The State House

I was born on September 30 1971, so my story is not from the ‘Bad old 1930,s and 40’s’ where violence was more acceptable. It is from a time when New Zealand Society was priding itself on becoming enlightened. We had a Social Welfare system and Child Protection Laws. Although we had these agencies and laws in place, they still could not save me from the traumatic abuse I would endure over the next twenty years at the hands of Calvin and Sharon, my biological parents.

I have little memory of my first four years of my life, so my story begins in May of 1976, when I was four and a half years old. We lived at number 46 Randwick Crescent, Moera, Lower Hutt, Wellington. I remember this house as the house of pain, because it was here, as a young child I suffered a great deal of traumatic abuse at the hands of Calvin and Sharon.

Number 46 Randwick Crescent was built in 1927 for the New Zealand Railways employee’s but after the depression in the 1930s, it was handed over to the State Housing Corporation who rented it out to families on low incomes. Looking at the pail green State house from the road, it appeared to be a well-maintained and clean house. With a small flower garden and well kept lawns, the inside however was a different story with dirty dishes crowding the sink and bench, the unmade beds in the three bedrooms and dirty clothes littering the bedroom floors.

My Mother, Sharon is an unsophisticated, simple, and I think it would be fair to say, that she was a bitter and angry woman. She was quite tall standing about 5’10 and weighing around 110 kg’s, Sharon wore thick slightly tinted glasses and had short brown curly hair. I could never understand why she was always angry and to this day, I will never know. She was quite a lonely woman and would only ever have one friend at a time, which was normally a neighbour or a woman from across the road. It was very rare her friends came to our house to visit, because our house always looked as if it had not been cleaned in months. I think, perhaps she was embarrassed about the tidiness of her house, at the same time she was too lazy to clean regularly.

Calvin was a very aggressive and violent man; He was a solid man standing about 5’11 and weighing about 90 kg’s. He had straight brown long hair and rough-dry skin, I believe his skin was quite dry and flaky because he would only bath once every two or three months, sometimes longer. He always had a distinctive smell to him, a cross between grease from the factory he worked in and body odour. Calvin was also a lonely man with only one or two friends, normally drinking buddies, he was an alcoholic from an early age, drinking most nights after work, and every weekend, the booze would always fuel his violent temper. To this day, I could never bring myself to call Calvin and Sharon my Father and Mother. So on very rare occasions about once a year, when I speak to my Brothers and Sisters I refer to Calvin and Sharon as, ‘your Mother’, and ‘your Father.’ For many years I have asked myself the same question ‘why me? What have I done so wrong to be treated like this?’ no matter how difficult they may be or how naughty they are no child deserves to be treated the way I was. I remember I would often question myself from a young age, am I a bad boy. Or do they just hate me? I would never find the answer.

In 1976, I was attending the Riley Kindergarten, which was just across the road from our Randwick Crescent State owned house. My Sister Lynette whom is eighteen months older than me she was attending Randwick Primary School. My Brother Cory was two years old at this time. Calvin and Sharon were in their early twenties and because they both had no qualifications and poor schooling, they would be in and out of various Factory jobs earning Minimum wages.

Sharon would return to the workforce in between having babies, which she could barely cope with. I believe she went to work for two reasons, the first was so she could get away from the screaming babies, secondly, they needed to boost their income in order to buy new stereos and televisions. By the time I was fifteen I had lost count on the many televisions and stereos we had owned. They were both very materialistic people, who would rather have a nice car and T.V instead of buying clothes for their children. My clothes were bought from second hand clothing shops or were hand downs from neighbours, buying new clothes would mean there would be less money for Calvin to buy his alcohol and cigarettes, or for his T.V and car repayments. Both Calvin and Sharon were heavy smokers; they would both smoke a pack a day, Sharon would eventually give up smoking several years later. Their smoking and the fact they would leave their smokes and matches lying around would result in me receiving one of the most unforgettable beatings of my life, it wasn’t the first nor would it be the last. The sad part is that it could have been the last beating if Social Welfare workers were not incompetent in doing their job.

Out of the three of us kids, I was the only child who did not suffer from Asthma and I was generally the healthiest. I often wondered if this was the reason Calvin would use me as his personal punching bag, or was it the fact Lynette and Cory were both blondes and I had ginger hair. Maybe he felt Sharon had an affair when I was conceived. I will never know. I had always felt like the odd one out, the only child with red hair, the only child who would be beaten regularly and hated. By both Calvin and Sharon.

Its Sunday 23rd May 1976, Lynette was suffering from a mild Asthma attack, so that evening Calvin and Sharon decided to take her to the Lower Hutt Hospital for relief. It was dark as we pull into the Hospital Car park, ‘Wait in the car Robert and don’t fucking touch anything!’ Calvin demanded. After waiting for what seemed hours I was becoming very board, so I decided to climb over to the front seat so I could sit in driver’s seat and pretend to drive the car. I placed both my hands on the steering wheel and I was moving it from left to right; “this is cool,” I thought to myself. Glancing down I noticed Sharon had left her smokes and matches on her seat. I picked up the packet and took a smoke from it; curious I placed the unlit cigarette in my mouth. ‘I am just like my Dad,’ I thought to myself as I was pretending to drive the car with a smoke hanging out of my mouth, Out of curiosity, I lit the smoke without knowing about the consequences if Calvin and Sharon caught me.

