JOSEPH MARIO PHAL Tacoma, Washington

Joe Phal is a convicted “Wife-Beater” ..I know because he beat the crap out of me.

This is for any woman (or anyone else) who is searching for Joe Phal, (Joseph Mario Phal) an aircraft maintenance mechanic and convicted felon who was born in Yap (12/8/1964) works in Kent and resides in the Tacoma area. (Please do a background check of your own to verify what I am about to write. Court documents can validate the abuse that I am about to tell you.)

Joe is a charmer. He preys on women who are trusting and have a good heart. I know~ I was one of them. He sometimes goes by the name Fall instead of Phal for anonymity. On the online dating sites (that he hasn’t been kicked out of yet) he starts his profile by saying that he is a “kind and gentle hearted man who is looking for a woman with all of the integrity and good character that any man would want.” Warning; Joe is NOT a kind and gentle hearted man and he will destroy your good character and integrity if you let him.

By law, Joe is a marked man, marked in a despicable way~ not from a bar room brawl with another man but from hitting a defenseless woman who was lying in bed when he came after her. A woman who was in fear for her life as he deliberately punched her in the face, breaking it. That woman was me. I am an abuse survivor with serious bouts of PTSD because of everything that happened to me. I’ve been choked, punched, kicked and spit on. I was pushed, thrown, shoved, bit and slapped. Currently I am seeing a therapist to try to correct the psychological damage from years of awful abuse at this man’s hands. All that is written here can be verified in court transcripts from the Island County Courthouse which is available to anyone who ask for it.

Now that I am free of you, Joe Phal, the pain and suffering that you inflicted on me for 14 years is finally able to reveal itself and it is here with a vengeance. I am NOT afraid of what you can do to me anymore.

You may be generous to friends with your time and money but as a romantic partner, you suck! I should have noticed the red flags when we first spoke on the phone all of those months. A married man pursuing a married woman under the guise of a friend is scum. I should have listened to all the people who warned me not to pursue my online relationship with you out of fear for my safety but I didn’t want to see what was obvious to everyone. I fell in love with you. Nine months later when we finally met, I found that everyone was right because the abuse started almost two weeks after I went to you. I often wonder now if there were close calls before then that I didn’t recognize because in my innocence (or rather ignorance), I had no way of knowing the signs…

It began as we were sitting on your couch. My hand was cupped behind your head. I involuntarily tapped your head with my fingers while laughing at a joke that you had told me. You asked me not to do it again but I forgot as I later laughed again and that was when it happened – You hit me with such brutal force that I sustained a hard blow to the back of my head. You yelled “How Does That Feel, Huh?” I was stunned and jumped up crying, and asked why you did that to me but you screamed for me to sit back down. I was in shock and fear so I did. In a crazy fit, you told me that in your culture, the head is a sacred part of the body and that you had warned me not to touch it. I said I didn’t know that because you had never told me! You yelled back that you had told me not to touch it. I was in Hawaii, far from my Montana home and carrying the shame of leaving my family for a strange man who I was warned about so I decided to save face, suck it up and try harder to make “us” work. I was always trying harder…always.. and always blaming myself for your anger when I couldn’t succeed.

I didn’t understand what your ex wife meant when she said “Cindy wont be able to handle a man like you.” but you knew and of course I found out when the physical abuse became more violent and frequent. I thought I deserved it for leaving my loved ones and moving so far away~ that fate was paying me back somehow. I didn’t speak of it to anyone so nobody knew what was going on but I think some folks could tell. You said you didn’t like how people in public looked at us.. You called them “racist” against you for being with a white woman. I think in reality, they just knew by the way I walked behind you or how I hung my head that I was your dog.

As I was acclimating my life to yours and trying to fit in to a military lifestyle, your Navy squadron left on deployment for Japan. I missed you and thoughtfully put together a care package for you and included everything that I felt you would like.. basketball shaped crackers, a leisure outfit, assorted sweets, a filigree framed photo of myself that was sketched at the mall for your nightstand along with a cuddly teddy bear with the words “I Love You” written all over it’s fur. It was nearly Valentine’s day so the bear seemed appropriate. I thought. I hurried to get your box to the post office before work and remember fish-tailing the car on ice under an overpass as I tried to drive faster to beat the clock. You were worth it. I was on the phone talking to you the day that your box arrived and was excited to hear how pleased you would be as you unwrapped your packages. You seemed thrilled at first but your joy turned to anger when you saw the stuffed bear. I heard the glass from my framed photo break as you screamed at me over the phone. You said the other guys would make fun of you because of that bear and asked if I thought you were a girl? You ripped up what was my sketched portrait in pieces and said that this was what you thought of me for sending the bear to you. I sobbed that I was sorry over and over again in the phone before finally hanging up. You called back in a calmer voice and apologized but the damage was already done. It was the first and last care package that I ever sent and it still makes me cry just to think about it.

You came back home by October. We were grocery shopping when I asked if we could buy a pumpkin to carve but you dislike Halloween and said “No”.. Being a woman who loves to dress up a house with decorations on holidays, I couldn’t help but break down crying in the store. It was just a pumpkin after all. You screamed at me all the way home for being upset about it. It was the first ugly incident of many after you returned and the beginning again of many tears.

You loved making me cry. It was as if you got some perverse satisfaction from it. I think of all the times I had to take your name calling and berating until I sobbed uncontrollably. You wouldn’t stop until I cried. If I didn’t cry over your cruel words towards me, you violently would tear down my parents and children until I cried. You always went for the tears, didn’t you? By attacking me verbally or physically, it didn’t matter. You needed to see me hurt like an addict needs their fix. My pain was your fix.

