About the Barteaux and Stevens Families

 

Walter Dean Barteaux and Betty Mae Stevens met one evening at the local roller skating rink in West Los Angeles.  

Melinda prior to Richard - A Commentary

My thankfully short marriage to Richard Lee Barteaux had a profound impact on the course my life would take. 

The direction for my life had always been college, with a major in Geology and Ancient Studies, though I was also interested in Water Resources and related subjects. These subjects had fascinated me for years; I did not watch television, I read books, many of these brought home, at my request, by my father, Dr. Arthur F. Pillsbury from UCLA. Mother's major in college at UC Berkeley was Theoretical Math, with a specific interest in Pure Projective Geometry. 

My usual preference for wearing apparel as a child was for blue corduroy overalls - unless I was to wear a dress or skirt to school or some other occasion, for instance when my sisters, who were much older than myself, married. A flower girl dress was provided for these occasions. I wore these with a sense of duty.

Our trip to Rome in 1964 began with a visit to New York to see the World's Fair there, then on to Ireland, where we took a bus tour around the entire island. From there, we boarded a hop to England, to see a list of historic places there, and then on to Rome. 

While we were living in Rome and I attended Saint Stephen's Episcopal School in the Parioli District of Rome. Mother was informed  of the need to conform to the dress code. No pants allowed for girls; the code came close to a uniform, but this did not bother me. Mother took me to an Italian clothing store and some input was allowed  for my preferences. But all the garments were sturdy and simple, and I wore them without complaint. Being in Rome had fulfilled a long wish to explore the city with its diverse historic locations. Roman history, along with Egyptian, and others, had been a consuming interest of mine since I was about 7 years old.

Returning to Los Angeles after spending about 12 months in Rome and the rest of our time travelling by car around Europe, included a flight to East Berlin, with Dad, and my mother Mary Alice Reasoner Pillsbury, and my two brothers, , Charles Arthur Pillsbury, 4 years older than myself, and my younger brother, Stephen Martin Pillsbury.  It was a wonderful trip, each destination providing an understanding of the people, their history, customs – and their cuisine.

 I took notes in my diary on these and collected small metals from each destination. I reasoned these were small, would remind me of these sites, and took up very little space in my luggage. 

Our trip to Rome had begun with a visit to New York to see the World's Fair there, then on to Ireland, where we took a bus tour around the entire island; their history fascinated me since it included a thousand years of oppression by the English. From there, we boarded a plane to England, to see a list of historic places there, and then on to Rome. 

While we were living in Rome I attended Saint Stephen's Episcopal School in the Parioli District of Rome. Reaching the school from L’EUR, where we were living in a flat routinely rented to professors or other professionals on sabbatical. The trip to school required walking to the Metro, a local train, which delivered me to Termini, where I caught the 39 Bus to the Piazza Euclide. From there, I began walking up one of those hills of Rome.

Conforming to the dress code did not bother me in the least, even though no pants were permitted for girls. At home, getting me to wear anything but pants had been a problem for Mother, but now I was in Rome and readily, cheerfully, accepted this.

Dad bought me a card so I could visit all historical sites, museums, including art galleries for free. I was in heaven. Being in Rome had fulfilled a long wish to explore the city.

Roman history, along with Egyptian, and others, had been a consuming interest of mine since I was about 7 years old. Making replicas of buildings and scarabs occupied a significant part of my time.

Returning to Los Angeles after spending about 18 months in Rome, visiting multiple sites with my family, and then touring Europe with Father, Dr. Arthur F. Pillsbury, my mother Mary Alice Reasoner Pillsbury, and my two brothers, Charles Arthur Pillsbury, older than myself by four years, and Stephen Martin Pillsbury, two years younger, had been a time to remember.  I took notes in my diary on these and collected small metals from each destination. I reasoned these were small, would remind me of these sites, and took up little space in my luggage. 

