Letter to Don Boroughs, Senior Editor, U.S.News & World Report

Copy ---
Karen Kline

Santa Fe, New Mexico, 87505
                                                                              12/9/95
Don Boroughs
US. News & World Report
2400 N St. NW
Washington, D.C. 20037

Dear Mr. Boroughs,

I went to the post office yesterday evening and found your letter. I only
go to the post office once a week now. Thank you for arranging money to
cover my coming and going to Kinko's. I appreciate it. I think U.S. News
was right not to reimburse me for the overdraft charges. I wouldn't have
given the money to the bank, anyway, since the bank had recently taken
almost all of three hundred dollars I'd gotten the insurance company to
pay me for necessary repainting due to the leak last spring. Which money
I was really going to use for the phone or car insurance or something. If I
were going to make payments on my outstanding credit debt, I would
have divided the money, equally, between all of the institutions to whom I
owe money. Which is what I was doing before the miraculous leak.

Miraculous, because if there were one thing I would have opted to correct
in this house, it would have been the poor water pressure. Only when I
had money I could never work out how to correct it.

Then, when I came home from the Grand Canyon, where a bit of action
prior to the end of my story takes place, I could hear water running.
Which I tried to believe I didn't really hear. When I could deny it no
longer, I called the water company, who came and said yes, I had a half
gallon a minute leak. Somewhere under the slab.

I had someone come in to dig where a puddle was forming outside, where
he was sure the leak was, since there were bubbles rising to the top of the
puddle. But when that hole had been enlarged, my sidewalk had been
broken through, the cement of the front porch had given way to the
growing hole, and the water wasn't actually coming from the heating
system in the wall, nor, after moving the water heater, was the leak there,
the original hole was enlarged in the direction from which the water was
flowing, the water taking with it what my house had previously been
sitting on. Finally, a quintillion hours later, the leak was found between
my kitchen and living room. The pipe had been bent like a straw when it
had originally been laid. Less than two dollars worth of properly bent pipe
corrected the problem. The damages, however, were in the thousands by
this time.

The insurance man, Mr. Dark, seemed to take a dim view. But eventually
came through with everything that was reasonable. And everything that I
didn't need to pay for work that had been done, I used to pay down my
credit card bills. I had lived on my credit cards between commissions. So
for months after that I was free of the calls from 800 numbers of people
looking for their money.

Then my tenant left because of one of the other condo owner's dog. And
I discovered just what an impact our new mayor has had on tourism.
Where I used to get ten people a day looking at the condo, I now am
lucky to get one response to my ad a week. And then the New Mexican
pulled my ad, but didn't tell me ... only when I called them to change the
word Open to View, did they say they didn't run ads for people who don't
have phones.

Which brings me to today. I appreciated you saying, "I feared that things
have taken a turn for the worse for you, financially."

The thing is, I don't think things "have taken a turn for the worse." To me
this situation was inevitable from the time IRS took all of my money last
year, putting me on a downhill slope. When I wasn't left enough to go on
with my business, I could see I was also being left without a means of
stopping my descent, should a descent begin. And, the chance of nothing
going wrong in the very narrow eco-sphere I was left, so to speak, nothing
starting me on the slide downhill, was unlikely in the extreme.

It was precisely this to which I objected. This and losing my property that
was supposed to provide for me in my old age.

And what I still don't understand, is how legislators can understand that
spotted owls need certain things to live, without at the same time
understanding that IRS cannot clear cut a person's habitat, if that person is
expected to survive.

I'm meaning to write to David Kessler about this. I mean, I think IRS is as
detrimental to health as are tobacco companies. At least if the figure that I
read somewhere was correct: 2.3 million Americans were levied in a
recent year by IRS. My point is that if smoking leads to lung cancer, via
nicotine, then having all your money taken leads to child abuse, via stress.
Etc.

Again, I am so thankful to you for calling me. It amazes me that from the
time I explained this to you, and you listened, that I began sleeping again.
Not sleeping for months is really painful. Three hours a night/day is not
sleeping. Or at least not sleeping enough to avoid pain.

The phenomenon of being able to sleep after you listened to me, made me
understand how different it is to just listen to someone, saying yes, asking
questions that further understanding, but offering no advice. I have a
friend who does co-counciling, and who had described this to me. Though
she always offers advice. Mainly because she's worried about me. And I
do the same with her, since I want her to understand the birth mother's
perspective in adoption/foster situations. The child she was adopting is
apparently actually going back to his birth mother now, and I had to tell
Monica that if she didn't know me, this would probably not be happening
to her, since she thinks way more positive things about the birth mother
than she would if she didn't know me. My son, you see, in England, was
given to someone else. Now, you're thinking I'm a horrible mother. But
the fact was that it was illegal for me to work there. The Home Office
kept threatening to put me in prison for six months, fine me £500, and
deport me for working. And only when I saw my dossier did I see all the
letters from John, with whom I had been living, and who had told me he
would give me half his income for a year if I got a job, so that I cried and
cried, thinking I would never find such a remarkable and wonderful man
again. Each time I told him about a job I got, he wrote the Home Office
and turned me in for working illegally. Talk about creating a little crack in
someone's trust. (This is the story that editors there thought I should tell.)
Eventually I was crazy with the stress: this oriental man opened the door
of a phone kiosk once, while I was talking to someone, and I began
beating on him with my brolly till he left. I became terrified that I was
going to hurt my son. I felt as if I was too close to the edge of control. So
I put him in care. It goes on and on. My son was actually exceptionally
nice and co-operative. Yes, I know all mothers think that. But many
people contrasted him to their children since he did tend to say yes, rather
than no. And things like, "I get it for you." The upshot was that social
services gave him to someone who wanted another child. Gave away my
son. Certainly without my permission. And I could not get him back after
I moved here. In fact, once when I was going there to visit him, I was told
that he wouldn't be in London. Lucidly I'd had a dream to this effect prior
to that phone conversation. I hired a lawyer, got my Unitarian minister to
write a letter as well, and it was decided that he would be in London, after
all. Then I brought him here, and his preparation for his visit was being
instructed to hide his passport, so that I wouldn't steal it. Too intense.
There are more examples of behaviour that I found highly destructive, but
these give you the idea. Then the people he'd been given to decided they
didn't want him, after all. They'd already sent their son to a good school
and my son to the local no-cost school and introduced my son to drugs:
the man had been a back-up guitarist for major rock groups and thought
there was nothing wrong with marijuana. Which there may not be in a
secure environment. But it was not good for my son in that time and
place, judging by the drug related choices he is making today.

I have got to go back to my story. I am in the middle, literally, of a major
edit/rewrite. And a quite good agency in New York has said they will read
it. The last really good agency said it didn't deliver fast enough, and
wished me an agent with a pace similar to mine.

My forehead is incredibly furrowed, from thinking that if you hated this
letter, then the agent thing may be more difficult than I think, even with
the re-write and deletion of ten percent of the material.

Take care in South Africa.

Are you eating healthy things? Did you see the tomato thing reported on
national news, in relation to prostate cancer: reducing its incidence by
40%?

I made yogurt last night, since the makings for six weeks cost what
Yoplait, purchased at Sam's Club, costs for a week.

It was nice to hear from you. I'll call you on Monday, 12:30 p.m. my
time. I doubt you'll get this before you get back. Still, I'll go mail it now.

        Sincerely,
                     Karen Kline
                                            Karen Kline

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