After your fix was fulfilled, you’d pull me close to you and promise me that it’s the last time. I tried to believe you as you held me in your arms. You would be sweet again and we would have days that were wonderful before the cycle repeated itself and you grew cruel towards me again.

You were like two Joe’s. The nice quiet guy who could be so thoughtful and generous around others and the evil Joe that nobody who knew us ever got to see. The quiet and reserved Joe grew mean and loud and slammed doors. I could feel the tension building and walked on eggshells, waiting until the attack came again. Afterwards, you blamed me for bringing out your anger. You said it was my fault that you had to abuse me like you did!

Like a switch, your mood changed again one evening during a drive when I was kicked out of the truck in a rough city area of Honolulu. You told me when you circled back to get me, that I could have been murdered if you hadn’t turned around. I was grateful! Then there was the threat of being left on a scenic mountain top overnight because again, I disagreed with you and you lost your temper. You tried to drive up the mountain in the dark but after some distance, a gate blocked the road. I noticed a pack of boars cross the highway as you screamed your threats at me and thought I was living some kind of nightmare that I couldn’t escape from.

I was tossed around in a tent in front of your family during a beach camp-out just a few hours after meeting some of them. I wanted to crawl under a rock from humiliation as I cried uncontrollably. Your sweet nieces came to me with concern and a plate of food that I had missed out on during your rage-fest. I was a minority there and was new to your culture and didn’t seem to fit in. You realized your wrong-doing only when your friend Anita stood up for me. You took me aside the next morning and sobbed on the beach for me to please forgive you. As always, I did.

There were times when you spoke in your native tongue in front of me even though your family was politely trying to use English to accommodate me. You would later say that you did it because you were mad at me for something that I said or did that I had no idea of! I was told on other times that if I didn’t like it, to learn the language. I tried. Feeling uncomfortable once in a car with Yapese conversation and laughter that I couldn’t join in on, I texted my kids so that I wouldn’t feel so out of place just sitting there but you got angry and said that was rude of me because it was if I were sharing secrets behind your back. Ironic!

If you were mean from drinking it would be one thing but you were mean just because you are mean. It’s in your bloodline, you said. You proudly claim to have ancestors who were warriors who would conquer land and take men’s wives. Well, you certainly did! You liked conquering the married yes, you are a warrior Joe, but your ancestors would be ashamed because your war was always with your own women.

Outside of work and Church, I was isolated. I wasn’t allowed to have friends because you always found fault with them to keep me from seeing them or would embarrass them so that they wouldn’t want to come around. Remember how you forbid me from seeing my friend Joanie and let her know? She sat in our living room paralyzed as you taunted her and made her cry. You also disliked my friend Paula and in true Joe fashion, made her cry too. ( Thankfully, I have friends that you can never run off.)

Fortunately I was allowed to go and visit my family during the Holidays even though you loathed them and distanced yourself from them. My mom didn’t like you but tried real hard to get along for my sake and invited you every Christmas to join us at her Spokane house but you preferred to be alone and made your family think that I abandoned you. It made me look like I was the bad person ditching you during the holidays. They didn’t know that you could have joined us but just didn’t want to. They didn’t know a lot of things.

You didn’t have much to do with your family either and would pretend to avoid them at my expense. On several occasions I asked why we don’t ever get together. I was lonely at times and we lived near them. You said it’s because of me. I didn’t understand this- I thought I was a good hostess. I tried to be kind and accommodating. I served your island foods. I listened to your language without comprehension of it. I let everyone chew betel-nut in my home and bring in their spit containers and spit while sitting on our pretty furniture.

When we did get together, we all visited as if we lived in your culture so under the circumstances, I thought I did very well at trying to fit in. I guess you didn’t see it that way because it would be months before we would get together again.. Instead, you used me as a scapegoat to avoid them by saying that I didn’t make them feel welcome enough or you would tell me that your family wonders why I sometimes behave the way I do.
Behave how? WHIPPED? I tried to hide it. I always tried to hide it. If I failed in front of them, it’s only because they didn’t know what you had done to me behind closed doors to cause me to behave that way. …Now that I am safely away from you and my head is clear, I realize that you were constantly using me to avoid them. You lied and blamed me for your disdain of them but back then I was too programed by your control and abuse to ever see it. It must suck now to have no excuse to avoid them anymore.

Back then, your family didn’t know that a simple scolding from you in anger (like the one in the truck in front of your visiting niece) could throw me over the edge after a multitude of hidden verbal attacks or angry looks. I’m ashamed now that I lost control and whaled in sobs in front of her. After you left the truck and went in the store, she asked if I was okay. I told her that it happens all of the time with you. It was a brief moment of desperation and I was hoping she would understand how violent you could be to me. She was kind and sympathetic. You told me later that it didn’t matter how you treat me because your family will always stand by you no matter what. They didn’t see the “no matter what’s” that I always had to live through with you. I wish your family knew the Joe that I know. Now I realize after finding online documents about spousal abuse in Yap, why your family couldn’t react to your cruelty. It’s apparently a normal thing to be beat up on your island. It says so in these two links here..

I wish your family could know that besides being ugly towards me, that you were also that way regarding your family. They didn’t know that you’d call some of them “idiots” (your go-to name for most everyone) and put down their messy homes, lack of motivation, excessive weight gain or elaborate birthday parties for their small children to “impress others” etc. etc… You said that your two nieces ran off their husbands and deserved to be alone. You said one in ruined her marriage from being on facebook too much and the other lost her man from being “too lazy”. You said she still is lazy but ironically, that “lazy” niece is the one you stay in contact with the most and the only one you call on whenever there is an emergency. (You Are A User) You put down your one sister for wearing a turban and said that she wont go to Heaven because of her wrong religion. (You also Judge People) After your brother’s funeral, you said that you couldn’t understand why one overweight brother who has no regard for his health gets to live while another who had so much to live for, had to die. God, if they only knew ALL of the hateful things that you’ve told me! I could write so much more here and they would know it’s true because how else would I know these personal things about each and every one of them except from your own words? I bring these hurtful things up to demonstrate that you weren’t loyal to anyone. Anyone!! You could be as cruel to your own bloodline behind their back as you frequently were to my face.