Back at Venice High School was not a joy. No one appeared to share my interests.  I had hoped this would have changed, but was not surprised. I spent considerable time in the library, as I had at Webster Junior High School. But I did have my poetry as a continuing interest and made one or two friends. I also renewed my acquaintances with friends from the street where we lived. I had been born while we lived there, which was a change for my parents, as until then they had rented homes from sabbatical families, also from UCLA. They were, I knew, happy not to have to move every few years.

When I was a senior at Venice High School the worst thing which would ever happen to me in my entire life took place.

Tommy introduced me to Richard Lee Barteaux.

I had already been on my very first date at Christmas time. I was not interested in dating because I had not met even one young man who was willing to talking about subjects that interested me. This was not their fault, I understood that. Interests will vary, as does everything else with people.

I turned seventeen on October 26 of that year.

Then, I discovered from my friend Vicky Kerfoot, who was excited about social events, there would be a Christmas Formal at Venice High School. This, did not interest me, but Vicky, told me with glee her boyfriend had asked her to the Christmas dance, and enthusiastically asked me to accompany her on her search for a formal dress.

That sounded like fun, certainly it would be a change. I had grown accustomed to being out six days of the week in Rome, visiting museums, art museums, and the array of historic destinations that living in Rome provided. Returning to Venice High School held few attractions.

Nothing about Vicky's dress remains with me. But while she was perusing the racks of dresses, I saw the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. I have no idea why it impacted me as it did, but suddenly I saw myself wearing it, wrapped in its pink satin with delicate flowers embroidered on a faintly gleaming, thinly sheer overskirt. At the waist there was a pink satin band. I wanted that dress. This seemed completely irrational to me, but there it was, I hungered for it. 

I was surprised at myself, but I wanted that dress, and to justify buying it I knew I had to have a use for it. Somehow. This sudden desire for a dress struck me as irrational, but I could not argue myself out of wanting it.

Vicky noticed my sudden silence, as I stared at the glorious gown – then she mentioned that a boy from school, whose name I cannot remember, had said he wanted to ask me to the Christmas dance but was afraid to do so. This riveted my attention immediately. Without any use for the dress there was no reason to waste money on its purchase. If I had a use for it, Dad would be happy to pay for the dress, I had no doubt.

Vicky mentioned this to him the next day, and the shy young man asked me to attend the Christmas Formal with him. I now had a reason to need that beautiful dress.

It was Dad who took me to the store to purchase it. Once there, and having viewed the dress, he also pointed out to me I would need several other items, chosen to match the dress, to attend the event. This included a suitable evening wrap, long sleeved gloves, shoes, which he would have dyed to match the dress, and an appropriate clutch purse. Prior to this, my purses were, well, sturdy, meeting the criteria I had, myself, adopted.

The only other gloves I had were for winter in the snow; I could see these would not be appropriate. 

The dress itself, now in my possession, Dad took me in search of the other items required. Dad picked ones that, he said, would work well and I made my choices. 

It was also Dad who pointed out to me my hair would need to be styled for the occasion and took me to the hairdresser on the day of the dance, leaving work to do so. Mother refused adamantly to learn to drive.

Because my escort did not yet have a driver's license, his older brother drove the car used to pick me up for the dance. It was my date who came to the door to fetch me and meet my parents, and he was cordially welcomed.

I sat in the front seat and my date sat in the back. My date's brother and I had a wonderful, broadly ranging discussion on an assortment of subjects.

Since I had always been able to dance the fact this was the first dance I had ever been invited to attend did not concern me. The Christmas Formal included dancing, and my date and I may not have missed a single dance. I quite liked dancing.

My earlier experiences with dancing came about because from the time I was young Mother would play the Irish songs she enjoyed and, moved by the sounds, I had begun moving to the music when I was very young. It was while the Irish songs rang out that Mother confided in me that her family background was Irish.

As it turned out, I would only discover Mother had no Irish background whatsoever after promising to research her family history, about six weeks before she died on September 15, 1987. In fact, her genealogical background revealed she was mostly Scottish, and was a direct descendant of Robert the Bruce.

