My Ruthy Doll's Story
"My brothers, sister and I, all grew up in a somewhat stable home that was full of love. However, no one’s family is perfect! Our
father was raised on a farm in the Midwest and was a good man who many looked up to, and loved my mother deeply. Our
mother was the type of person who if a teenager wanted to race cars in the middle of an intersection, she would race them! Both
of my parents worked and my father helped pastor a church in his spare time, however, one of them was always home when
their children came home from school.
I was still a virgin when I married my husband when I was nineteen years old. We both wanted to have children, but I had four
miscarriages in a row, all at different stages of pregnancy. My fourth and final miscarriage was at four and one half months. He
was a boy who was perfect to me in every way, but he was not God’s will for me at that time.
At the time I had no medical insurance and I was bleeding horribly. My sweet, but to the point, German gynecologist did a D & C,
on me without any anesthetic on his table in his office. I remember the pain being so extreme, that I could feel the tears on my
shoulders, but not on my face. My husband didn’t have the stomach when I had anything to do with doctor stuff.
The procedure felt like someone was peeling a orange from the inside out of my body. The doctor told me that I would probably
have died if I had not had this procedure done. I did this by myself, but I was never alone because I knew God was always there
with me. I was told that I would probably never have any child of my own, and that I should think about adopting.
My husband and I then started the adoption process even though the humiliation of their constant questioning us was difficult.
After they had completed their physical interrogation of us, they began interrogating our ethical lives. We soon felt like we had
been washed, wrung out, and put on the line to dry. But we were bound and determined to adopt a child.
All of our effort paid off for us on May 14th 1979, when we received a call at 8:45 am. We both hopped on a plane and flew to a
hospital many miles away. We were both nervous, and stressed out from the anticipation of holding this little girl that God had
offered to us. This newborn was waiting at the hospital for her new parents to arrive as we walked into the hospital where we
were greeted by a nurse in the nursery.
She handed us the most beautiful little baby girl you have ever seen. She was 8lbs. 12 oz, ten toes, ten fingers of sheer joy, joy,
joy! She truly was God’s most precious gift that He could have given us.
We then spent the next three hours with her before being told that we would need to come back the next day. The nurse then
put matching wrist bands on our new baby and I before going to my parent’s house as we anticipating the next day.
The next day the doctor gave her an examination then wheeled us out of the hospital with our new prize in my arms and with
enough baby formula, diapers and wipes to last for many days. It must have been so surreal for me that as I left the hospital, I
stopped to look behind me just to make sure that no one was coming after me.
I thought to myself, “How could this be happening! God’s wonderful infinite grace!! Our little bundle of joy took her first plane ride
when she was just three days old! This was against airline regulations, but under the circumstances, they let us fly her home any
way. Our life was now completed with birthday parties, piano lessons, dance classes, gymnastics, baseball, basketball, and
before we could stop to blink our eyes, graduation parties.
Our little girl was an over-achiever as she started making her own money at nine years old. She adored her father and was her
father’s daughter. Yes, she loved her Mom too, but she had a very special bond with her daddy. Many dads do have a special
place in their daughter’s lives, as I did mine, and these two were no exception.
By the time our daughter was four years old, I had given birth to her younger sister. My same German doctor told me that I would
have a child of my own, but I was not on his positive thinking wave link. Then on May 18th 1982, with a floor length mirror in the
delivery room for me to watch, I delivered a baby girl. She was born with that white substance all over her, as God had now
blessed us with our second little angel.
I had grown up sitting on my mother’s lap in the churches that my father had pastored. I tried to continue this tradition with my
own family, but my husband had major problems with religion. He only had one day off a week, so he refused to spend that day
in church so our daughters grew up in a very different world than I had.
Life started off so good for us, we had two wonderful kids, a beautiful home in the country, and custom cars to drive. We truly
had the American dream! However, trials and tribulations were coming! Our oldest daughter liked to work on cars and ride ATVs
with her Daddy, while her younger sister was more of a mommy’s girl. Because our youngest daughter was not a dare-devil like
her older sister, she became her older sister’s shadow, and was treated like a second class citizen by her father.
My husband then began using meth and before long I began using the drug with him in order to keep up with his new lifestyle.
Soon he began staying out until early morning, if he came home at all.
