The Day The Sky Broke Open
The Day The Sky Broke Open
By Keith T. Hoerner, Adelaide Books, $19.60
It is generally accepted that child maltreatment is something that does happen, but, more often than not, its reality isn’t fully digested or confronted. It is something we witness on television screens or read about in newspapers. There are still a lot of stigmas and misunderstandings that are attached to the idea of children being abused. There is a dire need for the general public to realize how common it is, how there is a strong possibility that it could be happening across the street from us or within the family of someone we work with.
The Day the Sky Broke Open by Keith T. Hoerner is a compelling memoir about a survivor. It focuses on Hoerner as the “target child” of his mother’s emotional and physical abuse. Given this subject matter, I encourage interested readers to proceed with caution. He tells his story through fragmented snippets of nearly 60 years of his life. A lot of the pieces focus on growing up in a household of 11 children (13 if one wasn’t stillborn and the other didn’t die just hours after birth). In one of those snippets, Hoerner clarifies his use of the word “house” as well as his refusal to use the word “home” instead. The house he grew up in was never a home, given his mother’s abuse and everyone else’s complicity.
Other sections center on Hoerner’s college years, struggling to navigate his newfound freedom, and his budding alcoholism that worsened as he got older. The reader learns of Hoerner’s relationship and eventual marriage with his wife, Anne, his PTSD, the consequences of his alcoholism, and learning to liberate himself from his past without forgetting it completely so he can heal. These interconnected stories demonstrate a level of strength and vulnerability I can’t help but admire. And not only do these things shine in the book but they also shine through Hoerner’s interactions. One of my favorite scenes in the book is when a psychologist and ex-marine tells him:
“If I ever went back to war and could pick just one person to share a foxhole with
- I’d want you at my back.”
I remember being moved and still take great pride in this remark. It gave me strength, didn’t make me feel so weak. I knew he was right, that I had inherently high survival skills. I was the veritable walking dead. Zombie of zombies! But this remark reaffirmed me, re-inflated my soul with the breath of trust.”
If I were ever in a war, my choice would probably be the same as the psychologist’s.
The way Hoerner uses highly vivid and detailed imagery to share his story is admirable. Whilst he is recounting his mother’s methods of abuse, he describes the juxtaposition of his brothers casually watching Gunsmoke and Laugh-In in the same vicinity. When I was reading, I could visualize the well-worn tennis shoes Hoerner wore as a child due to financial insecurity. I felt the shame, disgust, rage, exhilaration, lows, and despondency he felt. Hoerner’s talent of making the reader sense what he is sensing is exactly what separates his memoir from accounts of abuse in news outlets. It’s not cold, nor does it read like an encyclopedia. It doesn’t desensitize the reader or glorify its content.
The Day the Sky Broke Open is deeply personal and grounds us into a reality where abuse isn’t an absurd occurrence. It forces us to rethink how we perceive abuse and what society can do to assist abuse victims as well as preventing abuse from happening in the first place.
Hoerner doesn’t deliver a sugarcoated, watered-down account of his story. There are many parts in his memoir that are written as pessimistic and bitter because those are the effects of his maltreatment in childhood. When arguing with his mother over what she did to him for so many years, readers get a front-row seat of the snide remarks he makes in his head. His thoughts on certain situations are sarcastic, because it is his way of coping with the darkness that eats at him.
Hoerner is also unafraid of showing the complexity and contradictions of his nature. Despite (rightfully) hating his mother for all she’s done, he also loves her and is sometimes clouded by his compassion for her. Here is another lesson he and readers learn: love and hate can coexist. They are two sides of the same coin.
We are encouraged to not simply read Hoerner’s memoir but to also be active participants. Before he tells his story, Hoerner pleads with the reader to listen. According to him, reading is a passive act. By listening, we are fully opening ourselves to Hoerner’s story and allowing his words to have an effect on us. Listening gives us the opportunity to practice empathy which is essential to practice given the memoir’s subject matter. Additionally, Hoerner allows us to be writers as well by including an entire blank section at the end of his memoir dedicated to us writing our own story. In doing this, we are able to heal with Hoerner and the book becomes a part of both of our experiences.
The Day the Sky Broke Open was not an easy read for me. I have never gone through child maltreatment, nor have I ever had an addiction of some sort. But, I do know what it is like to carry pain within myself and to navigate the trial and error of healing.
It must be emphasized that Hoerner’s story is just one of many child maltreatment stories. He is not the first and he is not the last. His story alone won’t minimize the effects of abuse or eradicate it altogether; however, it makes a small difference and is a step in the right direction. Hoerner has written an engaging and powerful memoir to seek reconciliation, to give voice to a phenomenon that has been silenced or inundated with misconceptions, and to help others find the courage to rebuild.
Lily Alvarado
Lily Alvarado (she/her) was born and raised in The Bronx, New York. Currently, she is an undergraduate student attending SUNY Plattsburgh. There, she majors in English Literature and Gender and Women's Studies and is completing her certification in Professional Writing. When she's not working on an assignment, she can be found doing yoga, taking long walks in nature, or caring for her bearded dragon, Riley.