Your family didn’t know that I needed the ambulance one morning because of your cruelty. You ruthlessly attacked my mother and told me that she didn’t love me but was only “humoring me with affection”. My mother and I are very close which always bothered you. Perhaps because your own mother was gone, you felt jealous of the relationship I had with mine. Your comment hurt so much in the hateful way that you continued to attack her that I was hyperventilating and thought I might be having a nervous breakdown. As the paramedics took my vitals, you told them that I was “crazy and probably just faking it”. I pause here to ask what kind of man says that about a loved one in a dire situation? ( A man who’s heart is incapable of feeling love.) The Paramedics said my blood pressure (which is always very low) was “through the roof”. At the hospital, when talking to a staff Psychiatrist (at my request) to see if I was “crazy” like you always said that I was, you sat there next to me with that sweet and caring, innocent smile on your face. Well, the Dr. determined that I wasn’t crazy after all but advised counseling for severe depression. I went to the counselor that he recommended and all you could do is complain every time I went that my “counselor is too incompetent to counsel”.

Your family also didn’t know that through the years, I was choked, punched, kicked and spit on, pushed, thrown down, shoved, bit and slapped. Being spit on from you hurt me the worst. It was so degrading that I would have rather of been hit. After you spit on me, my face, hair and blouse would be splattered with red betel juice. Until you calmed down, I would have no choice but to sit there and take your attacks with the juice of your chew running down my face.
I lost several outfits because the red juice stained and ruined my clothes.

I pretended to faint once in the kitchen after you kicked me in my lower back and knocked me to the floor. I had hoped you would leave me alone but instead, you continued to kick me and called me a “phony” to force me to get back up. I laid there in disbelief of what you were doing to me. Early one morning you drug me by my hair in front of my visiting girls for making noise while you tried to sleep. (I was trying to get quarters out of a change jar for the laundromat). They had never seen your physical anger before that and begged for you to stop dragging me. When I screamed for them to dial 911 (there were so many 911 calls) you stopped and rushed in to them to apologize but my youngest girl flinched as you grabbed her for a hug. ..She still despises you.

On another day, you pulled me to the back of our house to be thrown in the crawl space. Your face swells up and your eyes get big and glassy and bug out when you get mad. It was like that on that day. Only my hysterical screams for the neighbor’s help could shake you free from your angry trance. Afterwards, you took my purse with my car keys and phone and drove off leaving me waiting for 3 hours in the yard until you returned to unlock the house.

There was also that night during a fight in bed when I ran from our house through our orchard in the dark to be scratched in the face and arms by branches in order to get away from you. I coward in the neighbor’s cornfield half dressed to hide from you while you walked about the road, calling my name. How frightening that still is, even writing about it. So many bad memories from then and each time, I lived them, I hoped and believed it might be the last.

*I was brutally slapped in the side of the head because of a comment I made about an Apartheid movie that you considered racist.

*I received a sprained collarbone because I was sick in bed and you threw me out. (my youngest daughter witnessed this.) We went to the hospital but I made up an excuse to cover for you for the injury. Apparently, the Doctor never believed it because he took the stand to speak against you during your assault trial.

*I suffered a painful elbow injury from your body slam. The bruise extended from my elbow to my wrist and I had to sit out during our weekend Volleyball games with your Yapese friends and family in Hawaii. ..Now I realize that they had to have known who caused it.

*Random items were forcibly thrown at me during arguments which broke near my face and shoulder.

*You grabbed a warm cup of tea from my hand during an argument and flung it back at me. You didn’t care that it could have been hot.

*On another occasion, you threw a large lit candle and splattered wax over two newly painted walls. It’s important to note here that you didn’t like for me to light candles because they “suck the oxygen right out of the air” you said. You also don’t like door wreaths because they represent a death in your culture. You also had something against wind chimes and threw my expensive pipe chimes across the yard when I tried to hang them. (I can hear the soothing sounds of my wind chimes playing from my patio right now though.)

*You cornered me in the bathroom one night after a fight and stood there smiling in an evil and sinister way. I begged you to leave me alone and cried until I was convulsing. You didn’t care and stood there grinning. I began throwing-up out of fear of you which made you angrier. In your angered state, you threatened to drown me in the toilet if I didn’t stop. Have you ever tried to stop your stomach from throwing up? It’s nearly impossible. When I couldn’t stop puking, you finally left the room.

*I wasn’t able to get my daughters 4th grade school pictures taken because you said I couldn’t write a check. We were almost to the front of the photo line and you were on the phone yelling at me to “get home now!” so of course, we did.

*You threatened to abandon my seven year old daughter on a Whidbey Island beach to teach her a lesson for not hearing your horn honk. I got out and said I was staying with her so of course you didn’t go.

*You screamed at me during a camping trip because my oldest daughter called long distance to visit on the phone. You wanted me to go with you fishing instead and took off in a fury with your truck wheels throwing dirt in the quiet camp site. You hated it whenever my kids called and pulled my attention away from you.

*You kicked down the door and came after me after I removed your box of porn from the house and put it outside in the yard.