The Christmas Formal was continuous dancing, and my date and I may not have missed a single dance. I quite liked dancing.

Soon after this, a recent acquaintance of mine, Tommy Buckley, introduced me to a friend of his. And this is how I met Richard.

 Richard called me; these conversations were always about possible, unexceptional outings, eating out, mostly, though once he took me to see a park where he had played when he was a child. Then, he asked me to attend the yearly dance for the students at his school, Black-Fox Academy. I immediately accepted and acquired another formal, this one white lace.

It did not occur to me during this extremely fleeting period that he was strikingly dull. But the dance was fun and the corsage he presented to me was made up of roses and was pungent with aroma.

The Black-Fox dance had taken place as summer was beginning. Our next date was a tour of his childhood park; he asked me to marry him. At this point, we had known each other for about 2 months, and his parents were taking him to Hawaii with them in a week or so. On this occasion, after a walk around the park where he had played as a child, Richard took me to a jewelry store and bought me an engagement ring.

This was a shock. I had not said yes, and was both startled and embarrassed. But I realized the ring could be returned, and it seemed churlish to just say ‘No.’ Richard had said he would be away in Hawaii for about two months and would write to me. He did. I also gave him our address at our cabin in the Sierras at Cedar Slope, as Dad always took us there for as long as possible during the summer. We had been busy building a cabin for ourselves, next door to my Uncle Chuck's cabin about 6,200 feet in elevation. 

It was the next day when Richard took me to his home and introduced me to his mother, Betty Barteaux. Mrs. Barteaux began sending me presents. One of these was a portable iron, another was a set of cooking pots. She then gave me a set of very ornate silverware. I did not know what to say, though I did send her thank you notes using my informals, as was proper. I did mention the major I would be taking in college; this she also ignored - and when I shared stories of the cabin with her, she just stared at me. 

These trips to Cedar Slope were always a delight. Along with clearing the building space for our own cabin, I always looked forward to fishing. Dad had taught me to fish when I was five, and that year I caught my first fish and was, hooked on fishing. I rarely failed to bring back my limit, which I always gutted and cleaned myself. Trout was one of our usual breakfasts at the cabin. Mother never came, so we cooked on the wood stove in Uncle Chuck's cabin and took showers in the minimal bathroom on the porch there. Showers had to be fast, because hot water came out of the tank on the back of the wood stove. 

Uncle Chuck also had lots of projects for us. These routinely included some which were heavy work, including the repair and maintenance of the sewage system for his cabin. I generally returned to school in September with callouses and a tan.

One year, our project had been building out an area we used for sitting in the evening under the trees on one side of our cabin. Every summer included more projects, and they were always interesting.

While we worked, Uncle Chuck would tell us stories about his earlier life. Just out of college from UC Berkeley with a degree in engineering, Uncle Chuck had joined the U. S. Army and been assigned to the ongoing work on the Burma Road. Uncle Chuck returned from the service weighing 125 lbs. It was tough work, but essential to the war effort.

Uncle Chuck also had lots of projects for us, which I also enjoyed. We built out an area that we used sitting in the evening under the trees on one side of our cabin. We had spent years, moving wheelbarrows full of rocks and dirt to build up the area while not neglecting the need to dig out the steep slope so a pad for construction could be secured and given time to compact so there would be a solid base for the construction for our own cabin.  

I did wonder how Richard would like the cabin if he visited me there. We had been there for several weeks and were well advanced with laying out the leaching field for the sewage system when Richard returned from Hawaii. Later, I would be deeply sorry I had told him where the cabin was located.

Richard was not interested in any of our ongoing projects. He had arrived in his greenish GTO and thought it was more interesting to either drive up and down the mountain or take very short walks. My walks were never short, so this was annoying. He was also uninterested in assisting in putting in the leaching field for the sewage system, which was my own project that year. 

