Hephzibah House Journal

Hephzibah House Journal
Susan Grotte's journal from her experience as a student at Hephzibah House, told in short-story form.

Saturday, September 21, 2019


My question is why??? No one is listening.

Every women that went there has to same story no matter what years. I graduated in 1984. I got whatever that paper was that said I was done. One of the happiest days. I never even told my parents because I did want them to feel guilty. I just kept in all inside. Unsure how I feel about opening this box with no changes still. Very Very sad .  

I got out of Hephzibah House and I completely blocked everything that happen there from my mind. First, I never thought any one would believe it and I needed to move past it. For the longest I thought I deserved it.
I can only remember was actually happened to me and not really all of that. I can tell you every thing I remember.

I was one of the girl workers. I remember laying tile in the big house. Gardening, you could not miss a bean or blue room. 
My bunk was right above that blue room. I could hear every girl that had to go there every single night. Praying my name would not be called.
I remember only one black girl she didn't stay long she was pregnant. 
I remember awful tales of past students who got out and didn't make it. I don't know if there was any truth to that other to just scare me more.
I remember I was not allowed to be friends with anyone because we were to bad for that. I remember not knowing if I could even trust the other girls for fear they may tell something on me. I remember Don Williams being bad and the awful sermon that night. This was before he married the younger house mother there her name started with a W.
I remember my feet turning all the way blue from working out in the cold so long. I remember my back side being black and blue then yellow for weeks. It hurt to sit down. These are just a few of my on personal memories.  

Patricia Stewart Parker

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