phone (206) 363-9601
fax (206) 363-9639
email click here
Client Stories
Pattie's Story
Dan Gorton's Story
Susan Gorton's Story
If you would like to share your story with others via this web page, please send it in an attachment to stories@nwfamilylife.org.
By doing so, you are giving Northwest Family Life permission to provide public access to your story in the understanding that all names within your story will be changed. Minor editing may also need to occur. Please keep all stories to a minimum of one typed page. We cannot promise that all received stories will be posted. Stories are reviewed periodically and the site is updated as needed. We thank you for sharing your story with us and we promise that your story will be read and honored.
December 10, 1987 is a day that will be forever etched in my memory. This was the day that my five children and I left our home for the safety of a confidential shelter for battered women. In the early morning hours of that day I had thought I was dying at the hand of the man who had promised to love and protect me. When the violence of that night ended and I was still breathing, I knew we had reached the point of leaving. Two weeks previously, when I had confronted him on his abusive action with one of our daughters, I had made the decision to leave the home if he ever touched anyone in the house again.
I had waited a long time to marry a man that I believed to be the kindest and gentlest man I had ever met – a man who would be a good father to our children, a man of integrity and honesty. This man I married changed right before my eyes immediately after the honeymoon. When you have married the person who you thought was the man of your dreams, how do you deal with this startling reality that confronts you? I believed him when he said it was all my fault and he denied doing the things I had seen him do. After all, he said I was the crazy one who needed help. It must be true, because I would never have chosen to spend the rest of my life with someone who would abuse me and my children emotionally, physically, and financially.
I had gone into this marriage having made a commitment for
life. For twelve years, I tried everything that I knew to bring healing to
our marriage and make it be what I believed it should and could be. Nothing
worked, at least not for long. It was through the help of a dear friend and
through developing a closer relationship with the Lord that I finally realized
that I did have a choice to leave. My children and I did not have to stay
in this relationship that was killing our spirits and souls, and wounding
our bodies. God had better plans for us.
On that night when I left, I was making a last ditch attempt to save my marriage.
If both of us were willing to make the necessary changes toward growth and
health, we could have a good family life. Unfortunately, that did not happen
for us. The danger and threats worsened for my children and I. After one year
of separation and a continually downhill situation, I finally filed for divorce.
My children and I received much love and support from our pastor, church, family members and counselors during the most difficult and painful time of our lives. It has been a long, hard road, but my family has found there is hope and healing for the pains and betrayals of our lives. We have continued as a single parent family to move towards ever increasing health and wholeness. We are learning what it is like to have healthy relationships. We want to know there are safe places to share your burdens and begin the journey toward healing.
My name is Dan Gorton. I was caught up in domestic violence for over thirty years. I thank God for Northwest Family Life, where I finally saw that I had to change my behavior and my life. This is my story.
I was born in the hard coal region of Pennsylvania in March of 1932, during the depression. My family was poor. We were on relief that is now called welfare. I have an older brother and sister and a younger brother. My parents were married, and I never saw them argue or fight. I also never saw them show love to each other. My mom did most of the disciplining. I believe she would look to find things to discipline us for. I built up a lot of anger as a young boy. I remember fighting when I was four or five years old.
I learned to live two different lives. I was a good boy at home and a bad boy away from it. I had to hide from everybody. The neighbor ladies would tell my mom when I did something bad, and then stand outside and listen to me being hit. I didn’t trust many people.
When I was young, my dad played with my brother and me. He took us to ball games and to the fair every year. Then, when I was ten years old, my mom and dad got saved, and everything turned 180 degrees. We couldn’t play ball or go on sleigh rides on Sunday. We couldn’t go to movies anymore. All of my friends were doing these things, but not me. It drove me away from the Lord. I thought about this a lot as I got older, and one day I made a vow that no one would tell me what to do.
