When I was in teacher training and throughout my career as a teacher, it was prevalent to encourage teachers to encourage the uniqueness of each student. It was the "You're special" factor that was always encouraged.
I think it's common sense. We all want and need to feel special, to have our "brand" of person affirmed and approved. We need to feel loved.
Over the years of speaking to clergy sex abuse survivors, I have been horrified at how many times I have heard of the distortion of "specialness."
"You're my special boy (or girl)."
"We won't tell anyone about our special love."
"I do these things to you because you are special."
The mantra goes on and on as the pedophile puts the child or teen in a death grip or conflicting emotions. The victims hates the actions but is caught because he or she is being told by someone who is supposed to be protective and good and responsible and an adult. In other words, life experiences are not complete enough for the child or teen to comprehend the evil that is happening.
Ultimately the victim is caught accepting blame for what has happened. The pedophile walks away unscathed.
I am very careful about telling anyone they are special. Too often it evokes pain and not happiness. All because a powerful adult used those words to excuse the crimes of sexual abuse against the defenseless.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Children, ruin your lives
I am so sick to death of these arrogant, self-righteous adults! Here is the picture of a molester of young boys.
Dan DuPree. AKA Father Daniel T. DuPree of Memphis, Tennessee. Abused over and over.
Yesterday, the court ruled against the courageous man who is trying to tell you the truth about this pedophile. But he can't tell you because he didn't tell you years ago.
It's not about money. It's about the truth.
He knows that Dan DuPree is still out there. DuPree left the priesthood and is now living somewhere near Texarkana. Don't bother looking on the sex offender list. He's not there and won't be there because the duplicit Memphis Catholic diocese waited out the pathetic statute of limitation so that they would not have to be liable for the perversion of Dupree and other pedophile priests.
Here's is the reason that the court has given for tossing out this heroic attempt to get out the truth.
The man filing suit against the church for lying and hiding this pedophile did not tell his parents, tell his neighbors, tell his friends, tell his girlfriend, tell his high school graduating class, tell the police, tell the judge, tell the court, tell the jury, tell the citizens of Memphis, tell the state of Tennessee, tell the entire country about Dan Dupree by the time he was 19 years old.
19 YEARS OLD. 19 YEARS OLD. Are you hearing this people???? What else in the world does a 19-year-old have to do except to openly ruin his life by telling the world that he was molested?
A victim, a young man barely over 18 and not yet the legal age to even drink a beer, did not ruin his life by reporting to EVERYONE about Dan Dupree. So he gets no justice, and Dan DuPree still lurks out there, able to abuse at will. And the church still keeps its deep, dark, evil secrets about how much abuse has occurred at the hands of its clergy?
Wrong??? You bet it's wrong!!!! It's so much more than wrong that I don't have room to go into all the ways.
Is Dan Dupree one of the 10 pedophiles that the Diocese of Memphis told the district attorney about? We don't know because we are not told those 10 names.
If you are sitting there reading this and you don't demand the truth from the catholic church in Tennessee, you are complicit in this crime. You are, as I said before, an arrogant, self-righteous adult.
Shame on all of us for the continued abuse of our children.
Dan DuPree. AKA Father Daniel T. DuPree of Memphis, Tennessee. Abused over and over.
Yesterday, the court ruled against the courageous man who is trying to tell you the truth about this pedophile. But he can't tell you because he didn't tell you years ago.
It's not about money. It's about the truth.
He knows that Dan DuPree is still out there. DuPree left the priesthood and is now living somewhere near Texarkana. Don't bother looking on the sex offender list. He's not there and won't be there because the duplicit Memphis Catholic diocese waited out the pathetic statute of limitation so that they would not have to be liable for the perversion of Dupree and other pedophile priests.
Here's is the reason that the court has given for tossing out this heroic attempt to get out the truth.
The man filing suit against the church for lying and hiding this pedophile did not tell his parents, tell his neighbors, tell his friends, tell his girlfriend, tell his high school graduating class, tell the police, tell the judge, tell the court, tell the jury, tell the citizens of Memphis, tell the state of Tennessee, tell the entire country about Dan Dupree by the time he was 19 years old.
