Eventually Welfare (Mr. Bond) decided I was to become a Ward of the State until I was sixteen, I was sent back to Karanga Home in Mt. Stuart until they decided where I would be best placed. The authorities decided the Salvation Army wouldn't be able to handle me, so I was eventually sent to Magdalene Girls Home in Sandy Bay. The onsite kiosk did very well out of us girls, we had a small allowance and we had to purchase our personal items from this kiosk. There was a picture theatre on the site, and if you were good then maybe just maybe you could go, there were also day outings, however I was never allowed to go on these, as I was a risk.

I won't say I was a good girl, because I became very rebellious as I couldn't understand why I was there. I was constantly being bashed up by other inmates, my fingers jammed in doors, one nun in particular took a disliking to me and I was forever in trouble with her, she would pull me up the corridor by my hair, ear or whatever she could get hold of first.

After a couple of years I started to run away, I would scale the fences, undo the bars on the windows, get out through the laundry, whatever way I could, I was always taken back by the police, boy, then I would cop it. The nuns chopped off my hair with garden sheers, I would be made to scrub corridors with a toothbrush, I would be placed in a shoe cupboard for hours at a time.

Once I was locked in a phone box, but I thought that was great, I just called everyone to help me, I would call for pizza's, ambulance, fire-brigade, police, the hospitals anyone I could think of. They soon realised this was not a good place to lock me up in. Eventually I was given Largactuyl this was a drug to sedate me and to quieten me down, I was given 50mg at first, then increased it to 100mg, they would stand over me and watch me take it to make sure that I had taken it.

On one of my escapades, I actually got to Burnie met this guy and I had sex with him, I don't know why, maybe I was looking for someone to love me. Well the moral of this story is story I got pregnant. I was taken back to Mt, St. Canice (Magdalene Home renamed). The nuns wanted to have me aborted, they worked me like a slave 12 hours a day.

I was eventually transferred to "Elim" the Unmarried Mothers Home run by the Salvation Army, to await the birth of my child. I soon realised that this place was no better than the girls Home. This place also was very regimental, up at 5am, beds made by 6am, showers over by 7.30am, breakfast at 8am. I refused to eat breakfast (sloppy porridge) and toast was the offerings, extra toast would be thrown at me with very little butter. Then it would be prayer time.

The days then existed of work chores. This was mainly scrubbing corridors, cleaning empty rooms, scrubbing the delivery rooms, toilets and showers, on many occasions this was after a delivery during the night. Then there was the laundry, folding up towels and nappies.

At no time during my time in "Elim" nor on my arrival there was I informed of my rights, nor was I ever told what to expect when I went into labour, or what would happen to me after. Eventually when I went into labour, I told the staff I was in pain, I was quickly told to "shut up" and to stop being a "sook" and that I got my self pregnant and I would get a "painkiller" when they were ready to give it to me. My son was eventually born on 20th March 1969, it was a long and painful labour, I was ripped and I had stitches.

I looked after my baby fed him, bathed him, nursed him, for the next two months. During this time I was continually harassed to sign the consent papers