In the Beginning

I was born in 1959.  Both parents were from the mid-west, mom was raised in Minneapolis, dad was raised in Michigan.  Born into the baby boom generation, my family name Berkey came from Switzerland. My first name came from a great Uncle, Dr. Charles Peter Berkey (March 25, 1867 – April 22, 1955).  My grandfather on my mothers side came from the northernmost village in Norway, grandmother came from Sweeden.  California was on the forward edge of social progression, the change of generations happened a bit sooner here.  The education system especially was in the process of updating after me so my early education was considered “old school".

 

Dad was awarded  “most likely to succeed” in college. He had gone to a Billy Graham crusade in college and was one of the hundreds of people who responded to the altar call.  Mom had a really good outlook as well with her very good education.  They married as a result of an unplanned pregnancy.  My older brother arrived soon after they were married, then came my sister a short time later. After a couple of years they moved to California where I was born next.  

 

 

My early life memories were mixed. My first memory was outside of my home enjoying the sunshine and flowers.  I was with my sister watching the bees on the flowers. I was fascinated by those bees, my mom gave my older sister instructions “don’t touch the bees”.  Later, mom is gone and my sister turns to me and says “touch that” pointing to a bee.  Being as young as I was (6 months old) I did as my older sister instructed. Yup, I got stung!  My sister has always laughed about this, has never apologized and my mom became very aware of her manipulating tactics to create conflict. This was my very first life lesson, a lesson that would be drilled into me over and over and over again. I  laughed about it, repressing my feeling of betrayal, it seemed funny on the surface.  However, much later I realized how this experience established a pattern of misbehavior that became rooted within the toxic relationship I had with my sister along with the toxic family system.  Lisa had to be the dominate and controlling authoritarian in our relationship, that I be submissive.  My sister has never admitted to doing anything wrong for anything in our relationship, she has never said “I’m sorry”for anything. Nope, it’s not within her vocabulary, against all the rules of her game.  Her game was an extension of my dads game, she won approval from my dad by being compliant to his wishes, his motivations, his manipulation.  She participated and became a partner in the same twisted game plan for her own gain.

Early Years

 

I visualized myself as a cowboy and John Wayne was my movie hero. We moved a couple times and eventually settled into a very modern Eichler House in Concord. My younger brother arrived 4 years after me.  My family conveyed the image of living the “American dream”.  My extended family marveled at the attractive look of my parents and us kids living in an ideal house of success and luxury.  This portrayal of the perfect family would soon show cracks in the foundation and would crumble.  It was all an illusion to mask the true reality of a very broken family system.  There was a division within this family and it soon became clear that there were two sides.  I protected my mom during the fights. As a result I lost all respect for my dad so my dad gave up trying to groom me into his image at a very young age. 

 

 

Dad became a very successful real estate broker who gained wealth from the housing boom in California during the 60’s & 70’s.  He was really good at playing the game and became very well respected despite being violent and abusive to us family members in private.  He wasn’t a drinker or smoker, he didn't do drugs of any kind.   Unfortunately, my dads claim of being a "born-again" Christian didn't help him change his destructive, careless behavior, his dark side. There were some deeply rooted obsessive compulsive behaviors hidden deep inside, He had a very self-centered egocentric mindset. He was an authoritarian, a man obsessed with gaining power and control over other people no matter how much damage that was required.   His extremely toxic mental patterns stemming from his past still remained.  He had been a spoiled child who always got things done the way he wanted.  My dad was a malignant narcissist which became a personality disorder.  The forgiveness he claimed to have now (according to his faith) gave him a way to increase his abuse of power, continuing to control and damage other people while feeling righteous and justified through his faith in this creepy version of “Jesus”.

 I didn’t start talking until I was around 5 years old. Being an introvert, I observed things around me while remaining silent and shy.  It took many, many years before I fully realized that there was something very sinister going on in the family.  Meanwhile, it all became "normal". My mom always warned me about my sister, she could not be trusted.  However, she was always very favorable to my dad, he always treated her special.  She was being groomed and very much tied into the same narcissistic personality disorder as him.  However, with Lisa it much more cleverly disguised.  She learned to act very sweet and lovable on the outside.  However, there was always a deep hidden darkness on the inside along with a self-serving, egotistical game plan that became more and more evident later on . She has always felt a need to dominate and control relationships, always uses gaslighting and manipulation tactics even if that means lying, cheating & stealing.  My older brother always had a similar mindset within the family system.  Although, his narcissism is a bit different.  He needed to be on center stage.  This caused lots of conflicting dynamics. Us boys were more favored by mom in this family.  I tended to be the quiet one, never wanted attention, always stuck in the middle of the conflicts.  I grew less and less tolerant of the game. Meanwhile, this was the late 60’s and the outside world became more and more conflicted as well.

