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| Angie Rice with daughters Kassie Roland, 4, and Kristin Rice, 5. |
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Friday, July 11, 2008
By Angie Rice
Special to SHE magazine
As a former reporter and freelance writer, I have written my fair share
of headlines. Some good, some bad. Yet as I look back on the past year, I
cannot help but contemplate the anniversary of my own headline in The
Cuba Free-Press in Cuba, Mo. The headline stated: "Former TRP reporter
survives stabbing." Reading it even now almost feels like I am reading
it about someone else and not myself.
The lead of the story written by Chris Case was straightforward enough:
"Former Three Rivers Publishing reporter Angie Fodge is recovering from
the stab wounds she received last week during a violent knife attack by
her husband. The woman was seriously injured in the attack, but
miraculously did not suffer any permanent or life-threatening wounds."
It was a beautiful morning in Cuba on July 27. Although sad, I was
packing up and moving back home to Southeast Missouri. It was the place I
had called home since I was young. My husband and I had discussed the
matter, and he seemed fine with the idea. He was a truck driver and
could live anywhere. My 3-year-old daughter was happy because she would
be closer to her father, my ex-husband. We had just settled an
almost-two-year custody battle, and we were looking forward to the
prospects ahead.
That morning my husband was eager to help load the car for us. He had
been home for a week and was scheduled to go back out on his truck for a
little while longer. The week had been rough. He had come home and
threatened to kill me on Wednesday. We had been arguing a lot. But I had
somehow settled him down and thought if I could get him back on the
truck on Friday, all would be well.
I was wrong.
As we were driving to a local truck stop, my then-husband drove past it
without saying a word. I asked him where we were going, while I had my
finger on the button to roll down the window. I was scared. This was not
the first time he had threatened my life. I was so tired that morning
of struggling with him all week and hoping and praying that everything
would be OK.
As he drove with my little girl asleep in the back seat, he looked over
at me and told me he bought a machete at Wal-Mart the day before and
that he was going to kill me because I was a "[screw]-up."
He looked at me and hit me in the face.
I reached for my cell phone and began dialing 911. He pulled out a
4-inch serrated-blade pocketknife. It was one I had bought him for
Christmas. He started cutting little places in my hand, while he pried
the phone from it. He threw the phone out the window.
What happened next seems like a blur. The news report stated he stabbed
me several times in the back, head and neck. One of the places he
stabbed me was in my right temple. That must have been the last place
because he said, "You're dead. You're already dead, and you don't even
know it."
The news report said, "The couple's three-year-old daughter was asleep
in the back seat of the car at the time of the stabbing."
She woke up but stayed quiet. Later she would tell me she played
hide-and-seek because she was scared. At the time I fought my husband
because I knew I had to try to stay alive for her.
As he stabbed me the last time, I felt dizzy. I slumped over the side of
the seat I was in. There was blood everywhere. The next thing I knew he
was turning the car around and telling me he had to take me to the
hospital. The report said when he realized what happened he dialed 911
from his cell phone. Luckily, we had more than one in the car that
morning. He told the dispatcher he had stabbed his wife and was driving
her to the local hospital. It was 16 miles away. Then he looked at me.
"I am sorry, baby. I will get you to the hospital. I am going to jail,
but you are going to live."
We pulled into the emergency room and a nurse came and put me in a
wheelchair. I screamed for them to take care of my daughter and someone
said she would be OK.
I was admitted and prepped for surgery following questioning by the
police. The surgery was really just exploratory to stitch my wounds and
make sure there was no permanent damage. I had lost a lot of blood, but
luckily there was not permanent damage. I woke up after coming out of
surgery in tears as a child who has awoken from a nightmare would. Some
days I still feel the exact same way.
My now ex-husband was taken away by the Crawford County sheriff's
deputies. He was later charged with first-degree domestic assault with
serious intent to harm and armed criminal action. If convicted, he faces
up to 10 to 30 years on the assault charge and a minimum of three years
on the armed criminal action charge.
Reports say he said he didn't remember anything. He had a long history
of mental illness. I wasn't sure, but I thought he probably had stopped
taking his medication for bipolar disorder. But I always thought I could
help him if I loved him enough. I was wrong.
The police had confiscated the car and found the weapon. A friend of
mine graciously had the car cleaned for me before I picked it back up.
There was no trace of the incident that had occurred.
I was released from the hospital the following day. My father from
Vanduser, Mo., and his wife had come to pick me up and bring me home. I
could not have survived the first week home without them. They offered
me solitude and a place to heal away from all the chaos.
Although the police had found the knife I was stabbed with, they had
neglected to search the entire car. A month later as I was unpacking
groceries, I found a Wal-Mart bag with a receipt dated July 26, 2007. It
listed razors, soap and machete as items that had been purchased. As I
looked further in the trunk, I found the new machete that my now
ex-husband had planned to kill me with.
Although my wounds healed within a matter of months, the nightmares come
sometimes even now. I sought help from counselors, friends and support
from the Safe House for Women outreach office in Cape Girardeau. Some
days are better than others. I will read another headline or see
something on the news that will remind me of the incident, and it will
bring it all back.
Today, I am still a freelance reporter and my daughter is happier and
healthier than ever. I have just received a scholarship from the
Allstate Foundation to go back to college with the assistance of Betty
Brown and Linda Garner of the Safe House for Women. I plan to use this
experience to pursue a career helping others who have gone through
similar situations. Life is looking up.
I have made a choice to move forward with my life for myself and my
daughters. On my way to the hospital that day, I prayed that God would
let me live so I could teach my daughters not to make the same choices I
did. The man who tried to take my life sits in the Crawford County Jail
awaiting trial.
This year I have talked with many in the criminal justice field who
refer to people like me as a victim. I have started correcting them and
saying I am not a victim anymore but a survivor. So this year, on July
27, I will celebrate being a survivor. I will not take life for granted,
and I will resolve to tell my story to those who may need to hear it. I
know I am not the only one with a story to tell.
GET HELP
If you or someone you love are future "survivors" of domestic violence,
there is help. It is confidential, free and safe. Sometimes it just helps to talk to
someone who listens and is understanding.
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7223)
TYY: 1-800-787-3224
