Pastor Raul Ries Testimony - Cont.

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I can also remember my father taking me, at the age of 5 because I was the eldest son, to the nightclubs and the bars. My father was a brawler; he liked fighting.  He had a good job with the Bank of Mexico, but the drinking led him to violence.  I remember sitting outside at the newsstand where he left me, waiting for him to come out.  He would be so drunk.  He had a little scooter, and every night, we would get home by the grace of God. I remember this whole experience, him hitting me and beating me when I was growing up.  I was so rebellious.  By the time I was 8 or 9 years old, my goal was to kill my dad.  That was my life.

In 1957, my mother was invited to come to LA, leave my father, and go to live with my grandparents and my mom’s sister.  One night my father came home totally drunk, and passed out.  My mother woke us up early and we went to the international airport in Mexico City.  I remember going to the airport, getting on a plane, and leaving Mexico at the age of 10.  I remember how happy I was because we were rid of my dad.

In 1958, my father began writing to my mother about how unhappy he was and how much he missed us.  He promised my mother that he had changed.  So, in 1959, my mother allowed him to come to America and live with us.  I remember hating my mother because she brought him back into our lives.  I didn’t want him to live with us.  I didn’t have any feelings for him, I was so bitter towards him.  And again, he began to drink and abuse my mom.

In 1960 or ‘61, we moved to Montebello, but soon after, my father decided to buy a house in Baldwin Park.  I started, as a freshman, at Baldwin Park High School in 1962.  My mom had a very good job working for the Union Bank in Los Angeles. She thought that by moving and having a new house, everything would be better; but every time dinner came, there would be arguing, fighting and screaming.  My father would get so drunk, that he would get violent and hit everybody.  I remember at the age of 15 having a lot of confrontations with him, and I began to get violent.  I began to take my frustrations and anger out on people.  At parties or on the streets, I would start beating up people.  It became a consuming fire in my heart.  By grace, I didn’t kill anyone on the streets.   There were times when we left people lying there and we thought they were dead.  This went on for the four years I was in high school.