Page 61 - Daphne Hart - 89 and Feeling Fine

whatever else was available. I was running late, and he
was not working that day, so I took off to catch the bus.

Shortly after I got to work, he came in through the back
door, grabbed me by the hair, and started punching me

in the face — right in front of my coworkers. I was so

ashamed. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

They told me to press charges against him, but I

couldn’t. That was a common thing in those days —
men beating up their women was a pastime. It was the

first time he attacked me at my workplace.

I was so humiliated, I just wanted to die. Luckily, the
Presser was there — a young up-and-coming boxer. He

grabbed him and punched him a couple of times, so he
left with his bruised ego, threatening what he was going

to do to me.

Needless to say, I couldn’t go back home for a while.
So, I spent the time at the Presser’s place. We became

friends — he was six years my junior. But because my
life was so miserable, I found myself spending more

time with him — not intimately at first, just friends.

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