I then started retracing my steps as I began to blame myself for the chaos that was happening. It was then I realized that when I
left my first Love, things began going horribly wrong. Even though I had stopped doing meth by then, there was nothing that I
could do to stop the consequence of my poor choices. I felt like I was reaping what I had sown as the fire of redemption began
burning ever hotter.
It was then I also began to realize that our oldest daughter’s biological ancestry had began now to follow her as it all began with
our oldest daughter’s great-grandmother when she got pregnant at a very early age, as our oldest daughter was now the fourth
generation to follow the same paradigm. By now my husband’s meth use was exceeding as his personality was beginning to
change right before my eyes. He now had became a very different man than the one who I had married.
One early morning he come home at three or four o’clock in the morning after tweaking all day and night. I was a deep sleeper
at the time, to the point that someone could carry my bed outside with me still sleeping on it. Therefore, when he abruptly woke
me up, it caused me to go into a physical fighting mode. He had awoken me, because he wanted to have sex! He then started
holding me back by my throat, and choking me to defend himself. This act then caused me to go into a grand-mal seizure.
He and our girls went off to work and school the next morning leaving me going in and out of consciousness. I did not know who I
was or where I was all that day. When they returned home and realized that I was still out, he panicked and called my parents.
They came and took me to the E.R. where the staff commented about the bruising around my neck, however back in those days
hospitals did not often report spousal abuse.
Even though I had walked away from Him, God’s grace was still within me as I was still alive to fight another day! They did every
imaginable test on me they could think of trying to understand why I had, had the seizure. They discovered that I was totally
drained of magnesium that I needed to fight off the horrific torture that my husband was placing on me.
By this time I had given up a nineteen year medical career to work in the wrecking yard that my husband and I had purchased.
He had previously worked there for many years before we bought it from the owners. He had become the #1 Junkyard Dog, and
I was now his Autowreckress!
I began working six days a week there with him running the office and our oldest daughter started working there on the days that
she did not have school. My husband was still working six days a week and often seven days a week to pay for our lifestyle.
Our oldest daughter was now thirteen years old going on, as they say, thirty. She not only looked like, but had the body to go
along with a woman twice her age. She then became attracted to our counter guy. My husband and I were never sure about
what had happened between our daughter and the counter guy, but our oldest daughter all of a sudden clammed up and would
not talk about him.
We were never sure if he had raped her, or if it was consensual sex, but something happened to our baby, and he was way too
old for her. After relieving him of his job, I then found my husband pointing a gun at his head readying himself to pull the trigger.
This young man was never aware of it, as I stopped my husband from murdering another human being that day!
Everything was spinning more out of control by now! I began thinking about how I was going to raise our girls by myself if my
husband continued to lose it. However, God’s grace was there and intervened again. I began to take comfort that nothing,
absolutely nothing was ever too big for my heavenly Father! But God still had more fires coming!
By now our little girl had began to grow curious about her biological mother. She had been told all of her life that we had hand-
picked her as our very own and that her biological family had made it very clear that they did not want any contact from us.
However, just a few weeks after this last ordeal, another one of my husband’s tweaker buddy’s, who had been working on our
property, convinced our oldest daughter to go on a trip with him at gun point. After robbing our home, this ‘person’ assured our
oldest daughter that he could help her find her biological mother. When I returned home from work that day, our daughter and
all of her personal belongings were gone.
From that point on all of our lives became even more of a living hell, as I began to blame myself for everything that had
happened. I then went from being a heavy sleeper to a non-sleeper. I went from weighing one hundred and thirty pounds to just
over one hundred pounds.
They say I looked like a walking skeleton with worry written all over my face. I then began spending hours upon hours rocking
myself on my baby’s bedroom floor as I waited for the phone to ring. I spent my time praying to God, “Take me not her!” I began
doing this day after day and over and over again!!!
Then I felt a voice tugging at my heart to check her savings account balance to see if any money was missing from it. When I
called the bank, the bank teller told me that I would need to wait for her monthly statement to come out. However, when I called
the sheriff about my tracking idea, he told me to go to the bank and raise hell, and that is just what I did!
