Concepcion Picciotto - Continued
The next day called Mother Superior Maria Garcia (I had grown
up with in Spain) and asked her to come see me. I gave her $40.00
for the car fare since it was a very cold day and the snow was
heavy. She came to see me with another nun, and I explained the
situation. While she was in the house, my husband arrived and
they started to talk, but I was not satisfied with what was going
on. The next day when I woke up, I felt the same way. I told my
husband I was going to visit an old friend from the office and I
would be back. Then I arrived at this old friend's house, I had
the feeling of being followed. My friend was not much help, so I
called my husband and told him that I was spending the night in
my friend's house. Instead I called the nun seeking help. She
refused my need, advising me to go to St. vincent's Hospital. It
was very late and I was very frightened. I did not know what to
do, and being under the pressure from the drug, I panicked and
decided to go to Washington, D.C., to get help from the Embassy
of Spain. Since I worked for them all this time, they knew me
very well. Everything was against me when I arrived there.
Everything was closed as it was a long weekend and everyone was away. I was still seeking
help and I went to see a few churches near by, but none of them
helped me. As evening came, I began getting cold, and I checked
in at the Holiday Inn. I was not completely confident in the
whole situation, and I went down to sit in the lobby, and I saw
people gathering around me. I got up and went for a walk and
noticed that one of them was following me. I kept walking, not
knowing where to go. I took a bus, thinking it would be safer,
and went for a long ride. When I realized what the bus was going
to the end of the line, I got off and saw a gas station. I asked
for directions to get back but while I was talking with a boy
that was pumping gas into a car, he bent down as if he was hiding
from a flying object. I ran inside the office and through the
window, I saw the I saw the same person who was in the hotel
lobby. I called the police and told them what happened and that I
would like to talk to the Police Commissioner. A patrol car came
and I asked for protection. I told them I would like to go back
with them to Police Headquarters. They refused, and told ne that
the police in Washington was no better than in New York. I
didn't know what to do, so I managed to get in the back OF their
car and sit down. They refused, using force to get me out of the
car. I called for help, saying that was police brutality, and
they finally told me that if I wanted to go to the police
station, I had to get in a van that was parked near by. In the
beginning, I refused, and they said to stay in a motel near by,
which I refused. Then I decided it was better to get in the van
than to be left alone in the streets. As I approached the back of
the van, the police ran ahead and closed the door leaving me
outside. I struggled to get in, and finally they pushed me in,
locked the door, and, drove me, not to the police station, but to
a mental hospital where they kept me in the office. After all the
preliminary questions, I told them I wanted to call my husband,
who, instead of helping me, told them to lock me in and not let
ne go. I begged my husband not to do that, but it was useless.
Somehow they refused and kept me in the office all night. About
five a.m., one of the staff of the office, a middle-age Negro,
jumped on me and kissed me on the mouth. I passed out and when I
woke up, I found myself sitting outside the hospital on a bench.
I found it physically impossible to move my eyes and lips due to
the pain. My toes and nails were covered with blood. I then saw
my husband arrive with a neighbor by the name of James Smith.
They went inside the office and came out with a bunch of papers.
They put in a taxi to the airport, and sat me in the back of the
airplane. I looked at ny husband and his friend who says to ne,
"This is for the baby's benefit." And my husband was telling him
that after they will go on vacation to Jamaica.
When we arrived in New York, they told me that we would go home
to see the baby for the last time. As soon as we were in the
house, my husband told me to lay down on the bed; the baby was
downstairs with the old woman. After a while I started to feel a
little less pressure and could talk, so I asked for the baby, but
the old woman did not want to release her. I tried to go down,
but my husband was in my way and wouldn't let me move from the
apartment. Meanwhile, I was getting much better from the drowsy
feeling and pressure. I called the nun on the phone and told her
that I was afraid to be alone with my husband that night, so she
sent a woman to stay. We were supposed to pay her $35.00 for the
night.
Later in the evening, they let the baby come up. I could not
sleep that night; my husband came to get me back, so I told him
that I wanted to go down to say good morning to the baby, as I
always did. When she opened the door, I gave the baby to my
husband, and locked the door behind me, leaving my husband out
with the baby.
