Lies of a Real Housewife (26 page)

“Ms. Parks speaking,” she answered on the first ring. The confi-

dence in her tone convinced me that everything would be okay.

“Hey Phaedra…” I responded in a mild mannered voice. “Phaedra,

this is Angela. I know you’ve been busy, but I’ve been trying to contact you. You know the feds locked me up, right…? I just got out, Phae! I can’t leave my kids again! They don’t have anyone besides me Phaedra, and
you know

that! I just don’t know what to do!”

I spoke as calmly as I could. I promise you, eyes hadn’t seen and

ears hadn’t heard the words I really wanted to tell her. However, my back was against the wall. I needed her more now than ever. She, on the
other hand, acted surprised. It was as if she knew nothing at all about my federal charges.

She even seemed shocked, and offended that I had even called her.

When she got over the shock, Phaedra went right into her routine. Pleading her case to the court, she let me know straight up that she was afraid. At least, that’s what she told me. Phaedra claimed that her whole life and everything she had worked so hard to build was at stake. I informed her that I had already lost everything, and I had grown tired of hearing about her life. She wasn’t even considering my present life situation.

My main concern was, of course, my children. Phaedra told me that

she received my manuscript and had passed it along to a friend of hers who was an editor. I didn’t know whether to believe this or not. She also told me to inform the court that she would be representing me, and claimed that it would be a year or two before my trial. In the meantime, she wanted to work

on getting my manuscript out there.

I could tell by our conversation, or should I say that little thing

called discernment, that Phaedra really wasn’t feeling me anymore. In my heart, I truly believed that
she had decided to cut ties with her criminal side, and live a normal life. That was fine with me, but we had unfinished business. I needed to restore my life, for the sake of my children, and there was no way

that I could afford a lawyer to help me beat
this case.

Returning to prison meant my children would go to Department of Family and Children Services (DFACS). It was something I refused to let my children experience. If she no longer wanted my friendship, then that was fine, but I needed, and wanted
my freedom. My children needed and wanted my freedom. Just like Phaedra had said, it took a year or two before for my trial would begin, so I tried my best to live a normal life, and stay out of the

limelight.

The five thousand dollars didn’t last forever. Before long, my chil-

dren were looking to me for shelter, food, and love. I was unable to provide any of the material things, but love came on demand. My mind was going, and I was contemplating putting an end to my existence. Not only did I contemplat
e suicide, but also taking the lives of my children right along with mine. This was a thought that I had never shared with anybody until now. It

was so hard to love when you are stuck inside of a dark, cold place.

I had grown tired of watching my children suffer, and thoughts of all

the tricks I had learned from Phaedra kept breezing through my mind. I had to be strong, so I pushed all thoughts of suicide completely out of my head. I knew I only had one life to live, and I felt that I was sent here for a
reason. Lastly, my life wasn’t mine to take.

In order to survive, I did what I had to do. I prayed daily that I

wouldn’t get caught. I know a lot of people don’t agree with what was just recorded, but I was not asking you for agreement. I wanted you to understand. If there was no comprehension then try empathizing. In other words, put yourself in my shoes for one second.

Chapter Ten

“No weapon that is fashioned against you shall succeed,

and you shall confute every tongue that rises against you in judgment.

This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord and their vindication from me, declares the Lord.” Isaiah 54:17 (NIV)

I was pumping gas at a service station near my rundown apartment. The kids were in the back seat going crazy. They were fighting, throwing things, and yelling. I guess the normal things that any two, five, eight, and ten year olds did. But on this particular day, it was obviously one of my days when I had put much thought into the reality of my mother no longer being on this earth. I had basically lost it, and right there at the gas pump. I was

hysterically crying, I was completely inconsolable.

A kind and understanding gentleman walked up to me. He asked

if there is anything he could do to help. At this point, I was behind my car, lying on the ground almost under the tire. I was angrily cursing at the Lord, cursing my life, and cursing my children. Again
, I was in a very cold, dark, and low place.

I spilled my guts out to this total complete stranger. Stumbling

through the explanation of how I was on state and federal parole, I told him I was being pressured to find employment, and no one would hire me
. I was struggling to provide for my children. My mother had died, and my grandmother died shortly after her. I went on and on spilling my guts while crying my eyes out to this complete stranger. It was as if he was Jesus. Looking back

now, I realize that
he was another angel God had sent my way.

The very next morning the same complete stranger had given me a

job. I began working for the Georgia Department of Transportation (GDOT). I was working as a laborer on the side of highway 285 for two weeks before I brushed shoulders with the manager of human resources, Princess Ferguson. A receptionist position had become available and the company policy was that they offered job placement in house before they advertise with the general public. So without hesitation I applied. Mrs. Ferguson was totally blown away by my ability to dialogue in genuine professional manner. She saw a light shining on the inside of me. It was a light which I thought had been

burned out by my past circumstances.

“Thank you for calling the Department of Transportation district

seven. Angela Stanton speaking, how may I help you?”

That was my script. I loved my job, and I admired my new boss

Princess. I was very fond of her because when she looked at me she saw no faults in me. She ga
ve me a fair shot and didn’t criticize me negatively when I did something wrong. Rather, she would show me the proper way to do it. Princess demanded nothing more than my absolute best. My absolute best was exactly what I provided. This earned me two more promotions in the

thirteen months that I worked there.

I had finally found stability. My parole officers and especially my

federal pretrial release officer, Lorna Murphy, supported me. She watched me like a hawk to ensure my success. I could tell really, that she truly cared.
This was more than just a job for her. I felt she wanted what was best for me and my children. It was a long hard road, but with her encouragement, and her refusal to let me fall, I made it! This went all the way up to my federal trial. Living everyday with uncertainty, not knowing whether or not I would

be around to raise my children was a battle in itse
lf.

When my federal trial was set to begin, Phaedra Parks promptly

notified the court that she wouldn’t be representing me due to a conflict of interest. I had no idea what that meant. I just knew she wasn’t coming to court. I didn’t have time to try and figure out what was going on with Phaedra. I was at war, fighting for my life.

Federal Judge Linda Evans assigned Susan Hashimi to my case. Ms. Hashimi worked as fast, and as diligently as she could within the time frame she was given. Ms. Hashimi believe
d in me and believed that I deserved a second chance. I didn’t have any doubt in my mind that she wasn’t fighting for me.

My trial began two weeks after I was notified by mail. I made end-

less trips back and forth to Ms. Hashimi’s office. Going over my c
ase from front to back, beginning to end, Ms. Hashimi had given herself a chance to know me as a person, not as a criminal. She even took up donations from her co-workers to help me with the support of my children. Just about everyone in her office donated something, even if it was just one dollar. This helped me tremendously, and my children and I were very grateful. God had placed

people in my life who truly wanted to see me succeed.

The morning of my trial, I prayed just as I did every morning. I

aske
d God to have his way. The only way I knew. I had been through enough to realize that man’s plans and God’s plans were totally different. I was a

nervous wreck. Just full of emotions, my mind was racing back and forth.

There was no guarantee that I wouldn’t be serving any more time. I was facing five years for conspiracy, and the state time I served had absolutely nothing to do with my federal case. Even though this was all the same crime, Ms. Hashimi had to prove to Federal Judge, Linda Evans that I had

learned my lesson, and therefore did not deserve to go back to prison.

I sat on the right side of Judge Evans with my attorney. Everett Tri-

podis sat on the left side of Judge Evans with his attorney. Ms. Hashimi and I sat silently, and listened as Ever
ett’s Lawyer pleaded his case for him. We listened as his attorney told Judge Evans that I was the mastermind behind the whole operation, and that he worked for me under my direction.