And it was obvious, after our first meal at the cabin, that he knew nothing about cooking or washing up afterwards.

I had wondered how Richard would like the cabin if he visited me there, but assumed he would just join in, as other guests had done. That did not happen.

 We had been there for several weeks by the time he arrived and were well advanced on laying out the leaching field for the sewage system. Later, I would be deeply sorry I had told him where the cabin was located.

Richard was not interested in any of our ongoing projects. He had arrived in his greenish GTO and thought it was more interesting to either drive up and down the mountain or take very short walks. My walks were never short, so this was annoying. He was also uninterested in assisting in putting in the leaching field for the sewage system, which was my own project that year. 

It was obvious Richard was uninterested in every single activity taking place. He did not even know how to wash dishes.

Since my entire family very much enjoyed our summers at the cabin, I assumed he would soon go home. But instead, he drove me up to see Dome Rock and began insisting we get married right away. The next part of the story I will leave for another time.

The wedding, which took place in Starkville, Mississippi, was ghastly. I have always wished I had never met Richard, never talked to him, and could erase every part of what I could only view as a tragic misadventure. 

To say we had nothing in common understates the case.

Angel Barteaux, Richard's third child

The Life of Angel Barteaux

When Angel was 17 in 1993 she was getting into serious trouble. At the time she was living with her mother, Beverly (Saville) Barteaux, in Modesto and going to high school, but not doing well. She had been caught for shop lifting, crashed her car, purchased for her by her grandfather Barteaux entirely wrecking it. She was also dating an older guy, the manager at the local Taco Bell there in Modesto and unwilling to accept her mother's rules.

She had been attending high school, but was not doing well.

During a domestic dispute over her staying out with her boyfriend at night a physical argument erupted. Angel called the police and had her mother jailed.

Her grandparents and her brother and sister-in-law, were entirely fed up with her. Her mother was no longer willing to have Angel living with her, either, when she turned to them for help, again. Angel had lived with her grandparents, Dean and Betty Barteaux, on and off over the years. They could not deal with her.

It was decided, probably by Dean, she should just move into Richard Senior's home, vacant since his death two months earlier. Therefore, she was shipped off with a girl friend, Brandy, to live at the house in Cheyenne, Wyoming, which had belonged to her father.

Richard, Jr’s wife, Jill, accompanied the two girls and got them settled in, ensuring they had all they needed. Jill, was also the one handling the allowance and paying the bills. Angel had to do nothing but go to school. A new Ford Escort was purchased for her. Angel complained because it was not what she wanted.

Brandy only lasted for 24 hours. She called Jill from the home of Richard Senior's old girlfriend, Peggy, begging to come home because Angel was being entirely unreasonable about everything.

Jill says Angel was a pathological liar and refused to cooperate on anything. Angel signed up to go to high school, attended for a month, then dropped out. The partying began immediately.

She was outraged to discover her allowance was cut in half because Brandy was no longer there. “Tough,” said Jill.

Shortly thereafter, just a little later in 1993, Jill received a letter from Chayla Rae Brown, a connection of Peggy's , telling them Angel was using drugs, not going to school, and hanging out with a druggy guy, Jason. Disgusted, the Barteauxs stopped sending Angel any money.

The house was in the names of Angel and her brother, Richard, Junior as tenants-in-common. Ignoring the fact she did not actually own the house, Angel sold it, taking the entire proceeds of around $76,000.

The following year there was a shot gun wedding because she was pregnant by Jason. Married October 14, 1994, giving birth on January 9^th of 1995.

Jason was working as a cook at Denny's in Cheyenne. Angel was staying home. The couple was receiving food stamps. Shortly thereafter she became pregnant again with Sarah. The new baby was born May 31^st, 1996.

While she was pregnant with Sarah, Angel began calling the Barteauxs for help. Her mom, Beverly, went down to help when Sarah was born. The Barteauxs spent $86,000 for a house trailer so she and her kids and husband would have a place to live.

