Sometime after I had talked with dad the first time, I passed the phone back to mom, and they made plans for me to meet dad for the first time in my memory. Sometime later that spring? I think 3-4 weeks after that first phone call, dad came to my house and picked me up in a little mini truck with a camper shell on it. ( I found out later that this wasn't the family camper, it was a buddy of his). We went camping at the littlerock reservoir , just out side of Palmdale Ca. We did some fishing and hiking, dad didn't talk much. I do remember him asking/telling me to do things around the campsite, and it felt very odd to me, I kept thinking he looked like my uncle Tim, moms brother. I didn't sleep very well that night, mainly because dad snored ALOT.
Sometime after that meeting, it was arranged that dad's whole family would come and pick me up, this must've been 4-6 weeks later, right after I got out of school. My mom and stepfather had bought a house in Lancaster ca in 1972, the place was huge , with 5 lawns and a pool. They all came up on a Saturday, where I met Bob, Rebel, Bill, & Steve. We all swam for a while, I was closest with Bob, as he was just a couple years older than I was. When we left in that camper, I remember thinking how on earth were we all going to fit? I learned real quick that everyone had a spot to sit or lay, as Bill and Steve automatically took the sleeper above the cab. After what seemed like 12 hours of driving, we arrived in San Diego at Murphy canyon. Murphy canyon, hmph, makes me smile just thinking about it. Over the course of the next 3-4 years, I would make regular trips down there, either flying down from Burbank, or taking the bus down there. Even though I enjoyed being down there, I always felt that I was having a hard time fitting in, I was an only child at my house, and the fact that you had to share everything with everyone else when with dad, was just foreign to me. What nobody knew, even dad, was that my life at my home was extremely stressful, as it became very apparent that my stepfather, was an abusive man. He was very violent with me and with mom, and we suffered almost daily with verbal or physical abuse, sometimes both. I remember Pat, my stepmom, being very frustrated with me because I was always acting out, getting into trouble, not listening to her. I was acting out because of the issues at my house, I was a kid and didn't know how to handle all this, I remember dad trying to discipline me, and me just ignoring him as well. Dad was still in the Marines and he was frustrated as well, he demanded respect, and got it from everyone but me. My time with dad and his family was always tulmotuis? For me. His family. I thought that about my siblings and Pat until after I went into the service myself. I always felt a disconnect between both of my lives that I lived with 2 different parents trying to figure out how to deal with me. Part 3 in a bit.