Woman recalls experience in abusive marriage Hopes others can learn from her story BY KATHY CHANG Staff Writer WOODBRIDGE - A warm touch by a township police officer in 1989 changed Ronnie "Murphy" Welch's life forever. "I can still see his eyes," said Murphy in a purple Domestic Violence Awareness T-shirt as she reminisced about the turning point in her life. "If not for that Woodbridge police officer [whom she still hasn't been able to find], I'd be up the river or pushing up daises." Murphy, 70, who now lives in Carteret, recalled her domestic violence relationship with her husband, John Welch, which lasted for 42 years. "Every time I get the chance, I tell my story," she said. Murphy, who said she now prefers using her maiden name, joined her 44 fellow Domestic Violence Response Team members and the public for the first 5K Walk to End Domestic Violence held at the Alvin P. Williams Memorial Park in Sewaren on Oct. 6. "I have been waiting for this day all my life," said Murphy, who has been a member of the team since 2001. "It's so important to break the cycle. It doesn't have to be and shouldn't have to be for these women, and also men." Murphy, who said she was more emotionally and mentally abused than physically abused, said it took her 42 years to find the courage to leave her husband, with whom she had five children. "It was 1955 and I was six months pregnant with twins," she said. "He wanted to go out and I asked him to stay home. He ended up punching the wall and going out." Murphy lost her twins; however, she stayed with Welch and followed him overseas when he was drafted into the military. Murphy said being with Welch was like having her "own private terrorist." "It was like your eyes became his eyes … someone of hate, ugly, and no beauty," she said. "He was degrading me all the time to the point where I felt I had no identity, no heritage, and my self-esteem was gone. I was lost." Murphy, who settled with her husband first in Rahway and then in Colonia, said it was the little things that made her husband angry, such as the cap to the ketchup bottle was crooked, or there was a piece of lint on the floor. "The house was clean, but he would see that [small flaw]," she said. Murphy had four children in four years and a fifth child later, which she said she was blessed to have. "I had a job to do," she said. "People ask why I just didn't leave, but we had been married for 10 years at the time, and in my day, everyone was not so educated like people are today. I had a job to do to raise my children and see them through high school and college." Murphy, who said her husband never really abused her in front of the children, said the worst was when her husband spit in her face. "We had been fighting and we did not talk for eight days," she said. "I had gone into the kitchen [which people said you should not do because it's a dangerous place] and he grabbed and pulled me back by my hair and spit in my face." Murphy said the thought still makes her sick. "I can still feel the warmth of the spit," said Murphy as she reached to put her hand on her left side of her face. "He said I was dirty and ugly and nobody would want me. He threw me onto the living room floor." Murphy remembers lying on the couch crying, feeling "cold and alone," which she said she always felt every time she was abused. "I had every materialistic thing … a car and a new home, but I just didn't have that pillow I could rest my head on at home," she said. "I remember looking up at the blinds that were vertically slanted and thought is there anybody out there who understands what is going on?" Murphy fell asleep, and when she woke up, she had a cover on her. "I felt warm … I went to sleep cold and alone, but I woke up warm," she said. "He was there and he kissed me and said 'I don't know why I do this to you.' " Murphy said the moment was called the "honeymoon phase" on the domestic-violence cycle. "It's just one thing after another," she said. "When I fully well knew in my heart that three days later, it was going to go back to what it was." Murphy said the next fight was the turning point for her. "Again we hadn't spoken for about eight days, and I was sitting in the kitchen watching TV," she said. "He came into the kitchen and I jumped. He asked me why I jumped. I told him he scared me. He came over and was standing above me and said how could I say that, and [that] he would never hurt me. I told him that he was crazy." Murphy said he started calling her names while hitting her in the face, causing bruising to one side of her face. "I grabbed dish after dish that I had just cleaned and started hurling them at him as he was running up the stairs," she said. "I said, 'I'm going to kill you.' I even told the judge at a court hearing that I hoped he would stick his neck out so I could cut him with the plate." Murphy said that after almost 35 years of abuse at the time, all the emotions came to her that were bottled up inside all those years. "My daughter had called and I told her that I was going to kill her father," she said. The police were called, and Murphy's road to freedom started. "The officer who put his hand on mine told me I should get a restraining order against my husband because if I don't within a year, he would be back at the house carrying a dead body and he didn't know who it would be," she said. It took Murphy a couple of years after the officer's visit to leave her husband of 42 years. "I had dropped the restraining order," she said. "But I finally left in 1997." Now Murphy is a member of the Domestic Violence Response Team and various Irish clubs. "I got my heritage back," she said. "I like to bake cookies and dance. It's good to laugh … it's free medicine." Murphy said people could see a perfect couple, but no one knows what really goes on behind closed doors until someone speaks of it. "I left my husband 13 times before the final time," she said. "The last time was similar to my first experience with him," she said. "I was standing at my daughter's home, and our 4-year-old granddaughter was with us. He was acting up and I said, 'What's the matter with you?' He ended up punching the wall when our granddaughter was standing there. That's when I didn't want anything to do with him, and that's the last time I ever saw him." John Welch died in 1999. Murphy went to see her husband in the hospital for the first time at the request of her children. "I wish I could miss him, but to miss all that [the abuse] would be ridiculous," she said. "But I did feel sorry for the kids. Were there good times? … I don't even know anymore. If there was one good door, then there were three that were bad. We were allowed to be happy when he was happy, but we were not allowed to be angry when he was angry." Murphy said now her family is a mending family. "My mom would say when there was something ugly, then there was always something beautiful, and that is my five children and nine grandchildren," she said