After Sarah was born Jason began battering her. Angel sent pictures of her bruises.

By October 1996 Angel reported the abuse from Jason was too much for her to take. She decided she wanted a divorce and to return to California and get a trailer home there.

The trailer was sold at a huge loss. Angel returned to California in the same Ford Escort which had been purchased for her when she relocated to Cheyenne.

The Barteauxs again dipped into Angel's trust fund and bought her another trailer home, this one in Modesto. The divorce was finalized. Jason paid nothing.

Angel was sold a used Jeep Grand Cherokee, which had been owned by Jill and Richard, Jr.

An attempt to allow her to have credit cards ended after one month. Angel had blown through $20,000 on trinkets and junk.

Right after she moved to Modesto she met Damann Rogers and, again, fell in love. Rogers adopted her kids. They lived in the trailer home purchased for Angel until they got the inheritance after Betty died and then bought a house, where they still live.

The Barteauxs paid for Damann to go to school to repair copiers.

Today Angel does passion parties, selling sex toys, to make money and receives a monthly stipend from her trust fund.

About Angel's Life Interests

                                                                    Angel's Home Today

The reason this site is here

The gentle reader might wonder why I felt it necessary to provide the facts of the matter.  Those asking this question should rest assured my reasons were well thought out and long deliberated.  

First, I left Richard Lee Barteaux because he tried to kill me.  The fact he was appeared to be stoned out of his mind did not reduce my terror or the impact of my injuries.  The threats he had made against the unborn child then growing in my womb removed all doubt on the matter.  He told me blandly he would have sex with the baby I was carrying if it was a girl.  

At the time I might have heard the term 'psychopathic'. but I would not have known what it meant. It would be many years before the term, "Psychopathy" was generally known and understood. 

As you read the time line and pages reached with links you will see the documents and the calloused disregard for the baby I would birth on 5 July1967, not only by Richard, but also by his family.   

You might consider my chagrin when, years later, I realized the baby I loved and fiercely defended was, herself a psychopath.  See Morgan Pillsbury Gell

Some situations confronting us leave no good options.  

I was 17 when Richard and I married.  The very idea of marrying him revolted me.  He was the first person I went on a date with.  But I could not think of any way out of the dilemma, as he had raped me and I assumed I would be pregnant.  Learning about the realities of biology came late for me.  The only conversation with my mother, or anyone else, that had ever taken place was short.  It also left the salient facts unmentioned.

Mother, Mary Alice Reasoner Pillsbury, sat me down when I was about 11, as I remember, and told me how a baby got into the mother's uterus.  She said, and I quote her precisely, "The man puts his penis in the woman's vagina and secrets a fluid."  Surprised, I immediately said, "Wow!  You must have been very brave to do that five times."  She just stared at me and left the room.  My assumption was that this act always resulted in a baby.  

So, I went along with Richard's insistence we marry.  

This site tells the story.  At first, I was reluctant to tell everything, but recently realized that otherwise having married three very flawed men makes no sense. But, in my defense, the circumstances were unusual, but all of these originated from the previously mentioned misunderstanding of human sexual behavior.  My time was taken up with books, writing poetry, and a growing list of subjects, none of which touched on biology or psychology.    

My fourth husband, Brock is very nice, thoughtful, and intelligent.  

My first three husbands were hideous for varied reasons. We need not revisit Richard, this site provides the facts on him.  

The other two now have websites dedicated to them.

Ronald Edward Kellett (Ron changed his name to Foster after I changed my name to Pillsbury-Foster, around 1972.

Ron and I were very unsuited to each other.  When you have to write someone's papers for them in college and take there tests, it is clear the relationship will not work. Ron eventually dedicated all of his time, when not working (if you can call it that) to the only job he ever held with the Veteran's Administration as a draftsman.  