I was drafted in 1953, and finally on my own. I had to leave home and I didn’t know anything about the world. I found out quickly that it wasn’t like Branchdale, PA. When I got to Basic Training, my eyes were opened. I met all kinds of men, good and bad. I made up my mind that I had to be bad to survive. So I used my mouth and what I knew about fighting, and learned a lot more. I went to Korea in 1954, and was there for a year. I got out of the service in 1955,and then the bad stuff really started. I started to drink heavily and got in a lot of trouble. But I lucked out and was never sent to jail.
I got saved in 1958, but still had all the anger. I went to California in 1958, and met my wife, Susan, at church. We got engaged on Christmas of 1959, and were married in March of 1960. I told you earlier that I learned to live two different lives. Well, when I got married, I switched them around. I lived a good life outside of home and was really bad inside. The anger started to surface even before we got married.
After marriage, things went well for a while, but the anger never left. I would punch holes in the walls. I had a bad mouth and used it to control everything, including my wife. I was an angry, violent man. I would scream at my wife until I couldn’t talk. It may sound funny now, but at times, I would be in such a violent rage, I would scream so bad, that my upper plate would fly out. I abused her mentally and emotionally by not talking for days. I was a "silent nighter."
Finally, it got to physical abuse. I would slap and shake her until I had no more strength. Twice, I broke her ribs. She wasn’t the one who made me angry. I chose to be that way. We lived in five different states over forty years. And within the five states, we moved 22 times, always thinking it would be better. But it wasn’t. We went from counselor to counselor and pastor to pastor. I thought I was real slick: I could control counselors, pastors, and anyone else we saw, so they would believe me and make me look good, and my wife look bad. I still had that vow in my mind that no one would tell me what to do.
Then, when I started to take medication for my blood pressure,
my wife would ask, “Did you take your medicine,” trying to watch
out for me. I would say, “No. And I’m not going to.” That
is how much anger had a hold on me. Man, what a fool I was!
For some reason, in September of 1990, my wife called Greater Seattle DVP,
which is now Northwest Family Life. We had gone to counselors before, and
they hadn’t worked. Pastors and Marriage Encounter hadn’t worked
either. I didn’t want to go to DVP. I asked my wife why she thought
this would work when all this other stuff didn’t. But she didn’t
give up. So I said I’d try it and if it didn’t work, I would leave.
I don’t know why, but I hung in for four months. For four months, I
came twice a week, full of anger, beating on the classroom table, talking
about what my wife was doing and not about myself. We drove all the way from
Federal Way to Redmond, but I hung in, hoping they would listen to me and
tell me I was right. It didn’t happen. My whole life was denial that
I had a problem. I would use the Bible, especially Romans 7, where Paul said
“I do what I don’t want to do, and what I don’t want to
do, I do. It’s not me, but a spirit warring against me.”
One night in January of 1991, I saw something that changed my life and nearly broke my heart. It was a video about the proper and improper bonding of a mother and son. Up to that point, no one could say anything negative about my mom. If they did, I was ready to fight. I had her built up so high in my mind no one else could say one word about her. She had done everything for me when I was a boy. She had breakfast for me before I went to work, packed my lunch, and had dinner ready when I got home. She washed my clothes and hung them the way I wanted them hung. She made my bed. I didn’t have to do a thing. When she wanted to go to church and I didn’t want to, she would sit and cry until I’d say “O.K. Let’s go.” She would wait up until I was home every night. I thought she was praying for me, and maybe she was, but she also wanted to know what time I got in and what shape I was in. I never locked my car and she would go through it to see what she could find. I feel that those were her ways of controlling me. Why my mom picked me above my two brothers, I don’t know. I guess because I was at home the longest.
I needed to forgive my dad as much as I needed to forgive my mom because he wasn’t there for her to love her and give to her. They were married and that was it. My sister told me that my mom would come to her house and sit and cry and tell her, “All I want your father to do is love me. That’s all.” I believe if he had been there for her, she would have been satisfied and not have bonded to me. I never saw this before. I love Mom and Dad. I will forgive him. He was hard and cold to Mom. When I think back now, I can see the extent of it. So many times, I was like that to Susan and she suffered from it. This is another hard thing for me to see. Maybe he never did love Mom, and for an awful long time, I don’t think I loved Susan. But I really do now.
