Cruel Harvest
Praise for
Cruel Harvest
“A story that seizes the reader's attention . . . the reader can't look away.”
â
Publishers Weekly
“Fran Grubb's childhood odyssey is a shatteringly dark tale of despair. But that's not the end of her captivating life story. Each page of
Cruel
Harvest
reveals a remarkable journey of rescue and redemption. Your heart will be moved as you witness Jesus' power to deliver, forgive, reconcile, rebuild, and love.”
âDenalyn and Max Lucado
“A deeply harrowing story, told with compassion and simplicity, by an extraordinarily brave writer.”
âAnjelica Huston
“Cruel Harvest
is an incredible story of survival and forgiveness. Fran's ability to survive brokenness as a child and even into adulthood and then to overcome those experiences through faith and forgiveness is a true testament to the power of God's love for each of us. Everyone can be inspired by her story.”
âSheila Walsh, author of
God Loves Broken
People
and Women of Faith speaker
“Against all odds, Fran survived her trip through the âvalley of the shadow of death.' I loved reading this story of deliverance. Thank you for the reminder that God can turn our mourning into dancing!”
âGracia Burnham, former hostage and author of
In the Presence of My Enemies
“It is hard endorsing
Cruel Harvest
with just a few words. I want everyone to know how powerful her story is and how many lives it can help change, and is currently changing. Ever since reading Fran Grubb's story I have used it to help numerous clients that are victims of childhood violence. Every woman has commented on her faith and how her book has given them hope! We are putting the book in our library for all the ladies to read.”
âVicki Mason, Primary Crisis Interventionist, Women's Crisis Services of LeFlore County, Poteau, Oklahoma
“This was a wonderful book. We could feel the faith of the child throughout every page. We highly recommend
Cruel Harvest
.”
âDeWayne and Rebecca Hicks, founders of Courage to Change Ministries, Greenville, Arkansas
“
Cruel Harvest
will touch your heart clear through to your soul! I guarantee that you won't be disappointed and you won't be able to put it down.”
âPastor Ray Witherington, Midnight Cry Ministries / Restoration Revival Center Church, Townville, South Carolina
Cruel
Harvest
A MEMOIR
FRAN ELIZABETH GRUBB
© 2012 by Frances Elizabeth Grubb, aka Fran Grubb
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâelectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or otherâexcept for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.
Thomas Nelson, Inc., titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fundraising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].
Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are taken from THE HOLY BIBLE: NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION
®
. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.⢠Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
Scriptures marked
KJV
are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Grubb, Fran E.
  Cruel harvest : a memoir / Fran Grubb.
      p. cm.
  ISBN 978-1-59555-505-2
1. Grubb, Fran E. 2. Grubb, Fran E.âFamily. 3. Sexually abused childrenâUnited StatesâBiography. 4. Kidnapping victimsâUnited StatesâBiography. 5. Migrant laborâUnited StatesâBiography. 6. Abusive menâUnited StatesâBiography. 7. FathersâUnited StatesâBiography. 8. Escaped prisonersâUnited StatesâBiography. 9. Dysfunctional familiesâUnited StatesâCase studies. I. Title.
  CT275.G787A3 2012
  973.92092âdc23
  [B]
2012004553
Printed in the United States of America
12 13 14 15 16 QG 6 5 4 3 2 1
To the Creator and giver of all good gifts: I love you and I know that I owe this book to you. I give you all the glory, honor, and praise for every sentence printed in this story.
This book is yours, not mine.
To Wayne, whose love, support, and encouragement has kept me going year after year, through the churches, tent revivals, nursing homes, and prisons, and who keeps me laughing.
For all the times I may have forgotten to say thank you for carrying equipment, singing harmony, reading the Bible, navigating before the GPS, your wonderful sense of humor even after three meetings a day, and for never losing hope. Thank you!
Thank you for throwing out all the rules about love, listening to your heart and proving there are no rules or limits to unconditional love.
To Wayne, who has the heart of a child and the courage of a lion. Can I ever show you how much you mean to me? I hope this dedication is a start.
Cruel Harvest
was written for all the adults and children who find themselves asking, “Why?” I pray you find the answer in these pages. God knows your name and has written your name on his hand!
(Isaiah 49:16; John 10:3)
Contents
Chapter 10:
Not What It Appears to Be
Chapter 11:
First Day of School
Chapter 13:
A Safe Harbor in the Storm
Chapter 17:
In the Arms of Angels
His fist shattered
the glass panel of the back door the instant I turned the lock to keep him out.
His fiery, red face, twisted with unbridled rage, glared at me from outside the glass top half of the kitchen door. The only thing separating us was the jagged windowpane.
I stood still for just a second, frozen in shock as I looked into his evil, angry eyes. Shards of glass exploded inward toward me, some cutting into my forearm and head, the rest falling to the kitchen floor. He reached his calloused hand through the broken window to unlock the door. My shock was quickly replaced by fear, and I ran through the house to get to the front door as though the devil himself were chasing me. He was!
It was 1963 in Benton Harbor, Michigan. I was fourteen, and this little house was one of the best I'd lived in during my childhood. It had three rooms set in a line like train cars: the kitchen in the back, a bedroom in the middle, and a small living room at the front. I tore through that dark house as fast as I could, slamming into the front door. I had locked it only minutes earlier to keep him out. Now he was in the house with me and I could hear his footsteps and feel the rasp of his enraged breathing. I had only seconds to slide the bolt back, throw the door open, and leap from the house as if it were burning down behind me.
The front door opened to an old wooden porch with a sagging tin roof. Snow blanketed the front yard, rising up to cover the bottom two steps leading off the rotted decking. I jumped, my legs sinking a foot and a half into the drift. The cold air cut through the ragged clothes I wore. I remembered my coat was inside, but so was he. There was no going back in.
Millie and her young daughter, Mary Anne, were standing by our old car in the snow-covered front yard. A tattered cardboard box of blackened pots and pans lay beside it. I had dropped them before running back into the empty house, hoping the sound of clattering pans, lids, and pots would be an alarm in the still night and somebody would come to save me.
I heard him crashing through the house behind me just as I sailed off the porch. Little Mary Anne came chasing after me into the yard. The moon shone so brightly off of the snow that I could see her big, dark eyes pleading with me to take her along. She screamed my name as I dashed past her. She did have her jacket on, but at five years old, the snow was up to her waist in some areas and I worried she would get lost.
“Millie, grab your daughter!” I yelled.
I never slowed down as I turned away from the dirt road that ran in front of the house and plowed through the deep drifts to reach the covering of the woods at the side of the house. Clumps of snow fell from the pine branches in the yard; ice rolled down the back of my dress and burned my cheeks like fire. I knew that if I stopped, the pain would be much worse when he got his hands on me. I had no doubt that he would kill me just as he had killed my baby sister eight years earlier.