The Malinda Bray Victory-Wings of a Dove DVS, Inc
This is her story.
Life was good for the first 15 of the 20 years Malinda Bray was married to her husband, Alvin Turner. As a practicing Christian, he sang in the choir and the couple attended Bible study. They were baptized together and renewed their marriage vows on their fifth anniversary.
They operated a trucking company and went on cruises. But when the business began to boom in the late '90s, success went to Turner's head, Bray said, and his behavior started to change. He began staying out late, found another woman, became angry and began a pattern of domestic abuse.
Vividly remembering the 15 good years of marriage, Bray said she vacillated about staying in the relationship or leaving even as verbal and physical abuse increased. She tried to appease her husband, wearing different wigs, modeling lingerie for him, cooking his favorite meals.
But his abuse escalated.
One day he pushed her. After that he kicked her and eventually threw a punch. The violence became more frequent, accompanied by threats to her animals. He clobbered her Labrador retriever with a shoe and bashed her horse, Star, with a heavy wooden beam. Later he threatened Bray with a gun, which accidentally went off, just missing her.
She went out of state for a week to hide, once. Her father and her pastor had talks with him. Her mother and her husband were close friends. They prayed together daily. It was a complicated situation.
Turner was a big guy. She used to feel protected by him. Now she lived in fear of him. After every incident, he blamed his behavior on her, on circumstances beyond his control, on life in general. He begged forgiveness. Looking back, his actions were a blueprint from the textbook on domestic violence.
When he wanted to move in with another woman, Bray agreed with the condition that she would stay in the house and continue to run the business. But ultimately she filed for divorce. The judge granted it on Jan. 4, 2001. But even this didn't end her nightmare.
Before long, he wanted Bray back. He showered her with gifts and sweet talk. She told him "It's over. Go back to your girlfriend." But he refused to listen.
Five weeks later, on Feb. 13, 2001, he followed her to La Louisanne, a popular West Los Angeles restaurant. It was raining and she was having dinner and listening to jazz with her sister-in-law and best friend, Monique Bray (also my client and friend), who owned a limousine service that catered to stars such as Halle Berry.
He entered the restaurant and asked to join them. Bray reluctantly agreed, not wanting to create a scene. They had words and Bray started to cry. A security guard asked him to leave, and he complied, uncharacteristically calmly.
A couple hours later when they finished dinner and listening to the music, the women exited from a side door escorted to their car by a security guard. Monique planned to drop off Bray at her sister's house down the street. It was about 1 a.m. and still raining.
But Turner laid in wait -- with a shotgun. He opened fired, killing Monique, wounding the guard. Malinda ran for the restaurant before she was shot.
"I remember something that felt like a 2-by-4 hit me on the right side of my face. I was on my stomach praying and the Holy Spirit told me to turn over, and there was Al wearing a cowboy hat, boots and a long rain coat. He pointed the shotgun at my face. ... God is such an awesome God," recalled Bray.
"I said, 'Al, what are you doing?'"
"He said, 'I told you I wasn't playing.'
"When he pulled the trigger I had my hands up in front of my face, but I could still see fire through the [muzzle]. I didn't feel any pain. Then he moved closer, point-blank, and pulled the trigger again -- but there were no more bullets."
Full of fragments, and barely alive, she was rushed by ambulance to UCLA Medical Center in Westwood. She could hear the sirens and identified Turner as the shooter before losing consciousness. She was in surgery for 16 hours, admitted under an assumed name since Turner was still at-large.
The next day he surrendered at the Marina Del Rey sheriff's station. At the arraignment he pleaded not guilty. Turner's two attorneys kept putting off the trial date because of his failing health. Eventually, as his money ran out, he changed his plea to guilty, and Turner died of meningitis and pneumonia in the prison hospital in October 2003.
Bray is still recovering from her injuries. After filing for bankruptcy and without medical insurance, she nearly lost the business and her Compton farm. She still has gun shot in her neck, breast and right hand. A pellet is lodged near her brain next to a blood vessel and several fragments remain in her chest.
