17 November 2014

“It’s All About A Girl…”

Valerie Anne & Father d'Philip, 18 November 1983

North Carolina, in the area where Rachel’s family lived and worked, was called “The Research Triangle Park” and her father was a chemist who helped develop the synthetic fabric of Rayon as well as something to do with lithium ion batteries. Her brother too, also a scientist, was working on some top secret government project and still living at home with his folks. Her mother, who had never worked a day in her life, was the classic Southern Belle, very prim and proper but with a mean, inflexible streak that often showed itself towards me when we arrived on their doorstep in mid August of 1983. Rachel was six months pregnant and clearly showing, she was sick all the time and when we got to Raleigh, it was so hot outside that Rachel couldn’t leave the house very often so I explored the region on my own in between job hunting interviews. I had my classic rock and roll look when we first got there, my long naturally curly hair past my shoulders, my ever present beard thick and bushy. I dressed casually, for comfort and based on my mood. That soon changed at the constant and unrelenting coercion of this conspiracy between Rachel, her hell bent mother and her close friend, the lesbian maternity nurse Dawn. Every day, anytime, I was being harassed about my looks. I was reminded that I needed to fit in to find a good job, I was ridiculed for my hippy rags and patchouli smelling hairy ass too. Within weeks of being there I cut my long curly hair very short, I completely shaved off my beard and went shopping at a hoity-toity department store for some dress shirts, ties and a couple of business suits. I paid for a professional resume, signed up with an employment agency and started talking to a business coach.

By Labor Day, I certainly looked and felt like a completely different person. The day after Labor Day I was hired by The Combined Insurance Company, a Chicago company started by Positive Mental Attitude guru W. Clement Stone, as an insurance customer service agent. That was a fancy title for a job as a traveling insurance salesman. The company sent me to Richmond, Virginia for a three week training course and after I passed my insurance adjusters exam, in the first week of October, I started in the field. The field was a very big territory to work, I was traveling by car so I traded in the old ’72 Ford LTD Station Wagon for a new 1982 Chevy Cavalier. During those first couple of weeks Rachel and her mother found and rented a small, cute two bedroom townhouse in a little berg called Apex, just southwest of Raleigh. Together they started to fill the townhouse with pieces of furniture, making a little home, building a little nest just started playing house with my money and good credit. I always left my checkbook at home for Rachel to take care of bills and whatnot, I had a company credit card for my road expenses so for several weeks that autumn and we used system which seemed to work. I did fairly well with The Combined Insurance Company in the beginning, I was really into the whole “PMA” (Positive Mental Attitude) model of motivation and management. I sold a lot of new policies, upgraded even more existing policies and won something every single week I was out on the road. All the bosses liked me and started talking about this becoming a career for me. I wasn't so sure of that, but for the time being, I played along.

The third week of November I was leading a small team of salespeople in a little border town called Lumberton, North Carolina. It was a particularly intense week, we wrote a lot of new policies and every night we’d celebrate at the motel bar with many drinks, some dancing and flirting.  On Thursday night, the 17th of November, I was in the bar with the four other salespeople and one of the women, who very drunk, was making very explicit passes at me by rubbing me between the legs, nibbling on my neck and whispering dirty thoughts into my ear. I was thinking about going back to her room with her but decided to instead call Rachel. It was still early evening and next week, on the 25th of November, was the due date for our baby. I went to my room, dialed our number but there was no answer. We had no answering machine so I changed from my work clothes into some sweat pants and t-shirt, flipped on some old movie and tried calling again a little later. An hour or two went by and I tried several more times, but there was no answer. It was sometime just past midnight when the guy I was sharing the room with stumbled in with some girl.  I was still on the phone, still trying to get a hold of Rachel.  “Dammit!” I slammed the phone down and then, while calling her parent’s phone number, I explained to the drunk guy and his friend, “I think there’s something up at home, with the baby…”
“Who’s your baby?” the guy cracked himself up and flopped on the bed, “Shit!”
“Is the baby born yet?” asked the girl, “What do you mean?”
“I think I need to leave…” I started to explain when Rachel’s brother, Mark answered, “Mark? It's me...”
“Hello?” he said and repeated, “Hello, hello?”
“Mark? It’s d’Philip, what’s up?” I could feel it, I knew it, “Did she have the baby yet?”
“No, they just got to the hospital…” Mark explained, “Mom and dad just left to meet them there...where are you?”
“Lumberton.” I answered and asked, “Who is Rachel with?”
“Dawn.” Mark was talking about Rachel’s best friend, the lesbian nurse, “She’s been with Rachel all week.”
“Shit…” I hissed, “Thanks Mark, gotta fly!”

