of a hand, I was never comforted when I was hurt, I was never hugged as a sign of love. In fact, I never learned what the word "love" meant within our family.

The sexual abuse, which involved more along the lines of inappropriate behavior that dealt more with touching than the parental "rape" that my father inflicted a few times a week. This occurred more often than the incest, and it was more "painful" because it was more of a "gentle touch", something more "loving" but without any love whatsoever. This was something that happened almost daily (at a minimum it was 5 days a week).

I was raped on two different occasions. One occurred while I was hospitalized. An adult male was placed in the same room as I was (a definite violation of hospital policy to have an adult and someone under 18 in the same room). I woke up with him under the covers of my bed, and holding me down on the bed with my face in the pillow so I could not scream. The hospital was notified the very next morning, and all they did was contact the other patients doctor, and he met me in a conference room and showed me the rapists diver's license (while covering up the name and address), when I made a positive ID, the doctor started screaming at me and told me that it was impossible. Then I requested to be discharged immediately, and my request was granted..... The other time that I was raped was when I was in my wheelchair going toward my car. I was grabbed from behind, and I never saw my attacker. I was raped, beaten, and left unconscious. I woke up, noticed that I was not seriously injured (requiring a hospitalization or ER visit), and then I got into my car and headed home. I then made excuses to my mother about a fall, when I was asked about my injuries.

The spiritual abuse occurred when I went to the pastor of the church I was then attending. I told him about the rapes, and all he could say was "Did you enjoy it? You know, if you did that makes you a homosexual", "At least you can not get pregnant". He was a person who would get upset if you were to disturb him during a meeting. But during our meeting, we were interrupted constantly and he would ask me to leave his office so he could "handle more important matters". Eventually, I located the priest that was the pastor of my parish when I was growing up. He was one who was able to give me the support and guidance I needed. There were other "minor" times of spiritual abuse that occurred in my experience, ones where the pastor's advice and council were in sharp conflict with the Bible and with the teachings of the Church. So I had to determine my own path, and had to learn how to walk in the path that the Lord has set before me.

... my disability

Growing up I was always somewhat weak. I was never really active. The disability came very slowly... I had severe knee pain without swelling... eventually I started losing feeling in my legs below the knees. I soon was unable to walk unassisted without falling. I can move around somewhat on my own as long as I have something to hold on to (such as a wall). I can ambulate very short distances, as long as I watch exactly where my feet are going at all times.

Most people would be upset with a disability that progressed somewhat during what would normally be the most active part of ones life. But to me it was actually a great level of freedom. I was finally able to participate in a more active life. I was able to get around much faster with a wheelchair than I could do on my feet. For the first time I was able to participate in sports with rather little pain.

I have had more than my share of physical problems, including Incomplete Paralysis (and the problems that come with paralysis), Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Osteoarthritis, Narrow Angle Glaucoma, Migraine Headaches, as well as having 2 Myocardial Infarctions ("Heart Attack"). The MI's were what lead to my "retirement" in February of 1989.

But the Lord definitely had a purpose in my life. Even with all that has happened I have finally had a time that I could start working in the service of the Lord. Including the APOSTOLATE FOR OUR LADY, that is linked toward the end of this page. I also strongly feel led to a life of full-time service to the Lord. The doors have not yet opened, but I am sure they will in the Lord's time.

... how I learned love

Many years ago, I started doing volunteer work. I worked with groups such as the March of Dimes, the Muscular Dystrophy Association, United Cerebral Palsy, the National Foundation of Wheelchair Tennis (both at their Jr. Wheelchair Sports Camps as well as the US Open of Wheelchair Tennis), the AIDS Services Foundation of Orange County (through the "Live On Stage" program), Church programs, Scouting, and many other programs.

Every year, when I was working, I would schedule my vacation time during the week prior to Easter each year. This was so that I could volunteer at the NFWT Wheelchair Sports Camp. Many times I had to threaten to quit my jobs when some sort of "emergency" would occur and my employer would "change their mind" and tell me that I can not have the time off. But when they found out that they had a choice to give me my agreed upon vacation time, or I would quit... the "emergency" would somehow resolve itself.

Having one child say "thank you" for doing the simple act of opening a door for them, fixing a wheelchair, helping them go to the bathroom, or getting their meals... and having them truly mean it... would truly show complete love and compassion. This week each year would be a time that I would work harder than I have ever done before... and I would be sore and exhausted each night... but the fulfillment and love that I received was worth more than any amount of money could replace.

In my service to my fellow man, I have learned what truly matters. The minimum standard for my life can be found in any "Red Letter" edition of the Bible. I fully believe that if everyone were to follow ONLY the words of God that are found in the "Red Letters"... that this would be a much better place. This is something that I strive to do during my every waking moment.

... gifts of God

The Lord has given me a number of gifts. These are gifts that I have been able to use in all aspects of my life. The gifts are as follows:

COMPASSION FOR OTHERS
EMPATHY
TEACHING
COUNSELING
PUBLIC SPEAKING
FAITH

These gifts in one form or another have been able to allow me to serve my fellow man, and in return I have obtained peace and love, as well as all of the graces the Lord can bestow upon me. The more that I give the more that I receive, and vice-versa. My "cup" never "overflows", because I keep sharing it with others... the more that it is "filled" the more that I have to give.

While a lesser man may have lost their faith I have remained strong in the dual aspect of my faith. One my Jewish heritage, of which I have great pride since my maternal bloodline escaped the severe anti-semitism of pre-World War Two Europe, and the faith that I was raised in as a Roman Catholic (my mother's side of the family converted to the Roman Catholic faith, and my paternal bloodline has been Roman Catholic since time in memorial). These are both areas where I am very orthodox in faith and practice, and are very strong parts of my life. It helps explain the very traditional and conservative values that have helped me remain strong in times of major adversity.

... whatever else

I am here to help anyone to the best of my ability. If you are in need of a friend to talk to, or a "shoulder to cry on"... or if you would like to have someone who has gone through difficult times and perhaps can share some advice and guidance, please feel free to contact me anytime.

My favorite links

• http://home.att.net/~JBT-DMC/home.html - Daniel's and John's Homepage
• http://home.att.net/~JBT-DMC/apostolate.html - An Apostolate for Our Lady
• http://home.att.net/~JBT-DMC/links.html - Daniel's and John's Links Page
• http://home.att.net/~JBT-DMC/JohnsMedicalHistory.html - Return To John's Medical History Page

To contact me

John Benjamin Tatum
99 Dawson Avenue
Mansfield, Ohio 44906-3201
United States of America
(419) 524-8337

To email me

JBT-DMC@worldnet.att.net