
Catherine Winick was barely 17 when Jason was conceived. Willis Todd, the father, was a high school dropout with a chest tattoo and a motorcycle, and Catherine fell in love instantly. She had come from wealth, but was cut off as soon as her parents got the call about her pregnancy. To manage, she started waiting tables at a strip club, while Willis dealt speed out of the back room.
Soon enough, Jason was born, and Catherine moved up the ladder, getting the gig as the lounge singer at the club. Music is one of the things Jason remembers most vividly about her; she was always singing. From The Doors to Elton John to Rolling Stones, The Germs to Fleetwood Mac, she knew it all.
Willis was busy making his way up the gang ladder, and so the task of caring for Jason was split between Catherine and the dancers and bartenders at the club. When Jason was two, Willis was arrested; Catherine was left alone then. She started dancing to pay the bills, and heroin to forget. She stopped singing then.
Years later, and Jason has only brief memories of those years. Pulsing lights. A bass line that made his teeth rattle. Soft lullabies, cooed into his ears. The ladies that were so nice, the ones in robes and swimsuits. His first record, Dire Strait’s Brothers in Arms. He remembers being on center stage, long after any patrons remained. Sitting on the thick plexiglass, feet sprawled out, back against the chrome pole. He was happy, even though logic tells him it wasn’t right.
After his return to Gotham, he bought the club, long since shut down. He demolished it, and put in a shelter for women and children facing drug and alcohol addiction. Called St. Catherine’s, it sees over 10,000 visitors a year.
