Jayson Smith

My Life and It’s Story, by Jayson Smith

It isn’t an easy one to tell and scertin parts are harder to understand than others.
life for me ,like for so many others has been and continues to be an up hill battle. Yet, not many born in the year of 1969 can say they were born in a juvinal institution while their mother was serving a juvinal life sentince.My mother Barbara Jean. Steels was incarcrated at then what was known as WS. STATE’ S DJR MAPLE LANE SCHOOL for Girls. she always told me she was locked up for being incoragable . my mothers sir name was not originally Steele, at some point in her life she had It changed to Steele, which was very fitting , she was a woman of steel and,not always in a good way. So on October 10 of 1969. she gave birth to the one and only son she’d ever have, me, and gave me the custed name of Jason Dwight Thomas. Steele. cursed, because its been a name I’ve hated my entire life. After Barbara Jean gave birth to me ,I was placed into foster care , my earelist childhood memory is being in a playpin with a sheet of plywood ovrer the top of it . why? I assume to keep me locked in. it wasn’t until Barbara Jean was 24 or 25, did she get custody of me. Needless to say Barbara Jean never formed a bond withe me. I on the other hand was madly in love with my momma, I was a serious mommas boy. tho’ Barbara Jean loved me she hated me at the same time. I know this, because when she would beat me, be it with a leather belt, extention cords or brom stick, she’d tell me how she hated me and wish she never gave birth to me. I could indure the beattings, but as a 5 year old little boy, nothing hurt more than hearing those words come out of my mothers mouth. By the age of 8, two out of three of my sisters wree born, I’d been past around to family friends and to any one Barbara Jean could con into taking me off of her hands for a while. I finaly made my escape from her at the age of 7 or 8 y.o.. My step dad, Thomas Hutchinson, was moving back to Texas after he and my mom finally broke it off. I remember clear as day my mom being in the bath tub and I went into the bathroom and asking her if she wanted me to go with my dad.I don’t even remember how,I knew he was leaving, but I knew l had to get away from my mom, I’d been beatin and molested by numerous women whom my mom had pond me off on, that I couldn’t take much more. leaving my two baby sisters was the most painful and hardest thing I had done up to that point in my young life. Alicia and Lucricia ( Nidja) were the sun and the moon in my world .Yet, self preservation over powered my desire to reman with my baby sisters.So in1977 I boarded a Trailway bus with my step dad, and head for los Angeles CA. were eventually I”d land in Hubbard TX. and into the arms of the most beautiful loving woman I”d ever know in my life time. My grandmother, Teresa Hutchinson. tho’ she was not my biological grandmother, that woman. loved and cared for me as tho I were her very own flesh and blood.
Unfortunately unknown to me at that time, in my very short 8 years of living, I had already lost all my trust in adults,and unintntionaly I made it hard for Mrs.Hutchinson to care for me.I’d already had been abused by both Barbara Jean, and Thomas Hutchinson, and I had been sexually molested by numerous of Barbara Jean’s femail friends.One of the boyfriends of those women cought his girlfriend molesting me, and he used an air pump BB-gun to shoot me, he made me stand with my 5 year old little naked body before him, making me stand still why he shot me in the middle of my chest, the tops of both my hands and feet and the on the top of my penis.So poor Teresa Hutchinson had no idea what she was dealing with, because I never told any one about the things that were being done to me.Who’d believe that a mother would sit on the chest of her 5 year old child and.burn him on his lips with matches for lying, or on each of his finger tips for stealing. Nevertheless Hubbard Texas, was the Mecca of all my childhood joy. I mean it doesn’t get much more Southern Country than Hubbard Texas in 1978. The adventures of Tom Sawayer doesn’t have much on me. I’m talking catfishing,squrel hunting,ruining barefoot through what little woods there were,star gazing and catching fireflys. It was the Cornucopia, the Nervana of my whole childhood.Sadly,it lasted less than two years. By 1981 my little yella’ ass was in the seat of a Grayhound bus, being shipped off to LA. California, Pasadena to be exact, there I was sent to live with Carel Hutchinson and her 5 kids.Tho’ my last name had been changed to Hutchinson, I was never embraced by any member of that family as I were part of that family. I was made to sleep on the floor upon a bed of dirty clothes. After a year of this neglect, I was placed on a plain for the first and only time in my life and sent back to Barbara Jean, in Seattle WA.It was summer time we were homeless bouncing from family friends homes and hotels.I was quickly shipped off again this time to live with my biological father whom I’d only met twice, once that I could remember and once from a photo. Again my last name was changed from Huchinson to Smith. I even twisted my middle names from Dwight Thomas to Thomas Dwight, so I could be a JT like my dad, however that didn’t work to bring us closer togetber. I later learned that Smith wasn’t even the name of my fathers biological father, and that my dad had no endearing affection for his own biological father, and I’d quickly come to the awareness, that my biological father would be someone I’d never come to trust let lone love. Shortly after moving in with him, I began to run away. the first time I was eleven years old, I started committing crimes which was the only means at my disposal to care for myself. Foster Care, Group Homes or any form of State Care was not a viable option for me. My trust in adults and the system was completely depleted.By the age of 13, I was a full time homeless run away… To Be Continue

Jayson Smith

DOC #663639

Washington Correctional Center 
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