 

At the age of 8 in 1967, the outside world became entangled in more and more conflict. Everything caught on fire with the Vietnam War and the resulting rebellion of the hippy movement. I was very aware of what was going on and felt very small and very fragile in all this crazy stuff.  Nobody was there to help me sort it all out.  I went from being a child of the American dream to a witness of the American nightmare. In the days ahead  I felt the pain in realizing my dad wasn’t there to protect me. Instead I realized that my dad along with my sister were both conspiring to find weakness in order to damage me. It was a betrayal that went very deep.  However, I was taught to suppress those feelings, to set up the walls of protection and soldier onwards with the ‘hand-me-down’ broken tools that I’d been given. In reality I was a frightened child who was lost and trying to find his way home in the dark.

 

 

Growing Up in the 60's & 70's

Growing up in the 60’s was very special in many ways.  I remember some good times of going to a Lutheran church and feeling a sense of connection. There was this sense of destiny, a spirit of inclusion, happy times. I remember playing in the walnut orchards, building forts, flying kites. Then there was the other reality at home.  The domestic violence that happened when my dad came home and expressed his anger and frustration.  It was usually triggered by something very small and insignificant that my mom was blamed for.  Maybe dinner wasn’t ready on time, maybe something else.  I remember my dad’s chronic rage and anger as he smashed items in the house and beat up my mom.  I  always stood alongside my mom and tried to defend her from that monster, I had absolutely no loyalty to my dad.   Yet, we always had that all-important appearance of such  a functional, happy family!

 

 

The chronic violent outbursts from my dad got worse and worse as time went along and then it suddenly all ended when my dad didn’t come home. I was so very glad, so very thankful the monster was not returning.   I was told he was on a business trip.  The reality was that the marriage was over and my mom had filed for divorce.  At the age of 7  I began asking questions about the reality around me.  Unfortunately most of the answers I found were withheld or manipulated by friends & family members.  Being an introvert, I developed the ability to find truth deep within myself, I acquired the skill to discern, although this would need to be refined over time.  In Jr. High School I was frequently bullied for being empathetic, but I did receive an award for being the “nicest boy” in school.   It eventually became clear to me that I was very different from everyone and couldn’t trust most sources of information around me, so I learned to rely more and more on my internal voice. Eventually this would prove to be my strength and my shield from the chaos around me. I didn’t need to seek advice or approval from others. Instead I developed a deep sense of self-sufficiency, self-evaluation and self-validation on my own.

I became a big fan of the TV show “Then Came Bronson”.  

It was my fantasy to be like that man who left his job and decided to hit the road on his motorcycle traveling the world. Each episode showed how Bronson made a significant difference in making the world a better place, 

It was a very dysfunctional childhood at best. It became more and more dysfunctional later in my teens when I went to live with my dad and his new wife.  That arrangement ended in yet another violent attack when my dad beat up his 2nd wife.  I became more and more affected by my dads mental illness.   I probably would have been considered an ADD kid.  I had very little interest in school, not because I was stupid, but because I lacked the motivation or interest in the violent world around me.  In elementary school I played the trumpet in the school band.  Also worked as a crosswalk safety guard. I also took an interest in photography.  I remember taking lots of pictures with a Kodak Instamatic, Also, creating a box camera for a class project.   Being bullied in school, there was no one to defend me.  However, I did have motivation to work very hard.  I had several paper routes and as a successful paper boy I earned rewards for my good performance.  It wasn’t easy as I didn’t have someone to help me on those bad weather days.  I learned to get up early and work hard every day.  I also worked for my dad cleaning & painting houses.   I also became involved in scouting in the late 60’s until I joined Drum Corps in 1970.

 It was at this time in the early 70’s that I joined a community marching & maneuvering group called the Blue Devils.  I first joined the Jr. Drum & Bell Corp and played the glockenspiel.  We marched in parades all over the Bay Area, as well as performing and competing at field shows.    My siblings were all members of different groups in the Blue Devils. My sister was in the Sr, Drum & Bell and played glockenspiel, brother was in the Drum & Bugle and played middle horn.  In 1973 there was a change as they had turned the Sr, Drum & Bell into the Drum & Bugle “B” Corp.  I joined at the very start playing the soprano bugle.  In 1974 I would join the Blue Devils “A” group along with my siblings. This became our family connection, although we never connected as family members.  There were very distinct boundaries between us as we related to completely different friends and a different set of social groups. I was the most removed from this very awkward reality.  Although, I learned that to get along I had to go along with the group and that required a certain form of conformity.  Marching in sync with the collective energy taught me many things.  As the group grew very fast in 1974, by 1975 we became a major force in the drum corps world.  We had no idea that for the next 40 years our group would be in the top five drum corps and win a record-breaking 21 world championship titles. 

