Tscup’s Book Club

Here is another one of my shocking & unbelievable experiences; I witnessed while growing up in a very dysfunctional & alcoholic environment. Who else witnessed a homicide at a very young age; like I did? I could of witnessed 3 of them if I woke up my dad the 1st time; I went downstairs.

Growing up when my parents use to drink & party a lot; I know I witnessed a murder in front of my eyes. I remember; this one incident so vividly just like it happened; yesterday. I was about 3 or 4 years old when my parents brought home a huge party. We still lived in this wartime house in lil Chicago; in Meadow Lake. Anyways, those times we couldn't go downstairs when they partied. So this specific evening; we all stayed upstairs & got ready for bed on the floor. Since we never had no beds too sleep on. Anyways; that evening; I decided to sleep with my brothers in our hallway which was located right in the middle of the 2 bedrooms upstairs. There was Jerry on my right side. Then me and my late brother Ronnie on the left. Plus; I think, it was either my sister Joanne or maybe it was both my younger twin siblings Joanne and Joey sleeping with us on the feet. Anyways; while we were all sleeping upstairs; I heard this creaking noise coming up the stairs real slowly in the middle of the night about 3-4 am. Everyone was sleeping or passed out downstairs. It was really quiet; anyways. The creaking noise continued & then I woke up my brotherJerry; by nudging him with my elbow on his ribs. Then I said; "Jerry somebody's trying to come upstairs." So he told me; “go downstairs & wake up dad & tell him.” So here I am; I quickly get out from under the blankets & run as fast as my 3-4 year old legs can go down the stairs. Running pass that old man. He didn't even see or hear me go past him. Then when I get downstairs. I seen all these people sleeping everywhere all over the floor. So I had to jump over some of them to rush to my parent's bedroom. Thinking my mom and my dad were both sleeping in there; I quickly open the door and I was shocked & still traumatized today every time I think of it. To see my mom bare naked; sitting on top of my uncle Fred. We all knew him by his nickname; which was Tsigweeneese. Of course; I didn't know what they were doing at the time. However; I knew better not too wake up my dad. Then I look around the living room & I seen him passed out; sitting up on the couch. Now; that I think about it; I’m pretty sure my mom or uncle drugged him why they were brave enough to make love while he was sleeping basically 2-3 feet away. I’m still so traumatized; I don’t know what to do. So I decided to go run quickly back upstairs. By jumping over all the bodies again. I zoom real fast pass the old geezer. He didn't hear or see me; again. Then I go under the blankets next to my brother. He then asked me; “did I wake up dad?” I didn't say anything. I am just waiting for my uncle to leave my parent's bedroom. Then when I heard the door creak; I go zooming back downstairs; as fast as my little body could run; again and wake up my dad by shaking him vigorously. When I finally wake him up; I said; dad somebody crawling upstairs trying to bother us. Oh my goodness; you should of seen my dad. Bolt right up; like a mean old bear. Protecting his cubs. He quickly wakes up & runs upstairs; as fast as he could. Here I am tagging along to try keep up with him. Then when he see that ole man still crawling upstairs. He grabs him & carries him up the stairs and starts beating him up; right there; in front of all of us. I can't recall who was all up at the time; with Jerry & I. Then when my dad knocks him out. He then drags his body to the bedroom window; opens it & throws his body out the window like a rag doll like that was normal. Shuts it & tell us not too look outside. Those time; these wartime houses were 2-3 stories high. Of course me; I went too peek out the window; stepping on my tippy toes, to look outside. Making sure my dad don’t see me. They don't call me; Tscup for nothing. When my dad gets outside; he continues too beat the ole man; viciously up again. Then next thing; I seen him dragging the ole man's body to the side of the house into the bush. I am positive; I witnessed a murder that morning. I'm sure my dad killed that ole man because when he came back inside; this is what he said; I could still hear him say!! "That son of bitch will never bother you guys; again!! I made dam sure of it!!" Back in those days; there was no such thing; as missing or murdered investigations. Plus; this guy was known as one of the town drunks. So I don’t think anybody missed him. There was no such thing as CSI’s. Or any kind of investigations when people went missing; in 1966 or 67. I’m pretty sure my dad went buried that guy’s body later on. Anyways, I've never shared this story with anyone. I kept it a secret all these years.

Can you imagine what would of happened; if I woke up my dad when I caught my mom on top of my uncle? I am positive now; I would have witnessed 3 homicides that morning. So all those years; when my mom use too beat me; I've never blackmailed her. Until the morning; I finally stood up to her & threatened to run away when I was about 15 or 16 year old. That was when I finally had the courage to confront her. I told this was going to be the last time you beat me up because after that I am going to tell dad what I seen you & uncle doing when I was about 3 or 4 years old. I explained what I saw. Then I said; only reason; I never said; anything to anyone was because if I could of woke up dad; that morning; he would of killed you both; as well. She just went really quiet & from that moment on; I knew that was going to be the last time she beat me. After that; I regretted the fact; I never black mailed her from the day she started whipping me; every night like a horse with my dad's belt!! I think I did that to protect her from getting beaten or killed by my dad.

However; I heard from my niece Corinne my mom continued seeing my uncle until they both passed away. She would tell my niece to wait in the vehicle while she went talked to her bank. That's what she use to call my uncle. Then I guess my mom would come out with enough money for them to play bingo.