Lauralouise Warshauer
Woodie was my half brother's father. My half brother was Mark Alan Worstell who also went by my father's sur name of Warshauer, which was highly inappropriate. My mother was married to Woodie when she met my father in Grand Rapids, Michigan and Mark was about 5 or 6 years old at the time. My mother and father both cheated on their spouces and as I learned later in life what this meant for my half brother because we all had an upfront seat to his ruined life. Woodie remained good friends with my Grandfather, Herbert Runner, no doubt to always know about his son Mark. When my grandfather passed in 1994 I met Woodie for the first time. I remember apologizing to him for my mother and father's horrible behavior the day of my Grandfather's funeral. I wanted Woodie to know that I saw it all and understood how devastated my brother's life was because of it. Woodie was so grateful to listen to what I had to say. I was struck immediately by how easy and gracious Woodie was to be around, he was such a kind and decent soul. I knew then my mother had made the biggest mistake of her life. Woodie, however, was blessed to have met and married his second wife Janet. Countless times I called and spoke to Woodie, usually about conversations regarding his son's unbelievable hatred for both me and my brother Steve. When Mark was angry at me he would call me by my father's name but that is not the worst acts he committed against us and as his sister, some of what he did to me will die with me. All his life with us he was broken having been torn away from his real father and it made him an addict, difficult, hurtful and unbeable to live with. The pain Mark inflicted on both me and Steve has been unforgivable. Woodie allowed me to speak to him about all the pain and cruelty we had suffered. Woodie was the only person who ever listened to me and yet he had the grace to understand what Mark had suffered without accepting my brother's horrible behavior. I know that Woodie spoke on my behalf to his son and was actually the only person who could help him see what he was doing. My mother Zola Louise was the influence behind all of Mark's behavior and both of them shared a dark and secret pain that I will never understand. I told Woodie once he dodged a bullet when my mother left him. I am so glad that Woodie never had to experience the absolute manic depression, extreme rages and daily phone calls to the police where she constantly tried to have her own children taken away and lied about it all. Mark was too far gone as an adult and just could not see what our mother was doing. One time Mark was broke and the police were after him after selling his condo and ran out of money, he landed on my mother's doorstep in Santa Barbara. Whenever I called her asking about Mark, she would lie to me saying she had no idea where he was. One day, when she was gone to the store and to my shock, Mark answered the phone and begged me to help get him out of there. I'm the baby sister of the family people, this is my older half brother and I could never understand the hold my mother had on him. So I quickly came up with a plan and that day I wired him money and bus fare and he was on his way to my house in Pennsylvania that afternoon. I felt so good getting him away from her, I always felt good helping Mark. Prior to this I paid over $4,000 to save him from losing his condo so he could sell it and yet he squander the proceeds away and landed on mom's doorstep yet again. As soon as he was on the bus I called my mother and told her Mark left and was on his way to my house. Zola Louise just hung up on me. What kind of mother does this between her children? Once Mark arrived in Pennsylvania, we bought him a car and all new clothes and gave him a home that was safe and comfortable. Unfortunately, he was just destructive in his own addictions that he couldn't function in a normal household, Mark had much of the same mental issues as our mother and was abusive and so mean to me just like Zola Louise. Being both of their constant target was so confusing and the cycle I was caught up in was helping them both all the time and they would just crap all over me. Months later, I begged our cousin Bonnie to take him to live in Michigan because I had to pull him out of a bar and get him into a hospital to save him from dying. I am so glad he had Woodie and Janet the last years of his life and was able to know his son. I was considered the asshole however by my brother, his ex-wife Nancy and my nephew and my Michigan cousins because see, no one wants to hear about what we suffered, except for Woodie. Janet was also supportive at the time but I knew that was temporary and when Woodie passed, Janet wasn't interested in any of us any longer and I don't blame her, not one bit. However, everyone related to us should know the actual truth of Zola Louise and Mark. Woodie showed real compassion and undying love for his son Mark and even showed me that too. I will never forget his kindness, never. My mother passed in 2015, Woodie has passed as well as Mark and there is no more connection to the insanity for me. I finally have relief and my only fondness is for Woodie. I have all the childhood photos of Mark and home movies of the time Mark lived with me in Pennsylvania and I am holding on to them for his son Jessie. Jessie however, is afraid to reach out to me because he doesn't want to hear about his father's ugly side. He views me in the same way everyone viewed Zola Louise and Mark without realizing that there is a difference in being angry at what was done to me and wanting my nephew to have these photos. So just remember this Jessie, I'm important enough that if you want these photos of your dad, have the courage to call me and have compassion for what we had to live with, you can afford to show compassion for others Jessie. Your grandfather Woodie knew that. Janet wanted me to give them to her for Jessie and I said no... I am Jessie's aunt and he needs to call me for them. I think of Woodie from time to time and I hope that Mark has found peace and is with his dad now. I do not know how my brother died, I remember when I learned about it I broke down because I did not want him to suffer. When I finally found my brother Steve to let him know our mother and Mark had passed, he was severely bitter and could have cared less. That was harsh but I understood Steve's pain like Woodie always understood mine and had the words to help me get through some of it. He was a remarkable man my brother's father. Rest in Peace Woodie, take good care of Mark and tell my brother I loved him very much.
Laura
P.S. Just the other day I found an old photo in my mother's passport covered in plastic wrap that she had hidden in a flap. It was a photo taken with her and my father at a park in Grand Rapids and in the background was this boy who looked like my brother Mark.