19 YEARS OLD. 19 YEARS OLD. Are you hearing this people???? What else in the world does a 19-year-old have to do except to openly ruin his life by telling the world that he was molested?
A victim, a young man barely over 18 and not yet the legal age to even drink a beer, did not ruin his life by reporting to EVERYONE about Dan Dupree. So he gets no justice, and Dan DuPree still lurks out there, able to abuse at will. And the church still keeps its deep, dark, evil secrets about how much abuse has occurred at the hands of its clergy?
Wrong??? You bet it's wrong!!!! It's so much more than wrong that I don't have room to go into all the ways.
Is Dan Dupree one of the 10 pedophiles that the Diocese of Memphis told the district attorney about? We don't know because we are not told those 10 names.
If you are sitting there reading this and you don't demand the truth from the catholic church in Tennessee, you are complicit in this crime. You are, as I said before, an arrogant, self-righteous adult.
Shame on all of us for the continued abuse of our children.
Monday, September 15, 2008
That little house behind the school
I never realized until I went to my 40th class reunion that people were upset that Knoxville Catholic High School had moved to a new location and sold the old school. Without going into details, I know that the sentimentality of the old school is very great, and people are loathe to turn loose of those things that matter to them. KCHS matters to many of us. Rich and fond memories for most; pain, humiliation, and horror for some.
It's really all about that little house behind the school.
Old KCHS on Magnolia had become a rather dangerous place because of its location in the city. Drug dealers on the streets were far too frequent. Staying late at school for extracurricular activities had become a security nightmare. It was really necessary to move, but before all that came about, there was a danger far more sinister and more perverse than most could imagine. And it all came about in that little house behind the school.
It was the priest's house. That's what we called it anyway. If the principal of the high school were a priest, he lived there. So it was when Father Frank Richards was principal of KCHS in the mid 80s. And Frank Richards is a pedophile who preys on teenage boys.
He would ask unwitting parents to let their son come to spend the night. There were several who were going to come there, he said, and there was work to be done and fun to be had. All too soon, the fun ceased, and the shame and horror began.
It was the alcohol or the drugs or the pornography or any combination of these that started it all. Father Richards gave it to the boys so what could they say. He was cool. He let them taste the wilder side of their approaching manhood, so why not participate. "Father said it's okay" is a strong argument to the teen brought up in the strict Catholic homes of yesteryear.
And then he abused them. Frequently they were dazed with alcohol. Sometimes not dazed enough, but the results were always the same. Shame. Guilt. Pain. Despair.
"I don't think your parents would want to hear what you did." And now, years later, the horror of that little house behind the school still haunts these once-innocent boys, now men. Still brings chills and nausea and sometimes the desire to recreate those alcohol and drug-induced, mind-numbed moments so they don't have to remember.
And Frank Richards is a free man. Ex-priest. Not prosecutable because of statutes of limitations. Murderer of souls. One time occupant of that little house behind the school.
It was time to move KCHS away from the pain.
It's really all about that little house behind the school.
Old KCHS on Magnolia had become a rather dangerous place because of its location in the city. Drug dealers on the streets were far too frequent. Staying late at school for extracurricular activities had become a security nightmare. It was really necessary to move, but before all that came about, there was a danger far more sinister and more perverse than most could imagine. And it all came about in that little house behind the school.
It was the priest's house. That's what we called it anyway. If the principal of the high school were a priest, he lived there. So it was when Father Frank Richards was principal of KCHS in the mid 80s. And Frank Richards is a pedophile who preys on teenage boys.
He would ask unwitting parents to let their son come to spend the night. There were several who were going to come there, he said, and there was work to be done and fun to be had. All too soon, the fun ceased, and the shame and horror began.
It was the alcohol or the drugs or the pornography or any combination of these that started it all. Father Richards gave it to the boys so what could they say. He was cool. He let them taste the wilder side of their approaching manhood, so why not participate. "Father said it's okay" is a strong argument to the teen brought up in the strict Catholic homes of yesteryear.
And then he abused them. Frequently they were dazed with alcohol. Sometimes not dazed enough, but the results were always the same. Shame. Guilt. Pain. Despair.