* You handed me a butcher knife while pointing it at your chest and told me to use it on you if I wanted out. This happened more than once, actually.

*You would pull me by the hair, twisting it in your hands so that I would have to sit and listen to you while you made your point.

*You thought it was funny to terrify me in a busy intersection by turning too slow in oncoming traffic that was approaching my side of the truck. If the car would have hit us, I would have been the one who got injured. You said it was a joke.

*You loaned my Sunbird convertible to your nephew and his wife and finally after months at your request, they returned it trashed. There were betel-nut stains on the seats and floor and mold and mildew covering the steering wheel, gear shift and dash. (I still have all of the before and after photos) I was devastated but you were more angry with me for being so upset with them. It was always more convenient for you to get angry at me. Update: After seeing the condition of some of my appliances and furniture that you held hostage for months with dents, scratches and claw hammer marks in the wood, I can see why the condition of my trashed car didn’t upset you. (You are a Pig.)

*Because I loved you, I sold my cute camper to pay for your truck’s repossession charges while you let my new Sebring convertible sit in the garage for years. You said it needed a valve job and hoped to one day finish it. I believed you and waited and waited…and it never got fixed. I towed it behind me when I left you and found out later that there was nothing wrong with the valves after all. The valves are supposed to be open on that type of engine so it only needed a $50.00 part to get it to run again! I guess you are only good at working on jet engines… I hope!

My youngest daughter recalls the time that you had a screaming fit because I colored my hair blond without asking you first. My son and his wife remember the time that you yelled at me in the car that I couldn’t see a Jethro Tull concert in Seattle that I was excited about. ( I finally got to see three headline concerts this summer) My father remembers the time when you had me sobbing over the phone for twenty minutes and held up my family during a night out for dinner. Of course my mother remembers so many ugly events. Let me ask you- when did I ever do anything like this around your family? Never.

When I think of some of the things that I did for you, it hurts. I hate myself now for hiding in store isles as you talked to the Navy co-workers who we occasionally ran in to. I accommodated you by hiding because you said that I was a “disappointment and an embarrassment” to you. You knew I was doing that out of love for you and you took advantage of me and accepted it. Generally, if I was caught unguarded by standing next to you, you wouldn’t introduce me anyway and afterwards I would have to ask who that person was. (Wow, I took so much shit off of you) You could be so rude towards me and had no manners. You walked ahead of me. You opened a door for me after you walked through it first. You interrupted me in mid sentence by saying that you’re not interested in what I was saying or didn’t want to hear about my work day. I’ve also watched you get angry with store clerks because you misunderstood their meaning while they were casually joking with you. I felt bad for them because I totally got their humor and saw that they were just being friendly. I’ve also listened to you go off on business people that upset you over the phone. A true Christian man as you confess that you are, wouldn’t behave that way to others.

You were on deployment again on the day that Andrea Yates was on the news for drowning her 5 children. We were talking on the phone and I could hear the news story playing on your television. You paused to listen and then said “I would do her.” I thought you were kidding but you weren’t. Even if you had been joking, it would still be a sick thing to say after what she had done to her babies.

I clearly remember that morning because it was the same morning that you told me about your dream. You said you dreamt that your dead father was introduced to me but he thought you could do better and asked you why you were with me. (I guess I needed to look like Andrea Yates) You said that dream made you feel ashamed. You hurt me further by saying that you also met a women pilot who wanted to “hook up” with you. (This was way back when you still had some looks and didn’t have your man-boobs like you do now.) I was so scared that you would cheat on me with her and cried myself to sleep. I think now that you just wanted me to feel fortunate to be with you but I already did. I knew you looked up to your father so was afraid that you would also want to dump me because of that dream …and again for the woman pilot. I suffered by starving myself for 28 days but that kind of suffering didn’t hurt like your words did. I lost 30 pounds until I got physically sick and didn’t have the stamina to go hungry anymore. When you returned home, your response to my drastic weight loss was that I used to have nice legs before they turned flabby. I could never win with you.

The more I tried to love you, the more you seemed to hate me. Was it because you felt secure that I would never leave you? ..or was it because you really wanted me to leave and I wouldn’t? You always yelled at me to get out. During a fight you would yell “Leave! I keep telling you that I want you to leave but you wont go!” (until you were sorry later and would say it wasn’t true.) Then if we were out and you became angry, you would screamed “Get the f— out of my truck before I throw your a– out!” in traffic intersections, public parking lots and even once in front of our house after Church! I keep seeing how your eyes bug out and your face gets tight and red while you scream. It’s Scary! Onlookers would give you dirty looks for treating me that way while all I could do is shrink down in my seat from humiliation and cry. You acted insane and I was always shocked at the way that you didn’t seem rattled by your own behavior and how abnormal it was- especially in public while in the presence of others.

Not long before I left you, we were at The Home Depot and two men who saw you screaming at me in the parking lot followed you in to the store while a woman stayed outside and consoled me at your truck. She told me that I should leave you and said that I didn’t deserve what you were doing to me. Words that were said by so many people over and over again throughout the years. I knew I had to leave but didn’t know how to make myself do it. When you came back, you told me that you stood up to the two men who approached you by giving them a “What are you going to do about it?” glare and they backed down and walked away. They probably thought you were crazy! It didn’t seem to faze you that your behavior was abnormal. You never seemed ashamed of yourself. Instead you gloated that nobody better mess with you (like your co-workers who you bragged about hurting when you threw them in the garbage can.) but I know now that it isn’t you that makes you tough, but just your size. You use it to your benefit. I saw what a coward you really are when you didn’t stand up to my new boyfriend (now husband) when he wouldn’t back down from you. Instead, you backed down from him! Time and time again you dismissed him without wanting to stand your ground but he always stood his. If he tried talking to you on the phone, you would hang up or throw the phone at me and tell me what to say back to him. I saw for the first time through him, that you aren’t really all that tough after all. (I guess you can only pick on girls.)