“Do it on a busy day, and do not leave there until they give you the information you need.” He claimed. I then went there on a
Friday around noon and waited in line patiently, at least, what I felt was being patient! I got up to the teller and explained the
situation to her. She then informed me that I must wait another week for the monthly statement to come in the mail.
Now keep in mind that I had not slept for days by then, and even though I had stopped doing meth, I was still an emotional
wreck. I was distraught, angry, frustrated, and almost at my breaking point. That poor young bank teller had no idea who she
was dealing with on that day! Telling me that I would have to wait another minute was not what I needed to hear!
I then took the advice of the sheriff and started getting louder and louder. “I want to speak to the bank president.” I shouted! A
man standing behind me had heard our conversation and even he started ranting and raving. Within a moment or two I had
three or four other people cheering me on. This mother was going to find her baby, and you better get the hell out of her way or
you will be consumed by fire from hell!
However, God was there! The noise and commotion we were all making was getting the attention of the bank’s vice-president
who came over and invited me into a private conference room with him. I then explained my situation as he looked up the
information that I needed. I found out that there had been withdrawals made from her savings and from where.
Some came from the south and then later from the north. Now I just hoped that she was still alive and because the withdrawals
were small, I felt the chances were good that she was! A few days later I got a call at 3:04 am, and I will never forget this time as
long as I live, because I heard my daughter whisper to me “Mom” before hearing a male’s voice in the back ground telling her to
get off the f---ing phone or he would kill her!” I now had real hope, because I was sure she was still alive! But still I was not sure
where she was.
Apparently, the person who was holding her had first taken her south before taking her to a neighboring state up north. The
town was so small and remote that if you were to blink your eyes, you’d miss the main drag. This person had a friend from his
truck driving school years who's wife who had become suspicious of his relationship with the young girl with him.
Upon realizing that the relationship was odd, the man’s wife decided to inquire about it. She then asked her husband to take this
suspicious acting person hunting with him. Apparently, this woman had planned to take my daughter grocery shopping to a
neighboring town that afternoon. While the two of them worked to finish doing the dishes, the woman asked my daughter if her
parents knew where she was. Our daughter then told her “no, they do not.”
I later thanked God, because even though this woman was a drug user, she had a good heart as here was God’s grace in the
flesh! The woman then asked our baby if she wanted to get away from this so-called "man" and she replied, “Yes, yes!”
The next day the woman's husband armed himself with a rifle and told this so-called man to hit the road. Our daughter stayed
with these people while they began calling the authorities to report a stolen vehicle and a kidnapping. Needless to say, that
person got the hell out of town real fast to never to be seen by any of us again.
This woman then called our business to put our baby on the phone. My retired parents had begun driving for many miles each
day to help me at the wrecking yard. My husband worked hard, but since my husband was doing drugs, buying toys and other
women, therefore by the time my baby had called, the owners of the wrecking yard were calling in their note on the loan.
Our landlord then pulled the lease, and we had to clear out our business. Knowing that our daughter was safe with these
people, I waited for my husband to clear off the wrecking yard. Using my parent’s motor home we then went up to get her. After
bringing her back home from being gone for over six months, we took her to family counseling where we made appointments for
her with child psychologists who tried using hypnosis on her, but they could not get her to talk either. I was told that her trauma
was too deep seeded, and that someday it may come out.
Life went on, but I still do not know the whole truth about what had happened to her. I was also denying what was going on in my
husband's life. Later on our daughter did start telling me about some of the stuff, but she soon clammed up again. I felt that she
was trying to protect me from the harm that she had gone through.
The chaos continued along with my husbands drug use and his “Other women” became more obvious each day. Like a fool I
started going on night raids, and day raids trying to catch him in the act. I never did find him in the same bed with other women,
but I did find him at other woman’s houses. I also pointed a 38 at him without his knowledge, only to see my baby’s faces flash
before my eyes, and a voice say, “It’s not worth it!”
However, when he tried to move one of his tweaker girlfriends into my home, I had enough. I had grown up believing that
marriage was for keeps, but after he pointed a gun at my head and I pointed one back at his and told him to pull the trigger if he
had the balls, I knew it had to end before one of us was dead. Even my parents said; “If you don’t get you out now, you may
never come out alive.”