About eight months after I started to change, my wife said, “I have something to tell you: My counselor didn’t believe that you were doing the thing I was explaining to her, so she asked me to tape an argument. I told her I couldn’t do that.” I asked her if she did and she said yes. After they heard the tape, the counselor advised my wife to leave for her own safety, but she didn’t. I asked my wife if I could hear the tape and she said okay. I listened to about one minute of it, then I turned it off and said, “I want to hear this, but alone.” What came to me was, “this man is out if his mind and should not be alive.” If someone would have handed me this tape and told me to listen to it, I would have been like David in II Samuel 12. This is what the Lord told Nathan to do to David, and it says David’s anger was greatly aroused against the man, and Nathan said, “you are the man.” That is also the place where the Lord told David it was because he did it in secret. Men, we can hide nothing from God. We can hide from everyone else, but not Him.
But again I thank God for Northwest Family Life, that maybe my facilitators saw I had hope of changing. But, most of all, I want to thank my dear wife for praying for me. It was only the Lord that gave me the strength to go through what she did. I love her very much. It wasn’t a quick fix, it takes a long time. I still have to change. We have peace in our home, and joy with each other. At one time, I didn’t want to be home, but I never left or abandoned her. I threatened to, that was one way I could control her.
What I have now, no one can steal from me, and I won’t ever let it go. I’m 67 years old now, and wish sometimes that I had what I have now many years ago. Wishing won’t change those years, but I don’t have to be like that ever again. So, young men and middle-aged men, don’t wait to get help. Get it now, and avoid a life like I had. It’s not easy. Changing is the hardest thing I ever did and I’m glad I did it. I’ve had ten surgeries and none of them were as hard as change. But it works. It is hard for me to write this or to talk about it. But if I help just one person from having a life like I had, it’s worth it. Believe me, it’s never too late to change. My story is to give hope to those who don’t think there is any. I was afraid to change because I thought that if I did, I would lose control. Anger is a cover up for the fear of losing the control that we had all our lives. It’s not over for me, it’s a process. I still have to change and always will for the rest of my life.
I want to tell you a true story about myself that is profound and tragic … yet amazingly triumphant. I regret the reality of my life but am deeply thankful for it.
My name is Susan Gorton. I am Armenian. My parents have a background stemming from the Armenian massacre in the early nineteen hundreds. There was always an inbred hatred between the Armenians and the Turkish people culminating in a devastating war which took millions of lives. The Turks sought to annihilate the whole Armenian race. My dad was a lay pastor who pastored the villages surrounding his home, which at that time was Hadjin, Turkey. The Turks told my dad that his life would be spared, along with the family’s, if he would fall down and worship their god, Mohammed, and denounce his Christ Jesus, which he did not. When my father refused, his mother and father and two sisters were herded into their house. The house was set on fire and they were burned before his eyes. My father was in a state of shock and denial from that point on. He had an uncanny tenacity to survive and walked along a three-month stretch, along with other Armenians, to a boat that would take them to the United States. My mother’s family also escaped this way.
My parents met in Los Angeles and a marriage was pre-arranged for them. They barely knew each other but married nonetheless. Both being Armenians, they did what was the custom of those times. They entered into marriage within the frame of unbelief, denial, and shock, and made out the best that they could. They were severely traumatized. My father was silent and non-communicative. My mother was nervous and fearful. They had four children: three girls and one boy. Superstition and fear always played a part in our lives. I was a heavy participant in this. I was particularly sensitive and caring, so I got the brunt of a lot of this.
