Sasee Magazine

When the Sasee staff decided to highlight CASA (Citizens Against Spouse Abuse) in our April issue, I was excited. I knew what CASA did and felt this organization was important to our community. I called JoAnne Patterson, director of the Horry/Georgetown CASA district, and learned a lot in that brief phone call. What I was not prepared for was my meeting with Sissy Rutherford, vice-chair of the CASA board of directors and domestic violence survivor.

Sissy Rutherford is a successful professional woman who works as Administrative Manager for Coldwell Banker, her employer for the past fourteen years. Attractive and soft-spoken, Sissy is not what pops into my mind when I think, “abused woman.”

Sissy married her high school sweetheart in Wisconsin against the wishes of her parents. “Looking back now, I can see the signs of an abuser, but I had never dated anyone else. He wasn’t abusive before I married him.”

It didn’t take long for the abuse to start. Three months after Sissy married Todd he brutally attacked her; holding a gun to her head and raping her. The police were called; Todd went to jail, but Sissy remembers that after he was released she got her first, “Don’t ever call the police beating.” Sissy explained that in an abuser’s mind it’s never their fault for beating you up, it’s your fault and calling the police compounds your transgression.

The beatings became a common occurrence. One friend told Sissy that she’d never seen her without a black eye. Todd was jealous and insecure and monitored Sissy’s every move. At that time, she worked at a nursing home and her shift ended at five o’clock. If she wasn’t home by three minutes after five, Todd would be furious, accusing her of infidelity.

Life went on this way, and Sissy became pregnant with her first child, a son, Travis. Rather than bringing them closer, this caused the abuse to escalate. “He was a good dad, sort of,” Sissy says, “but, how can you be a good father when you don’t love and respect your child’s mother?”

Todd, like most abusers, came from an abusive home. His dad beat his mother regularly. “We lived with Todd’s parents for a while after our son was born, and they heard him beating me in the basement; saw me at the dinner table with my bruises and black eyes. But, they did nothing.”

Sissy did leave Todd, repeatedly, but always came back. She moved in and out of her parents’ home so many times they finally told her to make a choice, they were through moving her. I asked Sissy why she chose to keep going back to this man who so abused her.

“How did he convince me to come back? He would say he was sorry. He would do nice things and treat me like I wanted to be treated. I wanted so desperately for him to love me that I kept going back. I was brainwashed into thinking it [the abuse] was somehow my fault.”

When Travis was three, Sissy again tried to leave. “I remember Todd choking me in the bathroom, and I thought then that I was going to die looking at the bottom of a toilet.” Sissy agreed to give Todd custody of Travis, if he would just let her leave. Unfortunately, Todd then disappeared, taking Travis with him. Six weeks later, he called Sissy from Rock Hill, S.C., where he had moved, offering her the chance to come live with him and be “a wife and mother again.” Desperate to see her son, Sissy went, but things did not get better.

As the years passed, the abuse became more tortuous, more maniacal. Sissy had three more children and, most of the time, lived hand to mouth because Todd spent most of their money on drinking. He took her salary and demanded receipts for groceries and other necessities, keeping her isolated and dependent. After their fourth child was born, Todd beat Sissy with a sword, leaving bruises up and down her legs. At her six-week checkup, the doctor and nurses all saw the bruises, but said nothing. Sissy felt trapped and isolated. But, she had found a CASA safe house in her area.

“The first time I went I hated it. We slept in a room with 25 other women and children; it was cramped and crowded,” Sissy remembers. “When they told me my husband was an abuser, I didn’t want to believe it.”

Sissy’s life was the stuff of nightmares and horror movies. Todd tied her up and threatened to electrocute her; he told her he would cut her up and feed her to the fish. I asked Sissy why she didn’t get help from the police, and she told me that they were not always sympathetic. When the police would arrive, Todd would be very polite, while Sissy, feeling safe at last, would be a wreck; crying and screaming. Todd was able to portray Sissy as unstable and would laugh with the police about his crazy wife.

Only three stays per person are allowed at the CASA safe houses, otherwise the safe house becomes a part of the pattern of abuse. One of the last times Sissy was there, she left and picked Todd up from work. In the car, angry and already drinking heavily, he told her that when they got home she was going to get the beating of her life.

“I guess something clicked in me because I thought, no, I’m not; not today. I pulled into a gas station, jumped out of the car, left it in drive, ran into the restroom and locked the door until Todd left.”

From there, Sissy went back to the safe house and sat, staring at the wall, for twenty-four hours. She devised a plan to go back; one more time, get the children’s birth certificates and her important papers (Todd had hidden them), save a little money and leave – this time for good. This was March. By May Sissy had not been able to hide any money and could not find the records.

On Mother’s Day, also their wedding anniversary, Todd berated her all day long, screaming and cursing. The next morning, he got up and left for work, telling her he loved her, as if nothing had happened the day before. That was the final straw. Sissy packed up her children and left for Myrtle Beach, hoping her husband wouldn’t look for her there. She arrived at the CASA safe house in Myrtle Beach with nothing. Not one penny. She couldn’t find a job or a babysitter, and all too quickly, her time at the safe house was running out. Sissy was looking at life on the streets with four small children. In desperation, this frightened young mother turned it all over to God, asking Him to help free her from her life of abuse.

“My mother sent me $400, and I took it to Bob Bible Honda and told them I needed a car and only had $400. The very next day, they called and had found me a car. The same day, my housing came through, and I got a job and a babysitter.”

Three months later, Todd did find Sissy. “He called me, but the spell was broken. I knew I would never go back, so I told him that everyone in my neighborhood had his picture and would call the police if they saw him. This wasn’t entirely true, but it worked. He left me alone and disappeared.”

After twelve years of abuse, Sissy was finally able to end her marriage, but her ordeal was not over yet. Her youngest child, Stephanie, was killed in an accident shortly after the divorce was final. I saw the sadness in her eyes as she related this to me, but Sissy is a survivor.

Today, Sissy is happily married to Eric, who adopted her remaining three children. Together they were able to model what a marriage should be, and help repair the damage done to the children. CASA saved Sissy’s life.

“I get just as frustrated as anyone with the women I meet who won’t leave their abuser. They don’t realize how much better it can be. With CASA’s support and counseling, I was able to change my thoughts; I learned how much better life can be.”

Sissy’s children have also done well. Travis, the oldest, is married and has children of his own. Nathan, her middle son, works with Eric in their restaurant, Pizza Grilla, in Litchfield, and Melissa, the youngest, is attending the College of Charleston.

I asked Sissy what could we do to help women living with abuse, and she told me the only thing anyone could do was encourage them to call CASA. “Our trained counselors can help women see that there is more to life than beatings and abuse.”

There is a safe house in Horry County and one in Georgetown County, as well as outreach offices in Georgetown, Little River and Conway. But, money is tight. According to JoAnne, the office in Conway will soon close. And, with more and more women coming in for services, more counselors are needed. More than 500 women and children found shelter in these safe houses last year alone.

Sissy is passionate about her work with CASA. “It’s hard for us to keep going. Funding has been cut. Every time we lose a counselor I cry inside. For example, if the Little River office closes there may be a woman who can’t leave home long enough to come to Myrtle Beach. It is so important.”