I hung up, grabbed my bags and loaded the car quickly. The hospital in Raleigh was about 100 miles from where I was in Lumberton but at some time past midnight, I was racing along the empty highways at nearly 90 miles an hour. I made the 2 hour drive in a little over an hour, but I was too late.  Rachel gave birth to a baby girl at 2:07am on Friday the 18th of November in 1983! “She’s beautiful!” I walked into the after birth room and saw Rachel holding the baby close. I leaned forward and planted a soft gentle kiss on the child’s head and then smiled up at Rachel, “She is perfect!”
“I know.” Rachel was glowing and even looked beautiful as she lifted the baby into my waiting arms, “What should we name her?”
“I want to name her Valerie…” I couldn’t take my eyes off this little miracle in my trembling arms, “Valerie Anne Chalmers.”
 “Anne, after me?” Rachel was referring to her middle name, “I like that.”
“Yeah…” I was lying, for me the name Anne was for my father’s late mother, my Nana. Our baby’s first name, Valerie was because I believed she was conceived on Valentine’s Day as well as because the name demonstrated valor. I felt since I picked the girl over the rock and roll dream, it showed my valor as a human being.  Her name would simply be, “Valerie.”



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Available Now Everywhere!

The above excerpt from “My BiPolar Reality; How Life Goes On…” is a significant turning point in my life, as it is for anyone who has experienced the birth of their first child. There are so many different and complex feelings for anyone that experienced this joy of becoming a parent for the first time. There is a lot of happiness, especially if all is well for baby and mama, but there are unique and distinctively “male oriented” feelings the father experiences. At least, this father experienced a range of emotions, from that euphoric joyfulness to self-inflicted forms of terror and fear. There is a suddenly new set of responsibilities and expectations. It’s difficult to manage, for even the most level headed fellow, when you become a father for the first time, when you hold that little baby in your arms, there is a rushing flush of emotional tides which washes across you and truly changes who you are a man. You are not just a man now, you are a father…you become somebody’s dad! It’s different, although equally as joyful and complex, with subsequent children, but there’s something special when it’s your very first time. The feeling that this tiny little baby is now going to depend on you to provide everything this child needs, from the material matters and shelter and financial obligations but more importantly, this child is also going to depend on you, the dad, for guidance and help and support and encouragement and sympathy and most importantly, a lot of Love, for the rest of your life. That changes you and if you are fortunate, it’s a change for the better. I know it was for me, from that moment forward until this very moment now, it’s still and always been about the girl…Then about my other children too, but over the years my driving force is completely fueled by this Love for my children, by my challenge to provide them with everything they need, everything I can as best as I can for the rest of my surreal Life!




Valerie Anne Chalmers 2000
13 November 1983- 16 April 2001

My first born child, Valerie Anne should be here to celebrate her 31st Birthday on this 18th of November in 2014 but she was murdered when she was 17 years old. That, however, is a story for another time (or better yet, get a copy of my book and read for yourself). On this day, all this week, we as a family celebrate Valerie’s birth and short, tragic life. This girl ignited something inside of me which forever changed me and I am beyond obligation to keep her memory, her Love, her smile and that delicate, precious soul I helped start alive for my other three children, for my family, for myself…but for her, Valerie Anne, I want the world to know how very special you are to me. I am so Grateful for having you in my Life and I most certainly would not be the person I am today if it were not for both your Life and Death…Bless you my precious angel, shine brightly so daddy sees your star every morning, just before dawn, a little left of Jupiter, there you are…part of the universe. I Love You.




"My BiPolar Reality; How Life Goes On..." published 2014 by The Intrepid Editor Press Ltd. is available at www.dphilipchalmers.net (LIMITED first edition, authographed copy) OR at your favorite purveyor of books, magazines and gifts...Just ask for it!