I took the old woman by the shoulders and shook her, asking at
the same time what was going on between them, and what my husband
was doing to me at night because I woke up every morning very
sick. She started to laugh at me, loosening herself from me. I
held on to her tight and gave her another shake in order to make
her talk, but she was screaming so loud, saying that I wanted to
kill her. My husband forced his way in, jumped on me, and sat
down on top of my body, choking my throat with his hands.
Cutting off my breath, I tried to scream and he pushed me out and
I went upstairs, leaving the baby with the old woman and my
husband. I took the telephone and called the nun again, but
nobody would help me.
Then I telephoned the Insurance Co., Mr. Winderman, since my
husband had recently changed the insurance policy a few months
before. I asked Mr. Winderman for help. He told me he would
send the police; but, by that time, my husband already had called
the police and an ambulance. The house started to fill up with
my husband's friends that were not too near the house. I do not
know who called them, but only men come.
Then the ambulance came and took me to Coney Island Hospital,
arriving there at 10 a.m. My husband, the police, and his
friends were talking to an Italian doctor. I began complaining
about my ear, and they put a drop in it. They kept me there all
day, waiting for an available ambulance that would transfer me to
another hospital, but I did not know for what. I thought it
would be for a physical examination. Later in the evening, they
pushed me in a white van and injected my arms until we arrive at
the hospital. That was King's County, where my husband, police
and his friends were already waiting for me, and talking with a
doctor as they approach me. Then I saw may funny people and I
realized what was going on. I told the doctor that all we needed
was a marriage counselor, but he ordered me to underdress
completely and gave me a very strong medicine to drink and
started to inject me again. I tried to refuse and protest, but
nothing would help for I was in their hands. They laughed and
put me in a chair, sending me to a ward where I saw all these
funny people that I was afraid of. I did not have a choice, and
this was against my will.
The next morning, I called the nun, asking for help. She
promised to come, but she would send a priest first. I spoke
with the priest, but he was not very much help. In fact, I
noticed that he was talking to me and looking around at the same
time in fear.
My husband came to see me, and I begged him to take me out of
there. He laughed at me again and said that I was going to be
transferred to Pilgrim Hospital in Long Island. I was very angry
at his attitude, but helpless. I asked the nun to get me a
lawyer, but she refused. She was coming to see things, and that
it was just terrible what they did to me. She may very well that
I was not sick, and that was not justice at all.
The days went by, and I was still there. They stuffed me with
strong pills and drinks, which I managed not to swallow for I
knew they would make me very sick. I started drinking plenty of
water, and the nurses used to come and slap my hand in order to
drop the cup. They did that several times. I started to eat a
little and began to feel better. The nun sent me some fruits and
desserts; but the way they treated me there was terrible, not
even an animal deserves such behavior. One day I was walking in
the corridor and two nurses jumped on me and injected my backside
and pushed me into the gymnasium where all the mixed patients,
male and female, were at play. I was so drowsy that I sat on a
bench.
I tried to talk with the doctor that they assigned to me, Dr.
Sinkman, but every time I asked him, he gave me the same answer,
"I have no time, I have no time," and would walk away. I asked
for another doctor since I wasn't satisfied with only his
opinion, but he looked at me with a sarcastic face and said, "you
are stock to me." (I am using the very same words that he said
at that time.) He laughed and walked away.
Another day, this lawyer, Mr. Kaplan, came with papers for me to
sign for the transfer to Pilgrim Hospital. When I refused, he
says that I will have to go to court according to the hospital
rules. I agreed to go to court because I thought I would have a
chance to speak up .... But again he came back a few days later
with the same papers and the same words. I made it perfectly
clear that I would not sign anything that is against my will.
I spoke about the whole thing to the nun, and she said to go
ahead with the court business, and that she will be at the
hearing. I gave her the name and address of a lawyer along with
a letter, so he will be there, too.
When the day came to go to the mini hearing, the nun was there
but not the lawyer. I kept asking for him, but the nun kept
saying that he promised to be there. The hospital provided me
with a lawyer by the name of Mr. Engle. The trial started, and
the lawyer asked Mr. Sinkman, the doctor, for background on the
case, and evidence. He also asked for the Coney Island records.
