CHAPTER ONE - A Little Girl

Chapter One

A Little Girl

When I was young, I literally had the world by a string. Obviously I had youth, was smart, funny and pretty. I was athletic, cocky and a tom boy that not even boys could hold a candle too. I was a perfect pain in the ass for any parent. Defiant, strong willed, opinionated, questioned everything, especially authority and determined to conquer any and all challenges that came my way. I was a Dombrowski. Everything I did, I did well, and life was a challenge of prizes all mine for the taking. Now this is not to say that life as a young girl was not difficult as it was, a country girl, it did however make the victories in my life so much grander. I would venture to say, that I was also a nightmare child for any ‘normal’ parent, thank God my parents were not ‘normal’.

I was the oldest of four children born to my mother, Betty Sales-Stumpf-Dombrowski. She was eighteen years old when she gave birth to me. 

My father was from Belgium, a legal immigrant with a visa who had just travelled to the United States to join the American military. In the 1960’s the world admired the U.S. and my father being born in the concentration camps of Dachau when liberated by the US in 1942, well—he as a young man of age 18 like all who come to America have dreams and held the US in the highest of regards. He was sponsored by a family from Beloit, Kansas to learn the English language and work at a co-op as a feed sacker- his goal to join the American military. He met my mom instead.

The apple does not fall far from the tree, like my mother, it was easy to see how my father fell so in love with my mother. I imagine the purest love between the two. And it was. Two 18 year old kids in the 60’s the decade of peace and love, camping at the Kansas lakes (my mother a native Kansan) my father just learning English-French was/is his primary language. I even found the lake that they both so often frequented. They fished and camped at every chance they could get at Lake Kannapolis in western Kansas.

I was born 9 months later after one of their camping trips, in 1965. I was a wanted child—imagine that, they actually tried to get pregnant; they loved each other that much. Then they had me….life B.C. – my mom lovingly used to say BC stood for life “Before Claudine”- she said I could take any way I wanted- good or indifferent, but that life would never be the same after you met me.

My father wanted a girl; he even had my named picked before I was born. I asked him one day why he had named me Claudine- he replied “I wanted you to have a totally French name’- well so here I am. Claudine—the last name Dombrowski really a derivative from the Ukraine in fact Romania where my grandmother was before her imprisonment in the concentration camps during WWII. A Gypsy of Roma, and in my imagination Vlad the impaler aka Dracula, maybe this is where I inherited my love for horror movies and books? Likely not, my mom was a avid fan of horror as I am and as is my daughter, so it’s a maternal thing. Interesting though none the less.

Dombrowski original spelling is Dombrovsky – Yes, Russian.

A note here: my mother’s father—was in the 2^nd wave of Normandy invasion, He was in the US Army. I find it quite ironic in that my grandfather helped to liberate my own father when he was a child. Had it not been for that, my father may not have survived; hence, I would not be either. When my father came here from Europe and when he and my mother were married, my grandfather gave his daughter away at the wedding to a man who was born in a concentration camp that he helped to liberate. No wonder my father had such a high regard for the US. As did my WWII grandfather CLARK C. Sheldon, God rest his soul, January 18^th, 1998.

My mother was also very athletic; she was a swimmer and a tennis player. My father, well he swam the English Channel. I later learned as an adult that – that is pretty cool thing. So, I guess you could say I was destined to be as such, athletic, swimming is my love, and of course a pain in the ass as I was treated as a princess “PACHA”  French for ‘ruler of the heart’, my nick name my father had given me as a baby and the same attitude I carried throughout my youth. See their union was not a farmer John and Betsy the milkmaid simplicity so I guess international and time through history and back around is a better description.

By the time I was age 16, my grandfather-the WWII one had taught me to ride my own motor cycle. I went to my 1^st Sturgis riding with WWII vets on my own bike, with honor. I was not a typical biker girl—I was a driver in control of my own destiny, grandpa taught me how to not be, but how to be—never get drunk, but secrets to drinking asshole under the table, and I dressed accordingly to the rules of the road.

