Living in Foster Homes Through a Church

In August 1981 having spent the summer being subjected to more of my dad's sexual abuse and having kept my sister Cindy updated the whole time as to the progression of his behavior, she and I went to a church agency in hopes of getting some help.

It was called AGAPE and it was a foster child placement agency where Church of Christ members take in abused and/or neglected children temporarily, sometimes leading to a permanent placement later. Although my sister and I had attended this particular church a few years earlier, we were not currently members but had no other resources at our disposal.

Having made the call to Cindy that summer day telling her that things with my dad had escalated to the point where I was in fear for my life and terrified that he was going to cross the line to intercourse with me, she and I now sat in the small lobby of AGAPE and waited to talk to a counselor. Numerous pictures lined the halls and walls in the building of happy familiies with their children and foster children.

Nervously we explained the situation and I was told I would be placed for three weeks with a couple who had two daughters until a permanent foster home could be found for me within the church.

It's all fuzzy as to how I managed to get away from my dad the day I left to move in with this family. I only know Cindy rescued me once again to take me to the agency, whose counselor would then drive me to my new temporary home close by the church.

The Letchworths were in their 40s and their little girls, Jill, 1, and another daughter, age 7, were avid churchgoers with their parents. Carol, the mom, was a homemaker and her husband Tom was a gentle, loving provider who reminded me of Mr. Cunningham from the show "Happy Days". Their older daughter was a feisty one with lots of energy and often lots of tantrums. Jill was adorable and had long blondish-brown hair and chipmunk cheeks, usually with a smile on her face. I still have a picture of her somewhere.