When we met, I did freelance magazine illustrations. One day when you wanted me to go to Cornet Bay to fish with you but I was focused in drawing a cover for Highlights children’s magazine and declined to go. You were half asleep from the couch and woke in a bad mood and asked me once more to go with you. After I said “no” again, you grabbed my artwork and said “You call this artwork? I call this grade school art!” Then you crumpled my sketch and threw it back at me, I put down my pencil and lost my passion for drawing for years then. Since leaving you, I placed an online ad in Washington, Idaho and Montana and have been contacted by an overwhelming amount of people in need of my creativity. I have been commissioned to create a tattoo design, a pricey wedding destination map, a business logo and a album cover for a Seattle musician. I am currently illustrating a book series for a published writer. I AM AN ARTIST AGAIN, JOE. You Didn’t Destroy Me!!! I am making very good money now for something I love, thanks to the support of family who has always believed in me and because of the encouragement of a loving man who thinks I’m incredibly talented and knows me enough to know that I need to draw in order to truly be myself again. Looking at last years W2 – I believe that I am actually making more money per year than you are now, how about that? 🙂

When you killed my passion for art, you essentially killed the essence of me. I think you wanted that. You also set out to kill something else I loved and that was my relationship with God. You put it down by saying that I was only using God to get closer to you! Ha. what an ego. Like another dose of your poison, I gave that love up too. Your words always had such a negative impact on me as if you were my God. Maybe I really was brainwashed by you like everyone said. In a way, you did me a huge favor though because now I rejoice to be free of the constraints of judgmental “Christians” like you who don’t act Christian at all.
Do unto others, right?

You not only tried to kill my passions but were successful in breaking me and in breaking my spirit. You also broke everything that I cherished the most like that rare German creamer set, the pretty teacup given to me on my daughter’s birth, other sentimental keepsakes, a vintage oven that you destroyed with your drill and my antique upright piano that was ruined from you splitting the wood. You put a machete mark in my cute garden tool-box like the scar that you put through your hand. You intended to stab me one night with your machete and pulled it with such force from the paper sheath that it sliced through the paper and cut right in to your left palm severing your tendon instead. You can’t bend your middle finger now. It’s as if Karma gave you the finger. I love it. You broke your fist from punching a cement wall and said you wanted it to be my face. You got your wish eventually though didn’t you, because you did punch my face and you broke it. (and ironically it happened after hitting another wall first.) I know you did it to disfigure me because you always said that you thought I had an ego. – Later you admitted that it was your own ego that made you treat me that way. (You are a Hypocrite)

You say looks mean nothing, that intelligence and good character are the real attributes, so why did what he said about my looks matter? .. and what about your questionable and shameful character, you Navy outcast? You always said I was “ugly” and asked what I had to contribute to you. It shouldn’t have mattered to you if I was ugly if looks mean nothing, right? I was called “stupid and dense with a thick skull” or “pathetic” and told I was “fat” every single time that you became angry with me. “Look at you. What kind of man would want your fat body?” you would say while looking me up and down with disgust on your face. I defended myself from those words once by saying that I weighed the same as your mother in hopes that you would stop insulting me but your defiant eyes grew angrier as you lunged at me, throwing me down on the bed and choking me with both hands. I struggled against you and fought for air but I couldn’t get free and as you put more pressure on my neck, hissed these words with spit flying from your lips and said- “Look me in the eyes bitch because now you’re going to die”.
I believed you. I feared that I was dying and thought of my parents and three kids and how I would never get to see any of them again. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t breathe! Finally with eyes pleading and begging in to yours for you to Please Joe, please stop!, you let me up.. I must have been turning white for you to let go before passing out. As I sat there dismayed and rubbing my neck, I realized something I had never known before~ the last thoughts that race through a mind when you think your life is over. I still think death was too close. Afterwards, my eyes were red and my marked neck was sore. My throat was raw for days.

I started drinking to numb the hurt and eventually came the attempts at suicide to escape it. I drank down cold medicine, I took pills, I tried hanging myself, I slashed at my wrist and also cut open a screen window on the 22nd floor of our high rise apartment to jump away from you. I nearly drove off a cliff until you screamed at me to stop and I tried to open a car door at 70 mph because I couldn’t take the pain of your cruel words anymore. I know you remember because you intervened all of those times. Mostly out of fear I think because my death might cause another investigation. Only when I would be pushed over the edge, would you stop your awful attacks and apologize. That’s all I wanted- for you to see what you were doing to me. For you to love me enough. For you to save me.

I always suffered alone with what you did to me. My family didn’t know what was happening to me for the first few years. They wouldn’t have made allowances for it like yours always did. When my nose got broken, I couldn’t hide the abuse from anyone anymore. How loyal I was to you to stand still (at your wish) while you tried to set the break yourself. After unsuccessfully trying to move the broken cartilage back in place, I told that I need to be taken to the hospital. You wouldn’t stop trying though until I began pleading with you to please take me. This wasn’t a bruise that you could just massage out with coconut oil like all of those other times. You sobbed like a baby because you knew you were done for. Your Navy career certainly was! What a pity too~ so close to retirement and you were on your way to making Chief. You have never really forgiven me for that night, have you? You were so proud to be a Navy man with your certificates and ribbons. Being part of the military meant everything to you- especially the respect but you were dishonorably discharged and lost everything except your disability payment. I should have discharged you too but you went to church and promised to change so once again, I stayed and stood by you. ..only to be cheated on with a fellow church member and friend.