 

 

In 1976 I bought a motorcycle. The motorcycle represented my quest for freedom and independence.  In my younger years my dad had given me a book about surviving in the outdoors, this inspired me to ride the motorcycle up to Yosemite National Park at Christmas break.  I brought a camera so I could  hike & take pictures of the winter landscapes. It turned into a disaster when I discovered I forgot to bring the matches.  Then in the middle of the night  a bear took my food and destroyed all my film, I nearly froze to death.  However, I did recover and returned home safely.  As time went on, my dad decided to punish me for taking that trip to Yosemite.  He took away the motorcycle which prevented me from getting to my job at a restaurant.   This is when I ran away from home and decided to live with my girl friend. I had been smoking marijuana to cope with the stress.  This brought more trouble. 

 

 

My friend's dad went through my belongings and found a small amount of pot and then called my dad.  My dad came and got me, in the car he told me that either I live with him or he will drive me to the police station.  I told him that he was a terrible dad and I would not live with him.  So dad drove me to the police station, he was determined to lock me up.  He shows the officer behind the counter the pot and tells him to arrest me.  The officer smiles and says there wasn’t enough pot to arrest me. He advised my dad to work things out with me.  My dad becomes very upset and insists that I be arrested.  So, I’m taken away and locked up.  Finger printed, mug shot taken, hauled off to juvenile hall overnight.  I met with the counselor who advised me that this was not a place for me, I needed to get out of there… fast.   Next day my mom comes and takes me home.  This was the breaking point for me.  

Summer of ‘76 I spent with my cousins in Sandpoint, Idaho.   It was one of the greatest highlights of my life!  I began to explore and we took a hiking trip to Canada.  Life was so good. Sandpoint, Idaho was a very different place back then.  It was a very small, sleepy town.  Connie's Cafe was the only happening place in town.  My cousin was a waitress and helped get me a job as a dishwasher.  I got to know the family who owned the small cafe.  Also, I enjoyed the waitresses as we went out to the beach to party after work.  It was such a magical time!  I really found myself in a whole new and exciting life!  My cousin allowed me to take his motorcycle, an old Harley Davidson,  on explorations all around the area.  We also did some hiking together.  There was one trip up to Canada when we met up with their friends.  That man had been a draft-dodger of the Vietnam war.  We hiked to a glacier and I remember the amazing scenery.  It really opened my mind and helped develop a love for the outdoors.  It was such an amazing place that I never wanted to return to my old life.  I did, however, eventually return to Concord.  That's when I took the photography class and discovered that love for multi-image.  Combining my love of photography with love for the outdoors, this now gave me a place of expression and connection.  So yeah, this really helped me in that process of soul searching.

The Journey Begins: Breaking Away

It was the year 1976 in the month of September. At the age of 17 I dropped out of High School and made the decision to leave my hometown of Concord, Ca.  I headed north by hopping freight trains. This was the start of the journey, leaving the nest, it was my appointed time to declare free agency and independence.  I had grown up in a very toxic family system and I needed to break away, to break out of the mold.  The plan was to travel to Seattle where I could land a job with the fisheries and be sent up to Alaska for the winter.  That would give me the finances and freedom to travel to other places.  Unfortunately, as I discovered, the fishermen were on strike so there were no jobs except to unload the few boats that crossed picket lines. Fisheries were hiring people off the street to do this so that's what I did.  It was messy, difficult work but I got paid well.  This allowed me to rent a place to live, an apartment along the waterfront.  Nothing fancy, but it was furnished and had a view of Puget Sound.  It was the first time I had my own private space.  In my spare time I walked around the downtown streets and the Seattle Center where there was the amazing Space Needle.  This is where I was constantly being approached by people who were opportunistic predatory types. Yeah, they were proselytizing, attempting to convert me into some weird religious cult (Moonies, JW's, Mormons) or other odd lifestyles (male prostitution). People who lived their lives in a fantasy world many of whom were on drugs.

These were creepy people who sold out... hook, line & sinker.  For them there was no way back.  Being as young as I was with a dysfunctional childhood past, these people recognized me as a potential play toy for their manipulating, grooming pleasures.  Indeed, they thought I would fall for their clever presentation, their misleading marketing schemes. Looking back, it was truly remarkable that I wasn't taken in by these fiendish groups.  The bait that they offered me was some form of makeshift peace and artificial security.  My response... fight or flight. At this time I caught an image from deep inside that visualized mass destruction.   I chose the flight option here, I felt the need to break free from all these seductive trappings and to swiftly move along.