As I inhaled my first puff I began to cough and splutter, it felt like I was going to throw up, I thought my mouth was on fire. I quickly threw the rest of the smoke out the car window, as I was doing that I could not believe my eyes when I noticed Calvin, Sharon, and the kids were heading towards the car. Quickly winding up the window I climbed over the seat into the back where I was when they had left me, making out that I had been in the back seat all the time they were gone. Lynette and Cory joined me in the back seat Sharon closing the car door behind them. As Sharon got into the car, ‘look,’ she said to Calvin, directing his attention to the smoke packet that had somehow fallen on the floor, they both sniffed the Smokey air in the car.

‘You’ve been fucking playing with your Mothers smokes haven’t you?’ Calvin yelled, ‘No,’ I replied. ‘Yes you fucking have you little asshole!’ he said. Knowing I had been busted and lying was not going to help me. I knew I had to tell the truth. ‘Yes I was playing with them,’ I said in my little squeaky four-year-old frightened voice, ‘Wait until we get home you little cunt, you are going to get a fucking good hiding!’ Calvin yelled. I was so scared. If I had not been sitting in between Lynette and Cory, I probably would have jumped from the moving car. Whenever Calvin wanted to scare me he would yell until his face went bright red, I must say it worked, seeing the look on his face would terrify me The Lower Hutt Hospital was just under a ten-minute drive back to Randwick Crescent, Moera, and it was one of the most terrifying drives I had as a little boy. ‘What’s going to happen when we get home Robert?’ Calvin would bark every minute or so. ‘I’m going to get a hiding’ I replied, I was scared shitless. ‘We are almost there!’ Calvin said, the closer we got, tormenting me and making me scared and afraid of him.

I knew, once we had crossed the Woburn/Moera Bridge it would be only a matter of a minute or so before I would be beaten. Calvin would torment me all the way home, even as he pulled alongside our house to reverse up the driveway, ‘Where are we Robert?’ he asked with a grin on his ugly face, as if he was getting excited and could not wait to take his anger out on me, ‘We are home.’ I replied. I was so scared I almost wet my pants. I had barely made it through the front door of the house, when I felt Calvin’s hands on my back pushing me in. I fell flat on my face on the wooden hallway floor. Sharon was ahead rushing Lynette and Cory into their bedrooms. She too seemed to be excited when it was time for me to get a hiding. This was something I could never forget. This Woman was suppose to love me unconditionally, she was my Mother, it was her job to protect me and keep me from harm.

‘Come here Sharon’, Calvin barked as he had me pinned to the floor with his size ten work boot pressing down hard on my back so I couldn’t move. Within a few seconds, Sharon had returned, automatically replacing her foot with Calvin’s, as if it had been rehearsed so many times in the past. Calvin did not waste any time as he ripped the thick leather belt from his jeans; he handed the belt to Sharon to hold while he pulled my pants down exposing my bare bottom, By this time I was already kicking and screaming, knowing the pain I was about to receive was going to be unbearable. It was like deja vu, and I knew this was not the first belting I had received from Calvin. I vaguely remember two other beatings I received prior to this one. However, this was the first time I had been pinned to the floor as Calvin stood tall and using all the force he could muster to belt my bare ass with his leather belt. I felt the belt five times before almost passing out from the pain, I was sure my screams could be heard from miles away. Calvin finally stopped after about eight strikes. I remember Sharon saying, ‘Don’t leave too many marks Calvin. ‘You won’t play with fucking smokes and matches again, will you?’ Calvin said as I was picking myself up of the floor, ‘I hope you have learned a lesson?’ Sharon added. ‘Yes’ I said, still crying from the beating I had just endured. ‘Now fuck off to bed!’ Calvin ordered. I was struggling to walk to my bedroom, shivers ran down my spine when I heard the voice I fared so much. ‘Oh, Robert, if you mention this to anyone including your teacher, you will get another fucking good hiding! Do you understand me?’ ‘Yes Dad,’ I replied. I climbed into bed quite exhausted from the beating I had just received, pulled the blankets over my face, and cried myself to sleep.

The following day, I could barely sit down at Kindergarten, my lower back, buttocks and thighs were covered in bruises. As warned, I said nothing to anyone including my Teacher.

‘Are you alright Robert?’ my teacher asked me, I was about to say no, then I quickly remembered Calvin’s last words after my beating last night, Yes, I’m ok,’ I replied to my teacher. I was not sure why she had asked if I was, ok, perhaps she sensed that something was not right. Three days had passed after my horrific beating; I was playing with toys on the floor at Kindy when the teacher approached me, ‘Robert could you come with me please?’ Miss Bowen quietly asked, before leading me to her office.