He was really confused and would only say that I was incoherent
when he called me to his office. The truth is that he was
incoherent himself, and a liar. So the judge said to Mr. Engle,
are you with us or not? The judge's name was Nichols. They
postponed the hearing.
After we left the room, the nun told me that never in her life
(and she had been in courts before) had she seen such a pig of a
judge. Those were her exact words.
The days passed by, and they kept me there, treating me worse
than an animal. I tried to get the nun on the phone, but they
would hang up on me, saying the time was over, etc. They also
would send the most dangerous patients in the same room.
I wanted to talk to Mr. Engle, the lawyer, but they kept saying
he was not in the office, etc... Finally, one day I sent a
message with a social worker and he came, but he appeared to be
very frightened to be seen with me. He told me that the
administration had discharged my case, but the doctor was keeping
me there, and he left.
I called the nun, and when she came, I told her everything. She
went to the administration office, as I instructed her to do, and
talked with the director of the hospital. She came back and told
me that he was not available, but that she spoke with someone
else there. She tried to get the doctor, but the told her that
he already left the hospital. She insisted on signing out for
me. Finally they said the doctor was on the phone, and she went
t talk with him. When she came back from the conversation with
the doctors, she signed the papers and we went to the convent on
251 West 14th Street, New York, N.Y.
When we arrived, she called my husband on the phone asking for
some clothes. He was furious when he came and saw me free. We
talked and I told him that we could forget the whole thing and
start all over again. But he gave me a very cold look and said I
was a dead woman. He asked me for the key to the safe deposit
box, since I changed from a small one to a large one and put only
my name and the baby's on it. Then he said that in the coming
week, we would go together to the box and give him all the
contents, and he left.
The nun told me that the best thing would be to go to Spain the
next day. Since it was Saturday, they would not expect me to
move from there without getting the safe deposit box. she paid
the fare and gave me $200.00 in advance for my expenses. I
signed a receipt which she would also send me a bank form for her
to get into the box. Then she put me on the Iberian Air Lines of
Spain.
When I arrived in Spain, the first thing I did was to get a
through a physical examination, and all kinds of tests. I found
out that my right ear drum was broken from the blow that my
husband gave me that day I wanted to make a phone call.
I also called my husband on the phone and tried to make him
understand, instead he was very angry and told me not to bother
calling anymore because he was going to change the number. I
also called his brother in Italy and sent him a letter, but
nothing helped.
I talked with the nun on the phone and she told me not to come
back to the U.S., but to go to another country and start all
over, that I was still young and well prepared for any position,
because she said this time they are not going to put you in a
hospital, and they will shoot you in the streets. I was
terrified and helpless.
I received a letter from the nun enclosing a bank form for me to
sign. I went to the American Consulate in Bilbao, Spain, and
legalized the power of attorney in order for her to enter the
safe deposit box. I registered the letter and mailed it. I also
told her to open another safe deposit box near the convent, under
both names, her's and mine, and to transfer the contents, so it
would be convenient at my return to get there, and not to go to
Brooklyn, since I am in much danger.
Another day she called me on the phone and told me that she got
the letter, went to the bank and took all the jewelry and had it
with her. The rest she left there because it was heavy to
carry (I have silver things) and the documents. She added that in
the evening, Mr. Lavine, the lawyer, called upon her warning her
not to interfere and to give everything to my husband. She
appeared to be very upset.
I decided to come back in spite of her warnings of being in
danger. I came to Canada and stayed with some diplomatic friends
that I knew before. It happened to be the Consul of Spain in
Ottawa. I was in their house as a guest for a month. After I
explained the whole situation they recommended a lawyer in New
York that was supposed to be very efficient. His name was Mr.
Hayton Stannaged at the Empire State Building, N.Y., N.Y.
Telephone 212-524-0830. I went to the New York office to see the
lawyer and then to see the nun at the same time.
First I went to see Mr. Stannaged and he told me that he will get
in touch with Mr. Lavine and Mother Maria Garcia and let me know.
Then I went to the convent to see the nun and collect my things,
but then I arrived, she started to give excuses. Finally she
came with a little bag and gave me a few things or pieces of
jewelry. I asked for the rest, but her expression on the face
was very grave. She said that it was all she had and I told her
how I have an inventory to everything. She said she gave my
husband what she thought was his and she wanted to be fair.