In fact my mother also rode a bike—it was her bike that I learned on, later changed that poor Honda 360 into a dirt bike, had been stopped as a kid in Hayes Kansas, by a cop in VW rabbit –(I kid you not—I could have out run that dude but I was young and well his sirens were not rabbit style) for underage driving and no Motor cycle  Drivers License, mom did not know any of this, she worked nights at the hospital and my brother little Joe and I, well we were more than ornery kids on a hot summer in a small town, she was sleeping and I wanted to keep it that way shhhhh. J

At the age of 15, my whole world changed. I was an emancipated minor. See, I told you I was hell on wheels- not that I was really hell--- I just was bored to easily with peer group age oriented stuff. I was never a ‘bad’ person, always extremely compassionate, I found I had no patience for the non human ignorant and now a days would be called political bullshit. I used to think I was an alien, sent to earth for some punishment from my home planet against humanity. lol

So, I got all my Drivers Licenses’ still have my Motor Cycle license, It was ‘strongly recommended’ that I no longer attend high school- ( apparently I was not appropriate for the sheep following classes) I then started college –( which later in family court would be used against me as failure to complete HS) where I began to pursue a degree in Nursing. Ok, so I was a bit immature for college so I partied for two years, waited tables at a truck stop night shift, had a blast had my own house, paid my own bills, had my own car, motor cycle—then I took a bunch of phys Ed classes for a year, 60 credit hours—you had to have 30 if you were a HS drop out-- and at age 18 joined the army.

Nursing or medical has always been a part of my life. My mother as a young mother herself worked two jobs and paid her way through nursing, she was a PA, CCRN, coronary care specialist who worked experimental medicine in Anaheim, CA before her death. I had no choice really than to go into medicine. Mom would say that I if I wanted to be anything I had to be a nurse 1^st, so I could afford to pay for whatever else I wanted to be. Mom was very wise.

So at age 18, I was an army combat medic. And still having the time of my life. Not old enough to drink legally, but on the base at Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio, TX. my barracks was atop the hill of the PX.. I legally could drink on base. We had so much fun. Then we would run 10 miles the next morning—AIT.. (known as Advanced Individual Training)  and if you fell out of a run – bye, bye party time with your buds. You could stop and puke—that was cool but don’t fall out ever. I never did.

My battalion was a mix of air born rangers, green berets and was ran by a female CO-(who hated her own sex) there were about 500 men and 60 women. This was a combat slot, combat medic. And like the tom boy I am…. was thinking ok, medical but helicopters oh yeah!! I was in heaven. A huey chopper sounds and felt like a Harley on a ride to Sturgis with gramps and his WWII gang. I even learned to repel out of those choppers. About 6 years later they came out with the black hawk, I recall them saying how they would make it for en re ambulance style, I don’t think they ever really did use black hawk for this, I was pretty much out of the military by this time.

I was in and out of the military for what my DD-214 says: 10 years and some months—long ago lost it.

During a time I was not in—I was age 23 at this time I had gone to beauty school—and owned my first business. The hair port—which I later sold for profit after 5 years, bought a fancy fifth wheel hitch hiker with hydraulic sliding dining room and bedroom—designed by Fleetwood—plush carpet white oak cabinets. I then lived on the beach in Corpus Christie, till I went broke and came back to Kansas, I became a MHT- mental health tech at Topeka State hospital, found my passion where I could apply nursing.

 I went active duty army again in 1993-1994—civilian contract. I stayed in Kansas did emporia state university for my nursing; the military paid for it all and paid me a salary. I signed 6 years to the army, and did one weekend a month while on active duty civilian contract. I was pregnant with Rikki during this time, CHAMPUS even paid for my literal million dollar baby. Rikki, she was over a million dollars in medical due to all the violence I endured while pregnant with her.. I was age 30 when Rikki was born.