"I don't think your parents would want to hear what you did." And now, years later, the horror of that little house behind the school still haunts these once-innocent boys, now men. Still brings chills and nausea and sometimes the desire to recreate those alcohol and drug-induced, mind-numbed moments so they don't have to remember.
And Frank Richards is a free man. Ex-priest. Not prosecutable because of statutes of limitations. Murderer of souls. One time occupant of that little house behind the school.
It was time to move KCHS away from the pain.
The pedophile priest and the toy train
I saw an advertisement on TV today for an upcoming toy train exhibit at the Knoxville Expo Center. Huge displays of trains with long winding tracks, landscapes, villages, imitation ponds and lakes. It looked so idealic. Like a Norman Rockwell painting. Families will go there and enjoy the day. Dads and Moms will laugh and smile as they watch their sons and daughters enjoy the meanderings of the toy trains.
Then I remembered the boys. The 11-year-old olds. The 10-year-old olds. The 12-year-olds. The ones whose parents dropped them off at Father Edward McKeown's house, the rectory where he had a huge train set up in the basement. The house where he gathered boys for sleepovers to play with the toy train set. To have innocent fun. Or so the parents thought.
But Father McKeown never had enough room for the boys to sleep. Seems like one boy always found himself sharing the bed with McKeown. And the stage for McKeown to molest was set, organized every bit as meticulously as his elaborate train set and fake landscape and sleepovers. Arranged to feed his evil predilection for these boys, whose parents trusted him. The rape of childhood had begun.
I know so many men, once happy children in small Tennessee towns, who will not attend a toy train show this weekend. They can't. The very sights and sounds of those trains will nauseate them and fill them with revulsion and despair. Their childhood was robbed from them by McKeown. The church officials knew. They did nothing.
McKeown was put in jail years and years later by an irate non-Catholic mother whose son was molested by the wicked ex-priest McKeown. In a trailer park where he lived. Long after the diocese of Nashville turned the monster loose to abuse where they could turn their shameful faces away and not see.
Clergy sexual abuse ruins lives in so many ways, hidden dreadful ways. The toy trains are dust-covered and put away in attics as grown men weep for their childhood lost.
Keep Edward McKeown in prison. Away from his toy train set. Away from the young boys. Your sons. Your neighbors.
Ask your bishop to tell us the names of all of these evil clergy predators. It's the least they could do.
Then I remembered the boys. The 11-year-old olds. The 10-year-old olds. The 12-year-olds. The ones whose parents dropped them off at Father Edward McKeown's house, the rectory where he had a huge train set up in the basement. The house where he gathered boys for sleepovers to play with the toy train set. To have innocent fun. Or so the parents thought.
But Father McKeown never had enough room for the boys to sleep. Seems like one boy always found himself sharing the bed with McKeown. And the stage for McKeown to molest was set, organized every bit as meticulously as his elaborate train set and fake landscape and sleepovers. Arranged to feed his evil predilection for these boys, whose parents trusted him. The rape of childhood had begun.
I know so many men, once happy children in small Tennessee towns, who will not attend a toy train show this weekend. They can't. The very sights and sounds of those trains will nauseate them and fill them with revulsion and despair. Their childhood was robbed from them by McKeown. The church officials knew. They did nothing.
McKeown was put in jail years and years later by an irate non-Catholic mother whose son was molested by the wicked ex-priest McKeown. In a trailer park where he lived. Long after the diocese of Nashville turned the monster loose to abuse where they could turn their shameful faces away and not see.
Clergy sexual abuse ruins lives in so many ways, hidden dreadful ways. The toy trains are dust-covered and put away in attics as grown men weep for their childhood lost.
Keep Edward McKeown in prison. Away from his toy train set. Away from the young boys. Your sons. Your neighbors.
Ask your bishop to tell us the names of all of these evil clergy predators. It's the least they could do.
Abusing a teenager
There are people out there who simply do not believe that it is possible to abuse a teenager. I've talked to them, and their logic, or lack thereof, is amazing. Their ignorance of abuse and how is occurs is even more astounding.
Apparently, when you are a teenager, you are supposed to be equipped with all the tools in a human being's arsenal to thwart any intrusion into your life. Never mind that the teenage years, as I recall, are times of great uncertainty, lack of confidence, fumbling social steps forward . . . and steps backward. Never mind that there are dozens of frightening and confusing events facing the teenager almost daily, almost hourly. Never mind that you feel ugly, fat, awkward, insignificant and a hundred other negative things.
