Dear Daughters,

I was browsing through our local bookstore awhile back and came upon a new book by a Grand Rapids author.  Being the book lover that I am, I bought it and started on it that night. 

When Angels Fight is an autobiography about a woman born and raised in Grand Rapids, Michigan, about 7 miles from our house, Leslie F. King.  When she was 15 years old, after living a life of abuse as a child, she was befriended by a man – C – who saw her walking outside and crying.  He pulled up in his car and took her to dinner, bought her clothes and listened to the sad story of her home life.  He told her he loved her and she should be treated much better than she had been.  He said she was beautiful, and brought her around to his other friends, introducing her as his girlfriend.  Slowly, she gave him her trust as he continued to treat her like a queen – until one night he didn’t. 

She woke up after being drugged, as another man was using her body any way he liked.  From that night on Leslie became the property of C and he became her pimp.  At only 15 years old she was trapped into a life of sex trafficking.

The Stroll, conveniently close to the house that I now lived,

was where women were prostituted every day and every night,

where police occasionally patrolled, where men came to pay for sex.

Leslie was the youngest woman in The Stable and quickly learned there were quotas to meet every night, and if the quotas weren’t met there were beatings or some other punishment.  She was given the street name Candy and learned to survive unthinkable and unspeakable horrors.  She took valium and alcohol simply to survive her day-to-day life out on The Stroll (Division Avenue in Grand Rapids).

When her family found out where she was and what she was doing they tried to bring her back home, but she would run – always run.  In and out of jail, back on the street, learning her trade so well that she became proud of how much money she could make in a night – always trying to become the pimp’s favorite and become worthy of his love.  But it never happened, she was no different than the other women in The Stable.  She was used, abused and ultimately just survived as a human being.

Years of life on the streets eventually took their toll.  Increasingly she became hopeless and some nights were simply unbearable.  She had lived her life at animal level for so many years, confusing abuse with love and was beginning to lose hope of going forward.  Sometimes, when she would cry out to God – in anger, distrust and frustration – miraculously there was someone to pick her up when she was laying on the side of a road where a john had disposed of her, leaving her for dead.

Working her trade not only in Grand Rapids, but around the country – at Super Bowls, NCAA Final Four, Kentucky Derby, Rose Bowl and any other national event –  there was always payment for the pimps and their girls, especially where there’s big money and booze.

In all those cities, at all those events, whether I traveled with my pimp or on my own,

I knew one thing: I would never, ever not make money because johns are everywhere.

And then, when Leslie was 35 her life hit bottom, she swallowed enough pills, drank enough alcohol and smoked enough crack with a plan to die, yet again cried out to God.  Through a long string of miraculous events, she called her mom to pick her up, checked herself into rehab and slowly but surely became sober.  God’s angels won over the devil’s. 

That was 22 years ago, and since then Leslie started Sacred Beginnings Women’s Transitional Program, which has served over 3,500 women in several Grand Rapids locations.  Some women come and relapse, others stay clean and go to college, get married, build a career.  Some have died.  The pictures of these women adorn a wall of the home office of Sacred Beginnings downtown Grand Rapids.  One side of the room is filled with pillows of all shapes, colors and designs, available for women to hold onto and cry into when they finally decide they want out of the life.

The hearts of the workers we met a few weeks ago are filled with love, often times tough love, yet they never give up hope.  A few nights a week, Leslie and others walk the same streets where they used to work, letting the girls know someone cares, that there is a safe place for them to land.

When angels fight, God’s angels always win.

Love, Mom