Ronald Edward Kellett (Foster)  I married him to protect little Carolyn from her legal father, Richard Lee Barteaux

Craig Franklin (Craig's name at the time of his birth was Allan Craig Franklin) Craig did not use Allan except on legal papers.)  See his will LINK Craig's father was an attorney and a double Vice President at the University of Southern California, full name Carl Mason Franklin. The leadership there may be noticed either this site or one of the other ones that mentions Dr. Franklin's odd ideas about the importance of his family, as I cannot find a laudatory page to link there.     

I thought our common interests would make for a good, solid marri age.  Wrong again, as he was a sexual deviant.  Craig was definitely intelligent but this did not make up for his other attributes, being intent on having sex with my daughters would have been enough, if I had known. This, he carefully hid from me.  

 Emotionally normal people are generally forgiving; knowing no one is perfect we try to be understanding.    

More of these years of my life at How The NeoCons Stole Freedom  and Morgan Pillsbury Gell

The child I originally named Carolyn Anne, is definitely her father's daughter. 

None of my later four children are psychopathic.  They have their quirks some times, but their emotions are real.  They all suffered from Morgan's despicable behavior when she stayed with us. When I describe this as despicable, I am being kind.     Unfortunately, my son Arthur died when he was 42.  I had been his caretaker from September, 1997, after the motorcycle accident that nearly caused his death, and the suicide attempt, caused by Craig, that followed.  You can find out more about Arthur at Arthur Edward Foster

Richard's schools Kindergarten to his impregnation of Beverly Saville.

Richard Lee Barteaux's Educational History

Redeemer Baptist Academy

Richard's doting parents began his formal education at Redeemer Baptist, which was located at 10792 National Blvd., in  West Los Angeles, CA 90064.  The school was offering classes from Kindergarten through 6th grade.  It appears that Betty Barteaux did not immediately place Richard in a school, as Tommy remembers,  Tommy, himself  started in the 3rd grade, and Richard starting in the 2nd grade. 

In Los Angeles, where I also grew up, school started in Kindergarten and classes were available from that year through the 6th grade.  I started, age 5, in Kindergarten at Mar Vista Elementary School at 3330 Granville Ave, Los Angeles, CA 90066.

Tommy recalled that Richard, who was not in his class, was active on the play equipment provided by the school, but was inclined to efforts to encourage other children into conflict.  

During this time, Richard's mother regularly invited him, Tommy, to come to their house in Cheviot Hills to swim with Richard.  No other children appeared to have accepted these invitations. Richard's expressed interest in swimming, Tommy said, appeared to be focused on building up waves that could then be used to splash out of the pool. Tommy did not remember attending a birthday party for Richard.  

Richard graduated the year before Tommy, who did not know to where Richard was gone on to continue his education for some time. 

From Redeemer Baptist Richard moved on to Black-Fox

A Brief History

From a page only available on the WayBack Machine

Black-Foxe opened its doors in the Fall of 1928 when Charles E. Toberman, a prominent Hollywood developer and financier, was joined by Majors Earle Fox and Harry Black to found the school on the site that had formerly been occupied by Urban Military Academy. Foxe became its president and Black commandant of cadets. Both Black and Foxe had served with distinction in the First World War.  Major Harry Gaver, whose title was honorary, joined them as Headmaster. It was Harry Gaver that was the intellectual force behind the founding and the rise to prominence of Black-Foxe as a first-rate college preparatory school.

From it’s earliest years Black-Foxe attracted a number of the sons of Hollywood luminaries, due in part to the fact that Earle Foxe had been a silent movie actor who continued to take an occasional part in sound films. By the end of the thirties Harry Black had gone on to other interests.  Earle Foxe remained as president until 1960.

Although it was founded only a year before the beginning of the great depression, those who could afford to send their son’s to the school were minimally affected by that ongoing event. In the thirties both the football and polo teams enjoyed sterling reputations playing and, more often than not, defeating college and university freshman teams. Football players were highly recruited during that period. By the 1940s the polo team was history and the football team, sans scholarship athletes, had settled into playing in the private prep school league. From that time on it was the swimming team that took the laurels. Many future All-American swimmers swam for the BF ‘Mermen.’