Despite her disfigurement, her attitude is positive. "Before he died I told Al's sister to tell him that I forgave him, but I always wanted to ask him why he did something so terrible," said Bray. "This was a man I had loved. There were many good times, but he always had an anger problem."
Bray is building up her trucking business and now has three trucks. In October her company, CMM Trucking, was honored as Small Business of the Quarter by the Compton City Council. Her health is stable and she is working on getting health insurance. She's thought a lot about her ordeal -- looking for answers. Her faith stands firm.
"God brought me back full-circle," she says. "I am back on my farm and Wells Fargo Bank really helped me to keep my home." As a survivor, she is speaking out to counsel others in hopes of saving lives. Her most heartfelt advice: Get help at the very first sign of abuse. "Don't wait because abusers usually get worse."
"I never in a million years suspected he would have done this to me. This was someone I used to love," she said.
She believes her tragedy happened for a reason -- so she could become an advocate for other domestic violence victims.
"I believe my story -- the fact that I have survived domestic abuse -- will give a lot of women hope," said Bray, 53, of Compton.
The state mandates that before interacting with clients of domestic violence agencies, volunteers must take 30 classroom hours and 10 hours of training.
"There is a lot of help out there," says Bray. "People always think they are alone, but they're not."
Malinda Bray is my friend, client, spiritual sister, employer and a true survivor. I have been by her side for 20 years and now we work together to help erase this scourge from the earth.
In April 2001, During her recovery and therapy, Malinda asked me if I would come out of my comfy retirement to help her establish " Wings of a Dove DVS, Inc."
Being a survivor of child abuse myself and having gone thru the ordeal with Malinda and her family "up close and personal", how could I refuse?
In late 2002, we and her family members started "Wings" on a literal wing and a prayer.
In late 2009, we achieved 501 (c) (3) non-profit status.
I am her main "Wingman". I do "protective" interventions.
My salary is $1.00 a year and all the smiles that I can collect from helping Victims Become Victors.
Wings on a Dove DVS, Inc. is Malinda's statement
to all abusers It says'
"I WAS BATTERED BUT NOT BEATEN".
To all victims it says"
YOU ARE NOT ALONE, WE ARE HERE FOR YOU.
Life was good for the first 15 of the 20 years Malinda Bray was married to her husband, Alvin Turner. As a practicing Christian, he sang in the choir and the couple attended Bible study. They were baptized together and renewed their marriage vows on their fifth anniversary.
They operated a trucking company and went on cruises. But when the business began to boom in the late '90s, success went to Turner's head, Bray said, and his behavior started to change. He began staying out late, found another woman, became angry and began a pattern of domestic abuse.
Vividly remembering the 15 good years of marriage, Bray said she vacillated about staying in the relationship or leaving even as verbal and physical abuse increased. She tried to appease her husband, wearing different wigs, modeling lingerie for him, cooking his favorite meals.
But his abuse escalated.
One day he pushed her. After that he kicked her and eventually threw a punch. The violence became more frequent, accompanied by threats to her animals. He clobbered her Labrador retriever with a shoe and bashed her horse, Star, with a heavy wooden beam. Later he threatened Bray with a gun, which accidentally went off, just missing her.
She went out of state for a week to hide, once. Her father and her pastor had talks with him. Her mother and her husband were close friends. They prayed together daily. It was a complicated situation.
Turner was a big guy. She used to feel protected by him. Now she lived in fear of him. After every incident, he blamed his behavior on her, on circumstances beyond his control, on life in general. He begged forgiveness. Looking back, his actions were a blueprint from the textbook on domestic violence.
When he wanted to move in with another woman, Bray agreed with the condition that she would stay in the house and continue to run the business. But ultimately she filed for divorce. The judge granted it on Jan. 4, 2001. But even this didn't end her nightmare.
Before long, he wanted Bray back. He showered her with gifts and sweet talk. She told him "It's over. Go back to your girlfriend." But he refused to listen.
Five weeks later, on Feb. 13, 2001, he followed her to La Louisanne, a popular West Los Angeles restaurant. It was raining and she was having dinner and listening to jazz with her sister-in-law and best friend, Monique Bray (also my client and friend), who owned a limousine service that catered to stars such as Halle Berry.
