soaremy
kids!I’mthriving
and
Suddenly,
I realised
whoKenny
reminded
meof...
WORDS:
EMILY
JANUSZEWSKI,
FRANCES
LEATE.
PHOTOS:
HOOK
NEWS
11
Withtwoofmy
kids,Morgan
andHannahKenny seemed
so kind and
sympatheticolder kids with family, and
took Ellis, then 5, to South
Carolina on holiday.
Sparks flew when Kenny
met us at the airport. He took
us walking in the national
park, swimming in the
beautiful lakes.
I fell in love with the peace,
tranquillity – and with Kenny.
I felt I’d known him forever.
Plus, not having to
constantly look over my
shoulder was such a relief.
Freedom.
‘Come back and marry me,’
Kenny gushed after three
blissful weeks together.
He promised to look after me,
and the kids, too.
So romantic.
And it would be a fresh start
for me, I thought.
I trusted Kenny. My knight
in shining armour.
And, when I spoke to the
kids, they were all for it, too.
So, in January 2011, I left
Wales with my four kids and
just a couple of suitcases.
When Kenny picked us up,
the kids were so excited.
‘Here we are,’ he beamed,
pulling up outside a secluded
bungalow he’d rented.
It was picture-perfect!
But, my romantic dream
quickly started
unravelling.
The house
was empty.
There
was no
heating,
no furniture,
no food in.
And Kenny
expected me
to pay
rent,even though I wasn’t working.
Over the next few weeks
I struggled to find my feet, sort
out school for the kids.
Kenny, a truck driver, soon
felt neglected.
‘You don’t have
time for me,’
he shrugged,
opening a beer.
I flinched.
Suddenly,
I realised
who Kenny
reminded me of.
Dale.
The man
I’d flown
halfway round the
world to forget.
As time went on,
the similarities
only got stronger.
Argumentative,
Kenny became
a nightmare
to live with.
A month after
the move, me and
the kids huddledin the bedroom, while Kenny
crashed around downstairs.
He’d been drinking vodka,
was shouting loudly.
‘You don’t love me!’ he
screamed drunkenly.
Curled in a ball on the
bed, I couldn’t believe this
was happening again.
‘I’m sorry!’ I wept to the kids.
Kenny stormed upstairs,
threw handfuls of my clothes
out of the window.
‘Come on, kids,’ I cried,
bundling them outside to my
hire car as Kenny punched
the bedroom wall in a rage.
But Kenny caught us up.
Grabbing me by the throat,
he threw me against the car.
‘Stop!’ I wheezed, as he
began to strangle me.
Pushing him, I broke free.
I got in the car, where the
kids were crying hysterically.
But my hands were shaking
so badly, I couldn’t get the key
in the ignition.
Kenny stood outside the
car, spitting at the windows.
Then a police car arrived.
The neighbours must’ve
heard the commotion and
called them.
‘Thank God!’ I wept, as
Kenny was arrested.
After, I felt so ashamed,
didn’t know what to do.
How could I be so stupid
again, I thought.
I’d dragged the kids
thousands of miles, and
straight into the arms of
another abusive drunk.
Thankfully, my new
neighbours were so kind.
Nicknamed me ‘Wales’, took
me shopping, lent me a van to
take the kids to school.
Then I discovered I could
apply for a special visa as a
victim of domestic violence – if
I gave evidence against Kenny.
And I felt safer being half
a world away from Dale.
So we decided to stay.
A month later, in March
2011, Kenneth Folk, 30, pleaded
guilty to criminal domestic
violence at Colleton County
Magistrate’s Court.
He was sentenced
to 18 months
probation and had
to attend a domestic
violence course.
It was over.
Life wasn’t easy,
but I began making
friends, putting
down roots.
Now I’m a very
successful woman,
working as a senior manager
for a supermarket chain.
The kids are happy.
Hannah, 23, is a pharmacy
technician, Morgan, 19, is
joining the Navy while Ellis,
14, is thriving at school.
I have everything I need.
It took two abusive
relationships, but I know
I won’t be pushed around
by a man ever again.