And just so you know, Joe, my family isn’t “white trash” like you always called them. (What a hateful, racist remark from a man who always likes to throw down the race card.) I have never known a more racist person in my life than you! My parents are good and decent people who are still in love after 57 years of marriage and they gave me a happy childhood. I didn’t know what abuse was until I was abused by you. I couldn’t understand why the hell any women would want to stay in an abusive relationships until I was in one. You told me that you saw your dad beat your mom on two occasions so I guess you thought it was okay to keep hitting me until the law said otherwise.

After rushing around that night to clean up the evidence of blood on the bed and towels, you FINALLY took me to the Island county hospital. They called the Sherriff and you were arrested in the emergency room. They could tell that you beat the crap out of me. My face was a mess with bruises and dried blood. My eyes were swollen black and blue and my nose was crooked and leaning to the left. They also had my medical file from all the other visits there when I made excuses for my injuries. After your arrest, you were ordered by the state of Washington to stay away from me. After your trial, you were found guilty and served time under house arrest until your conviction then you spent more months in the county jail. You would think that you would feel like the snake that you are but no, because you are always in denial of what you did to me even though you have an Assault 2 conviction that will follow you for the rest of your life. This prevents you from buying a fire arm or renting from some very nice properties. (instead of the upgraded 1960’s dump that you currently live in now.) Certain jobs wont hire you. If you hit anyone again, you will serve prison time and may get deported. (They wanted to deport you that time but you were safely protected from being in the military)

All in all, you really didn’t learn from any of this. After your incarceration, probation and Anger Management classes, eventually the old Joe returned. Like a tiger that can’t change it’s stripes, the cocky brute who said that nobody could tell him what to do emerged again but broken. Essentially, you have been castrated from fear of confinement again to a prison cell. I guess I tamed the bad boy in you after all.

It must be really hard for you to restrain your fist now when all you can do in anger is show them in a threatening manner. I was told by a police officer that holding up your fist like that is illegal but you’d still do it anyway with threats of physical harm and then lie to the police that you didn’t. Material possessions are never exempt of your temper and violent destruction. Your next victim will see. Don’t you ever get tired of fixing walls and replacing doors? …or of always saying that you are sorry?

During your investigation, Mark, a military detective drove over 300 miles from Whidbey Island to Spokane to question my parents about what kind of man they think you are. During his visit, he warned them to try to talk some sense in to me to leave you. A Navy man had just killed his abused wife. He said that he knew men like you and that “you are dangerous”. I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t see how bad you were because I was so blind. I didn’t see it because I was so abused.

Nobody understood why I stayed with you. I stayed because I loved you. It makes me sick now to think that love was what I it was. I don’t see now how I could have correlated that word with a man like you. I know I stayed because I hoped you would love me and change. I also stayed for all of those sweet days after an outbreak when you would be so loving to me with coconut oil massages (for the bruises) kind words, kisses and affection. That was the Joe that I loved and wanted and missed and stayed for. The Joe I hoped would stay for me. I found out later through CADA that this is the “honeymoon phase” and most victims stay with their abusers for it. I also found out that I was a statistic and too psychologically messed up to leave. Nobody would ever want me, you always told me. I made my bed and had to lie in it, I told myself. Funny that only a year later I finally get to experience that honeymoon phase everyday and don’t have to be abused for it.

You said I wasn’t “wife worthy”. When I told the military detective that this was the reason that we hadn’t married, he looked at me in horror and said “Let me ask you something, Cindy~ when did you stop loving yourself?” I felt ashamed. I asked myself that many times afterwards. You like to use the excuse now that you can’t marry because the Bible says that you can’t (even though you conveniently select the scriptures you chose to live by and ignore) but for 14 years, you told me the reason was because I wasn’t “wife worthy” and until I changed, you would never marry me. I couldn’t keep up with all of the things that I needed to change for you.. You yelled at me for stepping out of the tub onto a bathroom rug with wet feet. You scolded me for wrapping the vacuum cleaner cord wrong. You hated that I put eggshells back in the carton after I broke them and jumped on me for overcooking your boiled potatoes. Well, I don’t do that now. You chastised me in Winco for not bagging groceries fast enough and then got upset another time when the rice bag tore on the conveyor belt. That doesn’t happen anymore either. You said I never learn from my mistakes but I remembered those mistakes. The potatoes I boil now don’t split in the pot like they used to. I can cook them to perfection now. Remember when I told you once that “Someday a man will come along and love me for me and won’t care about how I cook his potatoes?”
Well, I have that man now. He could care less about his stinkin’ potatoes because unlike you, I am much more important to him than food. (in your culture food equals love. I wonder if that food is keeping you warm at night when you sleep alone in your cold, dark bed?) Unlike you, I have more than a plateful of food to love me. I have a man who loves me all of the time and doesn’t need to abuse me to show it. I live in a honeymoon phase every single day now! My man thinks I am “wife worthy” and proved it.

The beginning of the end for us was while visiting our Navy friend on Whidbey Island. ~The same Navy friend who was there for me after your explosive attacks. The same Navy friend that you put down time and time again after our visits. The same Navy friend you said is from a “low cast part of your island and had to survive on a diet of fruit bats” and is “a disgrace to the Yapese people and should stay away from Yap”. As we were getting ready to go home, this Navy friend’s neighbor came out and when introduced to me, asked if I had a twin sister. I had lost a lot of weight and was feeling really good about myself. I was flattered that he found me attractive and why wouldn’t I be? I wasn’t used to getting compliments on how I looked by you! On the way home, you blamed me for his flirting and screamed at me for reacting happily over his comment. In a psychotic fit, you took out your rage on me that you had towards him! I was trying to drive through heavy Seattle traffic while sobbing while you screamed and nearly got us killed. It wasn’t my fault he said that! I did nothing but stand next to my car when he complimented me. You said that I should have told him off for saying it. No, you should have if you didn’t like it! I thought he did nothing wrong! A real man would have either been upset with the man who said it or feel proud that someone thought that highly of his woman. Not you! You were too coward to confront him so you took it out on your usual punching bag.