 During World War II many former Black-Foxe cadets and faculty members served with distinction. Five gave their lives, including the son of Headmaster Harry H. Gaver.  Harry junior, who was aboard the USS Oklahoma at Pearl Harbor, was the first Black-Foxe alumnus to die in the war.

The 1950’s at Black-Foxe, as well as elsewhere in the country, were years of stability and, except for Korea and the ongoing cold war, years of optimism. However, in 1954 Black-Foxe suffered what was undoubtedly its greatest loss when the headmaster, the firm but gentle Major Harry Gaver, died of a heart attack at age sixty-eight. English teacher Caleb deCou put it best when he said “Black-Foxe was written in the hand of Major Gaver.”  In  1959 the school was sold by Charles Toberman to Raymond Rosendahl, father of Cadet Ray Rosendahl.

The turbulent sixties with their social protests and raging anti-war sentiment, especially by the young , did not bode well for a military school.  In the early 1960s the name was changed from Black-Foxe Military Institute to The Black-Foxe School. Earle Foxe, the founding President had resigned and finally, in the last year, Army ROTC gave way to Air Force ROTC, the Air Force apparently being more benign than the infantry in the eyes American society of the 1960s. In 1965 Rosendahl sold the school to a non-profit group which included parents of cadets then in attendance. This group for reasons known and unknown were unable to make a success of the non-profit venture. In 1968 the mortgage holder had no choice but to foreclose, and Black-Foxe was no more.

Today, the only remaining vestige of Black-Foxe is a house on the adjacent property that used to serve as the kindergarten during the school year and a dance studio during the summer months.  It was purchased in the early 1940s by Black-Foxe, and when the school folded, it was sold to a Mr. David Aguirre. He now uses it as his residence and it is also a Los Angeles historical landmark and modest museum of Black-Foxe memorabilia.

Pat O'Donnell, Class of 1949

Back to Index page

It is likely Richard did not attempt to return to Black-Fox after the summer of 1966.  Instead, he started high school at University High School, Los Angeles, where  Thomas Buckley, his only friend from Redeemer Baptist, was also attending.  

Tommy chummed around with Richard, and he and Adelia Dennis, who I had known from Webster Junior High School, accompanied Richard in his GTO on drives around Los Angeles.  Tommy, who I had lost track of for                about 50 years, and I, reconnected over the phone, sharing stories about the ghastly Richard.  

Tommy shared stories about those drives in Richard's GTO after I escaped from Richard early in 1967.  Accompanying them, was Adelia Dennis, who I had known first from Webster Jr. High School.  Adela had come to the cabin with us once, but she could have been going to University High School by 1966.  

Tommy reminded me I had persuaded him to take Adelia to the Prom.  Presumably, this occurred before I escaped from Richard.  

I await more ancient memories on that period of my life.  I was, myself, producing piles of baby clothes, a layette which proved to have been sufficient for at least twins. This, and finishing High School in home study, were the focus of my attention.  

I embroidered each garment for the baby.  Then, you had to wait to find out the gender.  I solved this problem by choosing Carolyn Anne and Charles Arthur for the unborn baby, this way either gender eventuality was covered. 

It does not appear that Richard ever graduated from University High School.  Instead, he ran off with another girl Tommy had introduced to him, Beverly Jane Saville, whose mother's born name was Roth.  She was about six months older than myself, having been born in July, 1948.  

What makes their runaway relationship most interesting is that Beverly was already engaged to another man, who had presented her with an engagement ring.  Beverly was already living with this original fiancée, and her intended had purchased the rings to be used for their wedding, which was to take place in the near future.  The two were living with the fiancé's parents in anticipation of the event.  

I still cannot find any evidence the Richard and Beverly were legally married. Richard Lee Barteaux, Jr., was born  05/02/1969.