My brother, Chuck, contracted bronchitis and it went into pneumonia. He died. I can remember my dad going into the room where my brother was laying and saying that my mother should take him to the doctor. She said that she was afraid to go. My father went into a further downward spiral and went into much blaming of this death upon himself and never was all right again.
I had a very troubled childhood. I had abnormal fears and disfunctionality. I had to work very hard at survival each day for years. When I was in my teen years, I was grossly overweight and highly phobic, but managed to survive. Christianity was a very vital part of my life. I never dated. I met Dan at church and we got married in March, 1960. I don’t know why I married him, but I think that I was in dire need of having someone take care of me. Our marriage was troubled from the start. Dan displayed this during the first months of our marriage.
Because he did not get his way, he punched holes in walls. There were outbursts of anger, disapproval, and being told that I wasn’t doing this or that right. I never felt like I was doing anything right. My confidence began to sag and, in time, there were more signs of mental and physical downgrading. Dan and I did have times of pleasure, but there was an insidious indication of “having to be on my toes,” trying abnormally hard to make things okay. It seemed like I was never good enough. I did not feel secure. I would be afraid and have panic attacks, and finally went to a psychiatrist for four years. That provided some help, but it was minimal. Dan and I had planned on having children, but I was afraid that I would do harm to the children and, after trying, we decided not to have any children. I am thankful now that we did not have any children. It wouldn’t have worked out. We were too dysfunctional and had so many things wrong. There was not any hope for us anywhere. I grew more nervous and he got more intolerant and critical. There were little signs of violence. He would get angry and voice it in condemning ways. We moved from state to state. Everywhere we went was for the “sake of his work,” so to speak. Nothing seemed to work out. I went from counselor to doctor in the hope of getting some help. One minister told me I as mentally ill. Another said to just trust the Lord. This was often said to me when they didn’t know what to say. They weren’t much help.
I then began to have incident after incident of both physical and verbal abuse. It was predominately verbal abuse, but the physical abuse was going at a more rapid rate. At first, it was about every two weeks, then about once week, until it was a total madhouse. I didn’t know where to go or what to do. I was so convinced that I was crazy that one time I spent an entire evening trying to get into a mental hospital. After going from counselor to counselor, I decided to make a last ditch attempt to make things okay. I looked through the phone directory and found Northwest Family Life. I made Dan go by literally putting my life on the line.
At Northwest Family Life, I found a caring that was incredible. This was the last ditch effort for survival. I went for individual counseling and group treatment for about two years, without interruption to know what I could do. I learned that I was extremely codependent and would try to govern Dan from afar. Like always asking the counselor in charge about what I could do for Dan. One time, when I had attended a conference put on by Northwest Family Life, I interrupted the speaker who stopped me and said, “Lady, you better let your husband handle his own crisis.” Granted, this wasn’t the best approach that he could have used, but it worked. I started to work through my codependence. I learned there was much to know about it. I found out through Northwest Family Life that Dan would be one way one time and another way another time. He was ”Mr. Nice Guy” outside the home and entirely different inside. I would tell my counselor that Dan was this way and that, she would say , “I can’t believe that. Dan doesn’t seem that way.” Then she finally told me to get a tape recorder and record a fight. I did just that and I got a frantic call, saying that it was extremely dangerous for me to stay in this situation and that I should move out. She had Dan’s counselor on the other phone. They both agreed.
As the time went by at Northwest Family Life, I began to concentrate on my healing and learned everything that was necessary to enhance my life, and Dan did the same. We have had a tough recuperation, but as the years go by, I see more and more improvement in both of us. Dan has become a wonderful, caring person. He has been a good provider and I thank him for that. I also thank him for being humble and transparent so that others can benefit from his life. That is his deepest desire. And I will always thank the Lord for where I have been. As a result of this I know the Lord in a way that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise. I wouldn’t trade my life with anyone, but would not wish it on anyone.
history
mission
client stories
board
staff
employment
NWFL news
How to keep an
abuser from tracing
your internet use.
learn now