Let's Talk About Domestic Violence. It affects everyone, regardless of race, class, or background, and often remains hidden.

Just three months into my marriage, my husband attacked me one night, tying me up with a phone cord. As I struggled to break free, I promised myself that I would never go through that kind of abuse again. The very next day, I filed for divorce and moved on with my life. That night, I found strength in the memory of Mrs. Mulligan, a neighbor from my childhood in London.

I still remember the first time I met her family. A moving truck pulled up to their new house, but the movers left the furniture on the sidewalk because her husband refused to pay to have it carried upstairs. With boxes and bags scattered everywhere, Mrs. Mulligan instructed her six kids to sit on the steps. At thirteen, I felt the urge to help and offered to keep an eye on them, even though no one asked me to. While she was hauling boxes and heavy furniture up three flights of stairs, I kept wondering when Mr. Mulligan would show up to lend a hand, but he didn’t appear until later in the evening. A tall, muscular man finally came up the steps, shooing the kids inside, and then coldly yelled at Mrs. Mulligan, “I hope my dinner is ready.”

In the years that followed, my mom and Mrs. Mulligan became good friends as neighbors (I call them neighbor friends since my mom never saw her again after we moved). Mrs. Mulligan would often drop by for tea, and sometimes they’d even have breakfast together. One conversation I overheard stuck with me. Mrs. Mulligan confided to my mom, "Every morning when he leaves for work, I pray that God will send a truck to run him over. And every day, when I hear his footsteps coming up the stairs, I wish I had the courage to do it myself."

Years later, my mom told me she heard that Mr. Mulligan had passed away. "It took forty years... but she’s finally free now," my mom said. Then she added, "Mine took fifteen. Promise me that if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, you’ll leave the very next day." (Marcia P. Samuels)