He entered the restaurant and asked to join them. Bray reluctantly agreed, not wanting to create a scene. They had words and Bray started to cry. A security guard asked him to leave, and he complied, uncharacteristically calmly.
A couple hours later when they finished dinner and listening to the music, the women exited from a side door escorted to their car by a security guard. Monique planned to drop off Bray at her sister's house down the street. It was about 1 a.m. and still raining.
But Turner laid in wait -- with a shotgun. He opened fired, killing Monique, wounding the guard. Malinda ran for the restaurant before she was shot.
"I remember something that felt like a 2-by-4 hit me on the right side of my face. I was on my stomach praying and the Holy Spirit told me to turn over, and there was Al wearing a cowboy hat, boots and a long rain coat. He pointed the shotgun at my face. ... God is such an awesome God," recalled Bray.
"I said, 'Al, what are you doing?'"
"He said, 'I told you I wasn't playing.'
"When he pulled the trigger I had my hands up in front of my face, but I could still see fire through the [muzzle]. I didn't feel any pain. Then he moved closer, point-blank, and pulled the trigger again -- but there were no more bullets."
Full of fragments, and barely alive, she was rushed by ambulance to UCLA Medical Center in Westwood. She could hear the sirens and identified Turner as the shooter before losing consciousness. She was in surgery for 16 hours, admitted under an assumed name since Turner was still at-large.
The next day he surrendered at the Marina Del Rey sheriff's station. At the arraignment he pleaded not guilty. Turner's two attorneys kept putting off the trial date because of his failing health. Eventually, as his money ran out, he changed his plea to guilty, and Turner died of meningitis and pneumonia in the prison hospital in October 2003.
Bray is still recovering from her injuries. After filing for bankruptcy and without medical insurance, she nearly lost the business and her Compton farm. She still has gun shot in her neck, breast and right hand. A pellet is lodged near her brain next to a blood vessel and several fragments remain in her chest.
Despite her disfigurement, her attitude is positive. "Before he died I told Al's sister to tell him that I forgave him, but I always wanted to ask him why he did something so terrible," said Bray. "This was a man I had loved. There were many good times, but he always had an anger problem."
Bray is building up her trucking business and now has three trucks. In October her company, CMM Trucking, was honored as Small Business of the Quarter by the Compton City Council. Her health is stable and she is working on getting health insurance. She's thought a lot about her ordeal -- looking for answers. Her faith stands firm.
"God brought me back full-circle," she says. "I am back on my farm and Wells Fargo Bank really helped me to keep my home." As a survivor, she is speaking out to counsel others in hopes of saving lives. Her most heartfelt advice: Get help at the very first sign of abuse. "Don't wait because abusers usually get worse."
"I never in a million years suspected he would have done this to me. This was someone I used to love," she said.
She believes her tragedy happened for a reason -- so she could become an advocate for other domestic violence victims.
"I believe my story -- the fact that I have survived domestic abuse -- will give a lot of women hope," said Bray, 53, of Compton.
The state mandates that before interacting with clients of domestic violence agencies, volunteers must take 30 classroom hours and 10 hours of training.
"There is a lot of help out there," says Bray. "People always think they are alone, but they're not."
Malinda Bray is my friend, client, spiritual sister, employer and a true survivor. I have been by her side for 20 years and now we work together to help erase this scourge from the earth.
In April 2001, During her recovery and therapy, Malinda asked me if I would come out of my comfy retirement to help her establish " Wings of a Dove DVS, Inc."
Being a survivor of child abuse myself and having gone thru the ordeal with Malinda and her family "up close and personal", how could I refuse?
In late 2002, we and her family members started "Wings" on a literal wing and a prayer.
In late 2009, we achieved 501 (c) (3) non-profit status.
I am her main "Wingman". I do "protective" interventions.
My salary is $1.00 a year and all the smiles that I can collect from helping Victims Become Victors.
Wings on a Dove DVS, Inc. is Malinda's statement
to all abusers It says'
"I WAS BATTERED BUT NOT BEATEN".
To all victims it says"
YOU ARE NOT ALONE, WE ARE HERE FOR YOU.
