Do you ever wonder where the angels go when babies cry alone in the dead of night? Or worse, by the bright light of the first days of summer, when the air is heavy with the smell of fresh cut grass and promise... Where were they when we needed them? Not here, Friend.
This is the real story of what happened to Charles Henry Barnes, who 'disappeared' one night during the summer of 1964. Disappeared? That's what people said. People love to talk, don't they? But I was there and I saw what she done!
Charles was a stern master. The townsfolk sometimes said that Charles tortured his children with electric shocks. Later on they joked that the reason Charles used electricity instead of burning them kids with cigarettes like in the movies, was because he didn't smoke.
On July 30th, 1949, at around noon, Annette Hoyt married Charles Barnes in that little, white church uptown. It was a simple ceremony on a day with nothing but sunshine and birds singing.
At precisely four p.m., on the same day, he had her in the barn helping with the milking. By a quarter after five, he had already slammed her up against a concrete wall for knocking over a five gallon bucket of milk. She rationalized that it was her fault really; she should have been more careful. She was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. By six thirty, I was already falling in love with her.