‘I have seen your back Robert and I would like to have closer look.’ She said. I reluctantly lifted my shirt and pulled my shorts down, so my back and bottom could be examined by my teacher, ‘Oh my goodness, did your Mum do this to you?’ Miss Bowen asked, ‘No, it was my Dad,’ I replied, ‘but please don’t tell anyone,’ I begged. ‘Sorry Robert it’s my duty to tell Social Welfare when a child gets hurt!’ the kindergarten teacher said ‘But my Dad said, I will get another hiding if I tell anyone,’ I explained ‘It will be ok Robert; your Dad won’t do this to you again.’ She assured me. The following day Social Welfare came to visit Sharon, they found her across the road, visiting the woman whom would often look after us kids when Sharon was working. After a brief meeting, the Social Welfare asked Sharon to tell Calvin no to hit me too hard in the future, and that was the end of this matter as far as the Welfare were concerned.

Miss Bowen was only following procedures when she informed on Calvin and Sharon, but little did she know, her efforts to protect me would only land me in more trouble and another beating. Although that beating was not as severe as the previous, Calvin still wanted to teach me a lesson for telling on him. This visit from Social Welfare was not going to stop Calvin or Sharon from beating me, if anything, it only made matters worse. From then on Calvin would hit me where the bruises would not be noticeable to any of my teachers.

After my fifth birthday in September of 1976, I joined Lynette at Randwick Primary school in Moera. From what I remember, I enjoyed my brief time at that school. I had managed to make a couple of friends, and when I was in school, I felt safe. I knew Calvin could not beat me up while I was in school. That was until one day, about five months after I had started attending Randwick Primary.

We had been back at school for a couple of weeks after the 1976/77 Christmas holidays, when there was a knock on our classroom door. My heart began to pound so hard I thought it was going to pop out of my chest when Calvin walked in to our class and approached my teacher. Why is he here? I thought to myself. I know I have not done anything wrong lately. I had tried hard to be a good boy, after the massive belting I received the night we went to the Hospital.

‘Robert, your Dad would like to talk with you outside for a minute,’ Miss Cooper said, in her softly spoken voice. I slowly stood up and made my way to the door where Calvin was now waiting for me. We walked to the end of the classroom block in silence before we disappeared around the corner, out of sight of the rest of the classrooms. ‘Where is it, Robert?’ Calvin demanded to know, I had no idea what he was talking about; I was not a good mind reader at five years old. ‘I don’t know what you mean Dad,’ I replied.

‘Where is the fucking money from my bedroom?’ he asked, this time his voice was slightly raised. I could see he was becoming quite angry at this point, but I still had no idea what it was, he wanted me to tell him because I knew nothing about any money.

‘I don’t know Dad,’ I protested. Within a second of my reply, his hand connected the left side of my head. As he slapped my head, I instantly lost my balance and fell to the ground. I was boiling my eyes out, as I was lying on the concrete. ‘Get up and stop fucking crying you little girl,’ Calvin said, as he walked off, leaving me standing there trying to understand what had just happened. I quickly composed myself before walking back into class, I paused at the door before going in wiping my eyes again to make sure there were no visible tears.

‘Is everything alright Robert?’ Miss Cooper asked as I entered the class, ‘Yes,’ I replied, knowing I could not tell her the truth or I would be in for another hiding if Calvin found out I was telling on him again. I found it hard to concentrate for the rest of that afternoon. Not only I was scared that perhaps Calvin was not yet finished with me, but my left ear was very sore and I could hear a strange ringing noise in it.

I waited at the school gate for Lynette that afternoon, as I would always do, so we could both walk home together. As we began our ten-minute walk to the house of pain in Randwick Crescent, I told Lynette about my surprise visit from Calvin. ‘I know, he came to see me first, and asked if I had seen the $10.00 he left on Mum’s dressing table,’ Lynette informed me.

‘I didn’t go in their room this morning,’ I explained to Lynette. ‘I know you didn’t go into their room Robert, maybe it was the baby sitter?’ Lynette suggested. I think she often felt sorry for me after I had been beaten from either Calvin or Sharon. She would often come into my room to comfort me, and tell me everything will be all right if I tried harder to be a good boy. I begged Lynette that afternoon to tell Sharon when she gets home from work, that maybe Mary the babysitter had stolen the money.

Mary would look after us from 7 a.m. until 9 a.m. and then from 3 p.m. until 5 p.m. when Calvin and Sharon would return home from work. In the mornings, she would make sure we made our lunches and left for school on time. In the afternoons she would make sure we arrived home from school safely and prepare the evening meal for us. Lynette waited until I was washing the dishes after dinner that night before she told Sharon that perhaps the babysitter had stolen the $10.00. Sharon would always take the time to listen to Lynette. Mary babysat for another two days after the money went missing and we would not see her again. I later learned that Calvin had set a trap for her. He left some money out of reach from us kids, but insight, so Mary would see it and sure enough, it too had disappeared.

I felt sad, I tried to tell my Father that it was not me who stole his money, and I did not understand why he would not believe me. I was blamed and punished for something I had not done, this would become life as I knew it growing up in the Claridge household.

T.V 1's Close Up programme.

Watch T.V interview from 22nd Nov 07.