It was now time to do some serious re-evaluation;
My father then loaded up my and our youngest daughter's basic necessities in a moving van and she and I left the home in
1993. I tried to take both of our daughter’s with me, but our oldest daughter wanted to stay to help her father and finish high
Leaving my baby behind was one of the hardest days of my life! However, one day my mother and her had a talk where my
mother began to fully realize the sacrifices I had made regarding my health trying to keep our family going. I had admitted to my
faults, regarding my drug use, and asked for forgiveness from both of our daughter’s.
Our oldest daughter began driving herself to school without a driver’s license while trying to finish high school. I know things
were not easier at her father’s house, but I knew that she was now trying hard to do the right things in her life. She wanted to
save her father but she did not realize that only God could save him. He lived in our home rent free for three more years before
it was foreclosed on.
After our daughter got pregnant by her boyfriend, she was so scared to come and tell me. However, her and my soon to be son-
in law both came up to where I lived to tell me. I had previously known this hard working young man from before, but hearing that
my baby was pregnant was not what a mother wanted to hear. However, I felt that I was not in a position to throw stones at
anyone, but at myself.
We then all went to a lake resort for them to get married. I was just thankful that this young man had taken responsibility for his
actions! Then on August 25th 1995 my first grandchild was born. She was so beautiful as she looked just like her mother, but
with a little bit of her father in her.
I was now legally separated and still struggling with the idea of divorcing my husband. However, that changed too! I had tried
everything I could possible do to make this marriage of mine work, but to no avail. The STD, the drugs, the fights, I just could not
have survived much longer with him as my love for him was drained dry.
I began to focus on our youngest daughter, my new job, new apartment, new friends, and seeing my baby with her new family,
however, she, too, started having marital problems. She was still using drugs and I blamed myself because I felt that she had
learned it from her parents, even though she never watched either of us do it, she still knew. We just do not realize what we put
our children through until the years have gone by and we begin to reap what we sow. After her marriage failed, she moved up to
be closer to her sister and I.
After I had taken a job working in my brother’s office in the little town where we all now lived in our little apartment, she started
her drug use again. She had grown into a beautiful young lady, tall, out-going, and talented at so many things, but she now was
drawn to bad boys!
After warning her that she could not have dope in my home, I found some in her purse. She had found a job, so she then moved
out on her own. However, she regularly stopped by the apartment to check in with me. One day she informed me that she had
met another man, and before long she was pregnant by this much older than her "Man?" After claiming that he was unable to
have children, on April 16th 1999 my second grandchild was born.
I was so thankful to see her give birth to this little boy. It is such a miracle to see your grandchildren born. However, because she
had hooked up with a bad boy tweaker, there were many more trials and tribulations coming for us all.
I remarried after being single for a few years, after only dating a handful of men. Just six months after my marriage, on January
30th 2001, again I will never forget the day that I was returning back to work from lunch. My new grandson’s other grandmother
walked in to my work and handed me a piece of paper with an officer’s and mortuary number on it, and informed me that my
baby had been killed in a car accident.
This woman, not knowing what to say then turned around and walked out. Within a few minutes my youngest daughter had
stopped by the office to see me. When I told her what had happened she started wailing on the floor in our reception room. I
thank God that it happened during my lunchtime while there were no patients in the office. However, I was just numb and
shocked, so I calmly came around and sat down to use the phone at the front desk.
I then called the officer and described my daughter’s tattoo. It was her! I then called the mortuary but I had lost my voice by then.
After I had better composed myself, I started trying to call my family, but I could not reach anyone, except for my nephew. But
again, I could not speak. Finally the words came out, “My baby has been killed at 6:05 am in a car accident.”
My family soon all rallied at the office to support us. My new husband was not reachable by phone, so some of my family drove
over to get him. My Daddy had already passed away, and my Mother was living down south so when I called her, not thinking
what it would do to her. As I waited to hear my mother’s comforting voice, I started asking God over and over again,"Why her,
not me?" If I had done this, or I had not done that or if only I had been there more for her. If only, If only! So many questions that
we cannot answer and still do not understand why!
My relationship with my grandson’s father was not good. There were so many things that his family had done to make matters
even worse over those few short years! He had been in the vehicle with her and did not have a scratch on him. It was then I
realized that God was not done with that boy’s life yet, and that I knew I had to forgive him or be consumed with hatred! My baby
had a five year old daughter, a one and a half year old son, and "What about them God?" I asked myself.
