The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Friday, October 21, 1994               TAG: 9410190128
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON    PAGE: 01B  EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: Pam Starr 
                                             LENGTH: Long  :  121 lines

SAMARITAN HOUSE OFFERS HAVEN TO BATTERED WOMEN

WE LIVE IN THE LAND of the free, but millions of American women are prisoners in their own homes.

Every 15 seconds of every day, a woman is beaten somewhere in the United States. One of five women are physically abused, and one of three are emotionally or psychologically battered.

``Where were you?'' ``Who were you talking to?'' the batterer often will demand. ``Why are you looking at that guy?'' No matter what answer she gives, it will be the wrong one. And she'll have to pay for enraging him.

``I'm so sorry, baby,'' the batterer will say after giving his beloved a black eye or pushing her down the stairs. ``I swear I'll never hurt you again.'' The tears in his eyes are real, and he'll scoop his victim up in his arms and cradle her like an infant. ``Please forgive me,'' he'll implore. ``I love you.''

The victim, so relieved that the beating is over, if just for a while, will ignore her common sense. ``I love you, too,'' she'll say through her sobs. ``I forgive you.''

This cycle will repeat itself until something in her snaps, allowing a tiny shred of self-respect - the last one left - to push its way through the burgeoning crack in her soul. She realizes it's not going to get any better, that the beatings will never stop, and that she has a choice. She can allow this man to control every aspect of her life or take the kids and leave - for good this time.

That is the story of Franchon Hurd, but it could apply to any woman trapped in an abusive relationship. Hurd chose wisely. She took her three children and moved out while her abuser was at work.

``I got fed up with always being accused of doing something,'' said Hurd, holding 2-year-old Taylor on her lap. ``I went into labor six weeks early and he called me at the hospital. He told me `my baby's not due till July 6, so this baby must not be mine.'

``It really wears on your self-esteem. I started planning a time to leave.''

Hurd found refuge in the Samaritan House, a shelter for battered women and their families. October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month, and Hurd decided to publicize her story so that she can help other women in similar situations. Samaritan House operates six temporary shelters where families can stay 45 days, and five transitional homes where families can live for 18 months.

Ellen Cospito-Ferber, executive director, said that they hope to ``raise the consciousness of the public'' about the prevalence of domestic violence.

The enormous publicity surrounding the O.J. Simpson case has aided in that effort, she added.

``Right after Nicole was murdered our hotline action picked up,'' said Cospito-Ferber. ``She, as a sacrificial lamb, brought more attention and focus to the issue.

``The American Medical Association reported that more women come to emergency rooms as a result of domestic violence than from rapes, muggings and all other accidents combined,'' she continued. ``The March of Dimes said that domestic violence is the No. 1 cause of birth defects.''

Luckily, Hurd's daughter was born healthy. But Hurd is still trying to heal the physical and emotional wounds from the abusive three-year relationship. She moved in with a girlfriend, but her abusive boyfriend continued to call and threaten Hurd at the Little Creek Naval Amphibious Base where she works.

A few months later he appeared at her apartment. ``I just want to talk to you,'' he said. ``I promise I won't do anything.'' Hurd's friend believed him and opened the door. Within minutes he had dragged Hurd out of the apartment and beat her in the street. Police took him to jail, but his mother bailed him out. All he got was a two-year probation.

``Three times he found me,'' recalled Hurd. ``In June he trashed my apartment. After that I gave up on life. I stopped eating. I didn't want to live anymore.''

So Hurd, like many other women who feel trapped by their situation, attempted to kill herself with an overdose of Tylenol. She spent two weeks in the hospital, where she found out about battered women support groups and the Samaritan House. A sliver of light finally pierced the darkness. Hurd received counseling and started attending the weekly support group, something she continues to this day.

``The same problems I had before I landed in the hospital were still there, but I got rid of the ghosts,'' she said. ``I was able to set boundaries. I told him to grow up and go away.''

Georgiette Morgan-Thomas, domestic violence coordinator at the Samaritan House, said Hurd's story is so typical, any battered woman could have lived it. She calls violence in the home ``the ultimate betrayal.''

The abuser is usually a jealous, possessive, controlling man who needs to be in charge. But, added Morgan-Thomas, he is also the most charming man the woman ever met.

``When the man comes home there's an escalating period of rage, then an explosion of tension where he will physically or verbally beat her,'' said Morgan-Thomas. ``Then comes the honeymoon period. He'll bring her flowers, want to make love all the time, and apologizes for his behavior.

``She'll believe that he will change.''

The good news is that 75 percent of men don't batter, said Cospito-Ferber. But that means 25 percent do. And 75 percent of all women killed by their abusers are killed after an attempt to leave. That could be why so many battered women remain in abusive relationships.

Women like Fran, who left and got on with her life, are few and far between. She has lived in the shelter for three months but will be moving into her own apartment in a few days.

``What we've been able to provide for Fran we want to provide for hundreds of women,'' said Cospito-Ferber. MEMO: If you need help with your situation, call The Samaritan House hotline

24 hours a day, seven days a week, at 430-2120.

ILLUSTRATION: Staff photo by CHARLIE MEADS

Georgiette Morgan-Thomas, left, a coordinator at the Samaritan

House, helps client Franchon Hurd entertain her daughter Taylor

Hurd, 2.

FUND-RAISER

The Samaritan House will hold its first Nouveau Night fund-raiser

from 6 to 8 p.m. Nov. 21 at the Five-01 City Grill. Nouveau Night is

a wine extravaganza that will kickoff Samaritan House's first

capital campaign, ``Horizons Housing: Hope for Hurting Families.''

Funds raised will go toward the purchase and rehabilitation of a

six-unit apartment in Virginia Beach. The apartment will provide

transitional housing with 12-month renewable leases and ongoing

support programs to 12 families who are escaping domestic violence.

For more information, call 430-2642.

by CNB