Word: husbanded
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...likely to suffer their plight in dutiful silence. Says Psychologist Mary Donahue of Rockville, Md.: "Often this is the quintessential good girl, bright, with some education, overprotected and without a particular career path." Generally such women give themselves over to their spouse's needs, subsuming their identities to their husband's -- and often losing their self-esteem in the process. Invariably they blame themselves for their mate's abusive behavior. Once, when her physician-husband smacked her across the face, Amy, 30, of Brooklyn, N.Y., remembers saying, "Honey, let me give you a doughnut. Maybe you're hungry." Says...
After the beating begins, affluent wives have a difficult time admitting the horror of their situation. "Wife abuse in the middle class is very hidden," says a 47-year-old woman who five years ago fled her violence-prone husband, the owner of an upstate New York automobile dealership. "I know of quite a few women who won't get out because they're afraid it will hurt their image or because they don't have the financial means." Some women manage to justify the beatings as a trade-off for status and security...
Denial extends to affluent communities as well. Police are often easily intimidated by a husband's clout in the community. Doctors turn away well-off women in the mistaken belief that they are simply overwrought or exaggerating. When a Los Angeles woman who endured weekly beatings throughout a 31-year marriage finally confided in her physician, she says, "he just looked at me strangely and changed the subject. Professionals don't want to admit that they, as a group, are not perfect...
Poor Francis Phelan. Once he was something like "the Natural," an infielder for the Washington Senators, good glove man, top-of-the-lineup smile, tough as Ty Cobb sliding into second with his spikes flaring at the shortstop's groin. When baseball stardom eluded Francis, he tried being a husband to Annie -- best kisser in Albany -- and a father to Billy and Peg. That didn't work out either, so he hit the road and fell into the arms of Helen Archer, a singer who became a sod. There was some trouble with the law too: that scab...
...centuries whispered to them. "I knew this was a special moment," Mrs. Reagan thought as she entered the State Dining Room with her husband and the Gorbachevs. "The people there were happy, uplifted," she later recalled. The dinner was the affirmation of the day's achievement and the gracious application of wine and warmth to see if the journey of peace could be pushed on down the road...