![]() |
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.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
![]() |
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!