The last straw was when your anger was directed at my oldest daughter. You stood and screamed hateful, nasty obscenities directly at her for calling me on the phone and interrupting your television movie, I was sickened. Who does that? I asked you what your family would think if they could hear you ranting at my daughter like that but you couldn’t answer. It was especially sad because she was calling me because she missed me. She lived far away and had just read a book about a girl who lost a mother to cancer who was like her best friend and only wanted to call to say that she loved me. Love, Joe- Do you even know what that is? You wouldn’t apologize to her. It was the final straw with me so we were done. Because of what you did to her, I was finally able to force myself to move out and get away from you. I loved you and didn’t want to but did so from shame because what kind of woman stays with a man who does that to her child? It had always been me that you attacked but I drew the line when it happened to my girl.

Your attack happened on a Saturday. On Sunday you would be sitting in church as the good Christian man that you think you are, wouldn’t you? ..and you would be asking God for forgiveness (again) like you always asked of me, wouldn’t you? You only asked my daughter’s forgiveness after I left, when you were trying to win me back. After it was too late.

By the way, don’t contact her again. I know you gave her your new phone number to stay in touch but she deleted it. Please leave her alone. You hated her then. Don’t try to be her friend now. Contact your own daughter who you disowned and wont have anything to do with or your son who wont have anything to do with you!

After I left, you wanted me back. We spoke on the phone as friends. After awhile, you angrily accused me of seeing other men. You wanted me to think about “us” like you were and talked about having another chance. I didn’t see that you were really sorry or trust that you could change so I wouldn’t agree to come back to you. You never thought you needed to change before so why should I believe you would now? You made new promises to make up for the old ones that you couldn’t ever keep. You said that if we were together, you would take me to Yap this summer. (I waited years for that promise to be kept.) You began to treat me kindly on the phone at all hours again like you did in the beginning but I was single again and busy focusing my time on some incredibly attractive men that found me incredibly attractive in return. Imagine that! I was getting hit on daily and had never dated so much in my life! It was wonderful to be wined and dined and treated respectfully again! In my newfound freedom in a safe and secure environment, I found a kind and loving hunk who had something we didn’t. A connection! This man appreciates me. He wakes up every morning with kisses and the words “I love you” spoken from his sweet lips. He supports, encourages and compliments me in every way, every single day! He makes me laugh and we carry on like two high school students who have discovered love for the first time. He accepts me for me! On the bad days after my therapy, he sits with me and lets me cry and rant about your cruelty and gives a listening ear and a warm shoulder even though he’s probably sick and tired of hearing about what you did to me. (He would love to get his hands on you.) I NEVER have to flinch or cry or beg for forgiveness with him. He sees love reflecting back when he looks in my eyes. People tell me that I am so happy now that I glow. Imagine for a moment Joe, what it must be like to be a man that can do that to a woman? Anyone can make someone cry. It takes someone truly special to make a heart feel such overwhelming love for them.

(by the way, he even told me that I can give him all of the care-package teddy bears that I want to! I am a lucky, lucky woman because my new guy is a true keeper.)

When I told you on Valentine’s day that I choose to stay with my new boyfriend (now my husband) you screamed at me over the phone “I will not be a second wheel to any man, Cindy!!” It hurt real bad for you to lose me, didn’t it? Who else would be there for you to put down and take your crap or to tolerate your bipolar-like tantrums?

This must be why you ended up in the Hospital. This must be why I found a butcher knife and a broken CD in the sink with knife marks poked and hacked all over it when I went back to our house to get some of my furniture. This must be why you ended up in the hospital overnight from chest pains. It’s because you had no one to take your vile aggressions out on. Nobody to yell at or throw things at. Nothing except a plastic CD.

I’m glad I chose him. I was so depressed and unhappy with you. I had no motivation to do anything besides clean our house or get online and that was your gripe. I would escape in to blogs and admire women who had happy homes, loving husbands and girlfriends. I lived vicariously through them. This made you angry. You hated being compared. If I was an abuser like you, I would hate to be compared also. You never saw the signs because it was all about you. You said you couldn’t trust me and that I always seemed to be looking for something else. I was and I told you so with the hopes that you would want me enough to change. During those times that you hurt me I wondered if there was a kind man who could love me. I was looking for what I didn’t have with you.

I believe now that God was making preparations for me then. He brought me just what I was searching for and I will never ever have to look again. More importantly, I will never want to look again.

You told me when you were trying to when me back that it’s not good to have someone like my then fiancĂ© who is always pleased with me. You said that I need someone like you who can keep me feeling “accountable”. Someone who will help me to want to “better” myself. How? By beating me? By tearing me down with angry looks and cruel words? Your rational is lunacy! Thank Heaven’s my man isn’t anything like you!! He is sweet and loving and would NEVER call me names or tell me that I am failing at anything! He is helping me to overcome your years of wrath so that I can move forward but he knows that I will be unable to heal without the professional help that I am now receiving all because of YOU and how you took pleasure in tormenting and bullying me for all of those years. He listens to me and builds me up and in a world of men, this man is one in a billion that God put in my path to really, really love me. This man also makes me cry but the tears are there because I don’t know how to fully accept the continuance of love and attention that he gives me and I have had some difficulty in trying to cope with that. I am overcoming this affliction as he stands by me with hope for change like I always had when I stood by you.

