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07/16/2000
I've shared
before that my daughter's friend's little sister was molested by a neighbor.
This time my daughter and her friend called the police. Did you notice I said
this time? She was molested a year ago, her dad just talked to the guy, and
nothing more was done. As a victim (not a survivor) does, she was sitting on
his couch again when his little son left the room and he molested my
daughter's friend's little sister again.
I told my
daughter I was surprised she didn't talk to a parent before calling the
police. My daughter said, "Why? I learned this from you!"
That day the
police arrived, took the 12 year old girl a little down the sidewalk to talk
to her alone. The molester had left for work. My daughter and a couple of
friends were on the wall watching the cars driving by, gawking at the
policeman's car, gawking at the policeman interviewing the 12yo, gawking at
the girls sitting on the wall. They got a bright idea. They slowly slid off
the wall, stood against the wall, and put their hands behind the backs.
*rueful giggle* Got the picture of the fun they were having?
Over the next
couple of weeks police were interviewing people, wiring the father
to talk to the molester and see if he'd confess, and were going to talk to my
daughter.
Today we heard he
didn't confess, but they arrested him and there's a $100,000 bond on him. My
daughter's friends rent a small home on the lot, the molester's Mexican, I
imagine he can't post bond. Child Protective Services is going to be
visiting my daughter's friend's home to find out why they didn't call police
the first time the 12yo was molested by that man.
Those of you who
don't know my story, my 14 years older sister had a breakdown (not psychotic)
remembering being molested by my father 30 years before my breakdown (not
psychotic) remembering repeated rape by my father thruout childhood. My
twin and I were 7 years old at the time of her breakdown. My sister was in
therapy, calling both our parents over a couple of weeks screaming at them
over the phone about the abuse. At that time the therapist was not required to
notify the authorities. Several years later my sister moved back in with
her parents, a single mom with 4 daughters. 2 of those daughters had a
breakdown in adulthood remembering before I had my breakdown (my father died
10 years before my breakdown). One of those niece's had another breakdown
after mine, was diagnosed schizophrenic, and my family wouldn't let me know
her whereabouts cuz I might tell the hospital doctors the truth. My twin had a
breakdown 10 years before me after dad died. Her breakdown was about how much
she missed dad, and that they had something "special" between them
that she couldn't tell me about. She never went into therapy as promised to
the doctors in the mental clinic where she spent the night after her psychotic
break.
They all demanded
I keep silent. My mother said I would thank her one day for having kept the
secrets. My sister said, "No one's been so loud about it before."
Neither she nor I
had any idea how loud I would get about it. My niece's (who'd had a breakdown
remembering about my father) 5yo daughter had been molested by her own father
a year before I had a breakdown remembering. She was watching a tv ad
about bad touch, and told her mom about oral sex, had a vaginal infection, and
the estranged father's roommate was a convicted pedophile. My little
grandniece wouldn't tell CPS her story, so her dad wasn't arrested. My sister
convinced her daughter, my niece, that my grandniece should continue
visitation with her father because, "after all, that's her father."
My sister was repeating a decision she'd made more than 30 years ago about our
own father.
That's what
helped motivate me to share our families' story, about how silence helped the
crime move thru the generations, about how silence allows the crime to be
covered up, only to have the crime and cover up be repeated years later, so it
can begin all over again.
I used to speak,
write and perform on the subject. I've been published locally in Vegas, and
nationally in survivors' newsletters.
I have mixed
feelings hearing how the police care and are taking action about the 12yo's
molester. Part of me feels resentful that police didn't intervene and stop the
abuse in our family. Mentally I know they were never informed. Part of me
feels cold, wondering why they care. Part of me resents the police uniform. After
the worst of my breakdown remembering, a favorite niece's (who didn't have a
breakdown remembering before me, remembered a couple of years after my
breakdown, and sued my mother and the family trust fund - the money the reason
my mother said I'd be thankful one day for having kept the secret) sargeant
husband came over to my house - something he'd never done before. He was in
full uniform. I'm shuddering from head to toe having finished the worst of my
breakdown over 3 days and nights at home. My husband lets him in my
bedroom thinking he's here to offer support and visit. He's not. He stands in
full uniform looking at me sitting and shuddering on the bed, shaking his
finger at me and telling me, "Don't you dare get Marlene involved in
this." I said in a small voice, "I won't." He left. So far she
was the only one supporting me. Now I lost her support. Now an authority
figure is frightening and intimidating my already terror stricken inner
child. I don't know if Marlene ever knew he did that. I didn't tell her.
I couldn't believe how cruel he was doing that to my family or I. And what kind of message does that send to a victim of a crime? Don't talk about it. Don' t tell... I have since called child protective services 3xs. Once when my high school son's friend was beaten with belt buckle. CPS didn't see the bruise that had been on her inner thigh and warned her parents another incident, and they might lose their daughter. My son was angry with me for calling. Once when a best friend told me about the 4yo boy she regularly babysat describing the oral sex his well-known Vegas performer grandfather was doing to him. His adult daughter, the mother of that boy, had told my friend about her father raping her at 19 years old. I lost that best friend over my reporting what she'd told me. The performer wasn't arrested but I don't see him performing in Vegas anymore. I don't remember what the 3rd time was. I report what I learn about, and let go of the result. A tiny part of me (I suspect that part of me will grow to a larger part as I express and release the other feelings I'm having) feels grateful that this molester is arrested. Whether he's convicted or not, the hardship of arrest puts out on the table that molesting a child is not ok. I feel grateful to my daughter and her friend insisting on calling the police when they heard about the abuse. I feel grateful to the survivor daring to tell. I feel grateful to the police and CPS caring to follow thru.
When you get discouraged about the seemingly small successes of
today remember: A Boeing 747's wingspan is longer than the Wright
brothers' first flight. But without the Wrights where would we fly
today?
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