The funeral was such a diverse bunch of different people, but I realized then how loved she was by so many. I could not cry as I
kept going through the everyday motions of life. I was not even sure I wanted to live anymore! My poor husband, he did not sign
up for all this, but he never left my side!
Then I was questioning if the good Lord had aloud one of my babies to go, then the thought that He may take the other one,
really got me upset! My godly mother was spending plenty of time on the phone with me helping me to make sense of what all
seemed to be so senseless. I will never forget her words to me that day; “God gave this precious little girl to you twenty one
years ago! She was His child on loan to you, to raise, nurture, love, and teach.” Her words of support was all that held me
together. My mother is so correct, my baby was on loan to me.
However, I still blamed myself because I felt that it was I who had screwed up and now God was punishing me! Wrong, wrong,
wrong! My baby had been over at our house the Saturday just before her car accident. She was talking, laughing, sharing and
loving with my husband and I. Her sister and both of her children were there as well, and we had a group hug on her way out the
door. God’s blessings!
After her death, a week passed by and then two weeks, until one morning when I awoke I was not able to get up out of bed. My
husband told me that I had, had a grand-mal seizure and that my chin had jerked down towards my ankles.
Trust me, we do not bend like we use too! I was dressed in different clothes than I had gone to bed in, lets not even go there!
Little did I know that I had broken six bones in my back.
Everyone felt that I had tried to relive my daughter’s accident in my head. My husband said that I had let out the most blood
curling scream he had ever heard. It scared our poor dog so bad that he ran under the bed to hide! But my husband calmly
changed my clothes and covered me up with plenty of blankets. Having a continence problem is not what I wanted to hear either.
He said the hardest part for him was when he asked if I knew who he was an hour later, I said, “No honey, I
don’t” he knew then how "out of it" I really was. At this point he still did not realize how bad my back was torn up.
My brother told me to take all the time I needed to heal. I thank God for my family and that I work for a family chiropractic
business. God is good, all the time! All the time, God is good! I have had two kypho-plasty surgeries and I still work full-time, I
love my job and the wonderful life God has given me.
Grief comes in stages for me today. I once had a dream that my baby was holding onto my wrists telling me, “It’s okay Mom,
you know where I’m at!” I truly feel that God took my daughter when He knew that she was the closest to Him and that her life
was too full of pain for this young woman too endure! As most people will never ever have that much trauma in their lives.
Do I miss her? There is not a day, a moment, that goes by that I do not feel that a part of my heart has been ripped out. The
beautiful thing is that I do get to see her again. I wanted to hug her at the mortuary, but they advised me not to because she had
too much blunt force trauma to her body. But, I will get my hug someday. My baby is safe in her heavenly father’s arms now,
where no one will ever hurt her again.
The pain will always be here. However, the only way that I was able to soften the blow was to forgive all those who had harmed
her. This is a very hard thing for us mothers to do, but only through the grace of God it is possible. We mothers always take all
of the responsibility of child rearing, however we also must learn to forgive ourselves when things don’t go has we had hoped.
We can never forget, but we must know that we did the best we knew how to do at that time. We must leave the rest for God to
To this day, forgiveness is given as I pray I will be asked to forgive, but I don't expect it. I walk each day with great pain, but with
my head held up high knowing that in Christ I can do all things through He who gives me His strength, even when I think it is not
there to use!
I hope my story will help others to understand God’s plan for their own lives." - Ruthy Englund/Hamilton/Chandler
In the spring of 2008, just days after Nicole's younger sister Adrianne brought Nicole a niece into this world, Larry, Ruthy's
former husband, Nicole & Adrianne's father, while on his way up to see his newest granddaughter, also left the physical world.
I often remind Ruthy, judging from my extensive research that it appears, although unbeknown to us at this stage of our
development, we always retain a portion of our soul essence within the 5th density realm of consciousness that most call
"heaven" even when we are off on another adventure. Therefore, there we will all have the opportunity to again visit with our
loved ones. Therefore, trust the process!
"Let us count all things but loss, for our loss belongs in the loving arms of Providence" - Ray.. aka Travis Knight