Naturally I was angry and told her how I trusted her integrity
and how she told me over the phone not to give anything to my
husband because he had no intention of giving me anything, etc...
So I told her that the power I gave her was to protest my
interest, for that was the only thing I could count on. Then she
was intimidating me, saying not to talk anymore because I was
going to be the loser. I left the convent with a broken heart
and the little things she gave me. I went back to Canada and
waited there for the lawyer to call me.
A few weeks later I came back to the States to see Mr. Stannaged
and he told me that the baby was already out of the country, that
he had a meeting with my husband and Mr. Lavine and that they
will give me some papers to sign a Santo Domingo divorce. I
refused and told them I want to go through U.S. law, not Santo
Domingo Law. He refused to give any more help. I asked who was
going to pay for the operation on my ear that the doctor told me
I must have, and he said nobody. I was very discouraged and
helpless. I tried very hard to settle my situation and get my
baby back, but every time they contacted Mr. Lavine, everybody
drew back.
In 1974 my husband started to tell me to leave the house and go
away leaving the baby too, because the coming year, 1975, we
wouldn't be together anymore. I told him if that is your desire,
the door is wide open, he was the one that should leave for only
he wanted to part. Nevertheless, I thought he was bluffing, and
did not really believe him, besides, I figured that if he had
planned to leave me, I would remain in the house with the baby.
I put the pieces together and saw that he had everything
premeditated for he used to say to me he was going to leave me,
but the time did not arrive yet, and on account of me he didn't
going to lose this house, etc.
Also, if we had an argument about the old woman he would get very
angry and go with his fingers directly to my eyes saying he would
pull them off and leave me blind.... Only God knows what I have
been through with him.
Once he had an accident at work. He got burned with the steam
from an open valve. He had severe burns over his face, chest,
and arms. They took him to a New York hospital and called me at
the office. When I arrived there, I did not recognize him. He
called me because I was passing by looking for him. He cried
like a baby, and said that if he will have to live with scars on
his face, he will shoot himself.... When everything was over,
thank God he was lucky. the doctor told him, you're a lucky man
to have such a wife. Then he came home to recover and I took
good care of him.
On another occasion he was very sick to his stomach. We rushed
him to an emergency room in a Brooklyn hospital and they did not
know what it was and said he had to be operated on immediately.
I thought it was cancer because they said he had a tumor. He was
in intensive care for ten days. During that time he was
insulting the nurses with dirty words. I was ashamed when I went
to visit him and the other patients were telling me that he was
very rude. I asked them to excuse him because he was sick. Thank
God he pulled through. He came home and I took good care of him.
I just don't understand how a human being can forget everything
so easy and do such harm to my life. It has to be a real sick
person, even animals respond to kindness, love, and care.
Another sort of problem we use to have was that someone
introduced him to a man that just arrived from Italy. My husband
got involved with him so deep that he was mistreating me. When
that man use to come to the house, they kissed and hugged each
other in my presence, and the change of looks was just incredible
to me. I have to confess that our intimate relationship was very
poor .... from his part, so I refused to let him come to my
apartment. So my husband took him to work in his job and also
introduced a girl to him to marry in order to remain in this
country. They had a baby and I was forced to become a good
mother. He used to give very generous bonuses and gifts to the
baby, even with my own money, since I always had a joint account.
This man was imposing and demanding so much of my husband, that I
felt uncomfortable when he was around.
One day I asked this friend who introduced this man to my
husband, that I felt uncomfortable when he was around.
One day I asked the friend who introduced this man to my husband,
what was going on, that I didn't like their behavior; but they
just kept quiet. The old woman was also asking my husband when
the Lacuna affair was going to end. That gave me more to think
about, and I always had been a loyal and faithful wife, good
housekeeper, and mother.
I could go on telling many things, but I feel that I don't have
to go on every detail. I tried to be as brief as possible.
Washington, October 29, 1980 -- Madrid July 13, 1978 -- Madrid July 24, 1978
Peace Park | Reopen Pennsylvania Avenue
Proposition One | Current Events