I used to wonder if I wasn’t submissive enough for you. Now I just know that you are very sick and if I didn’t feel such hatred towards you, then I could have pity on you. You say that you want another white girl but I know she will have to endure your brutal boot camp in order to be with you. You wont ever change. You can’t. You haven’t yet. You are still YOU with all the charm you had 14 years ago except you are balding terribly now and you have various health problems that need daily medications. You have an enlarged heart and have to wear a noisy alien-looking mask for your sleep apnea. You also have to carry eye drops on you for your yellowed eyes that always tear up. Your left eyelid also droops.

You don’t have the island boy body or the youthful looks, a clean record and the military security that you once had when you found and fooled me. You were left with nothing of value except a monthly disability payment for your bad back and other internal problems but hey, you still have free health benefits at the Veteran’s Hospital and that’s a good thing because you are always there. A lot!!

How does it feel to be criticized about your looks, Joe? ..It hurts, doesn’t it? Try hearing hurtful remarks like that for years on end and see what it does to your self esteem. Your email to my husband with the words “second hand man” proved that you are still the name-calling Joe that I knew and stagnated with. It also shows that you are angry with him that you lost me. By your own words, does that make your next boot camp candidate a second-hand woman? We both know that if you snag one, she will be treated as such.

I may not have been the best girlfriend, but I didn’t deserve what you dished out. No woman does. Regardless of what you say, it was not “my fault” that you “had to abuse me” like you did. Perhaps that behavior is okay on your island or in your head but it isn’t okay in the USA and as the military detective told my family~ “This brute is going to find out that we don’t let outsiders beat up on our women”. The Navy certainly showed you!

I do not feel bad thinking about you having to pay me monetary damages for pain and suffering, emotional trauma and lost wages due to what I have had to live with for years and for jobs which sent me home because of my red eyes and emotional state after physical conflicts with you. I have many coworkers who would gladly speak up for me on the stand.

You will probably tell people who see this that I am making all of this up. I wish I were! How sweet life would have been if none of this had happened and I hadn’t needed weekly counseling! Why would I take time to write this if I were making this up? Why would there be the newspaper articles and trial transcripts if I were making this up? If I were making this up, I wouldn’t be able to conjure up all of the events that really happened to me. More importantly, I wouldn’t want to.

Recently in 2014, you stole a large amount of my furniture, personal manuscripts and expensive college books with hundreds of dollars worth of Adobe software. I have in writing that you said you put everything I wanted in storage but everything of mine wasn’t there and if it was, most of it was damaged. The storage unit wasn’t even as big as you said it was. You lied about paying your bills but left me with a large 450.00 power bill that you ran up in my name after I moved out. I had to pay it off for you.
You are a leech.

You lie about your past and give a different last name to the women you meet in order to hide your identity. How sad it is that you have to do that, huh? How do I know? You laughed about it when you told me on the phone that you use the names Joe Fal and Joe Fall to hide your past.

You lie on online dating sites when you agree that you’ve had no lawful convictions against you. You also hid your image with the screen name Jomaph1. Two popular dating sites caught on though and deleted your profile. You lied to your family whenever you used me as an excuse to avoid them. I wonder what excuse you have to use to avoid them now?

You say that God has forgiven you and ask my forgiveness but you will NEVER have it. I just despise you too much for everything that you did to me and hope that one day your soul pays for your cruelty. You say that you pray for me every day but don’t pray for me. Pray for yourself and your sins and pray that your God someday forgives you. I do believe with all of my heart that you will have to account for every tear that you caused me and my family… and for the tears of your own children who you wont acknowledge.

Now if you think that I am slandering you by placing this online to save another woman from having to go through what I did, you’re wrong. Your past is your own doing. The Whidbey News Times links about your arrest online and the court transcripts from the Island County Courthouse prove every thing here and tell what you want me to continue to hold secret. It’s out there for any unsuspecting victim to see but they won’t really see. You and I both know ALL of the cruel things that you did to me in and out of the bedroom.

If you are a woman who is thinking about getting involved with this Monster, please get away with your dignity and self respect while you still can or pray that God protects you and your children. Four women who found the truth about this creep already ran. I informed two woman (with daughters) about his past and was called a “low life” by this predator for doing so. Apparently, he thinks being an abuser and treating kids like crap isn’t being a low life.

If you are a preyed upon and believe this conniving man’s sweet side and you get hooked like I did, I wish you the very best of luck. If you stay with this tyrant, you’ll get to visit my world.. and may eventually need help like I once did. You have my condolences.

Joe, I know that I’m on the top of your ex list now like all the others who were once involved with you and wised up and left but I Don’t Care. I don’t need your approval or care about your twisted opinion of me anymore. I know that I am an intelligent, attractive, witty and multi-talented woman who is loved intensely by a better looking and more successful man and you were bitter over losing me to him.

I still live each day with the childlike passion that you loved and hoped I would never lose. You said you couldn’t find those qualities in anyone else and I know you wont. We both know that most women my age wont put up with any man’s crap…especially yours! You know that you wont find anyone else like me who will stand by you and accept your brutality year after year after year. You’ll be lucky to find one who takes it from you after a week! You had a good thing once. You had a woman who loved and served you and stood by you in times when you didn’t deserve it. My husband says that I am “every man’s dream”. I Love That! I’m happy that he can recognize and appreciate it everyday. It only makes me want to please him more and more and believe me, I do. I relish in the fact that you couldn’t see what you had until it was gone.