But to this group of observers, a teenager should repel the spiritual leader who controls his or her sphere of reference, the person in charge of his or her school, church, or diocese. A teenager should readily stand up and stop abuse by his or her mentor, the person who comes to dinner, the cleric whose virtues his or her parents extol on every possible occasion so that their children will love the church, the priest who everyone says is such a holy man.
The absolute certainty that these people have that it is just that easy . . . say "No" to an authority figure of the highest spiritual stature in your life at that time. It's easy, they say. Just say "No." Just push him down and run. Just tell your parents.
The utter naivete of this view takes my breath away.
After you are plied with alcohol, drugs, and pornography or any combination thereof, the abuser will have his or her way, and you are powerless whether you are 5 or 15 or 25 or . . . whatever.
When the perpetrator says, "It's okay. This is how you receive a special communion from me." You lose faith.
When the perpetrator says, "Your mother would be so ashamed of you if I told them what you did." You keep silent.
When the perpetrator says, "It's our special secret. It's how I show you I love you." You are emotionally bereft of future certitude in relationships.
When the perpetrator says, "Now go to confession and confess to God the sin you just did and the sin YOU made me do." You leave the church or attend wounded for the rest of your life.
Now self-righteous people, is it so clear-cut now? Or have you lost all perspective on life itself that you would blame a teenager for abuse rather than the twisted pervert who is raping, sodomizing, humiliating, destroying. . . .
People get a grip. A teenager is so much a child in formation. They need our protection as children in progress.
As for the pedophile who would do this to a teenager, I cannot write what I truly think should happen to this priest, nun, brother, minister, rabbi, etc.
Read my mind.
Apparently, when you are a teenager, you are supposed to be equipped with all the tools in a human being's arsenal to thwart any intrusion into your life. Never mind that the teenage years, as I recall, are times of great uncertainty, lack of confidence, fumbling social steps forward . . . and steps backward. Never mind that there are dozens of frightening and confusing events facing the teenager almost daily, almost hourly. Never mind that you feel ugly, fat, awkward, insignificant and a hundred other negative things.
But to this group of observers, a teenager should repel the spiritual leader who controls his or her sphere of reference, the person in charge of his or her school, church, or diocese. A teenager should readily stand up and stop abuse by his or her mentor, the person who comes to dinner, the cleric whose virtues his or her parents extol on every possible occasion so that their children will love the church, the priest who everyone says is such a holy man.
The absolute certainty that these people have that it is just that easy . . . say "No" to an authority figure of the highest spiritual stature in your life at that time. It's easy, they say. Just say "No." Just push him down and run. Just tell your parents.
The utter naivete of this view takes my breath away.
After you are plied with alcohol, drugs, and pornography or any combination thereof, the abuser will have his or her way, and you are powerless whether you are 5 or 15 or 25 or . . . whatever.
When the perpetrator says, "It's okay. This is how you receive a special communion from me." You lose faith.
When the perpetrator says, "Your mother would be so ashamed of you if I told them what you did." You keep silent.
When the perpetrator says, "It's our special secret. It's how I show you I love you." You are emotionally bereft of future certitude in relationships.
When the perpetrator says, "Now go to confession and confess to God the sin you just did and the sin YOU made me do." You leave the church or attend wounded for the rest of your life.
Now self-righteous people, is it so clear-cut now? Or have you lost all perspective on life itself that you would blame a teenager for abuse rather than the twisted pervert who is raping, sodomizing, humiliating, destroying. . . .
People get a grip. A teenager is so much a child in formation. They need our protection as children in progress.
As for the pedophile who would do this to a teenager, I cannot write what I truly think should happen to this priest, nun, brother, minister, rabbi, etc.
Read my mind.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Paul St. Charles, the PPP
By the way, does this look like a bishop who gets it? Bishop Choby is awarding St. Charles the "Golden Grad Award" from Father Ryan. Sure, you get it for just being alive, but how many boys has he killed in his life? Killing their souls, killing their futures, killing their dreams, wounding their psyches, mangling their hope for a peaceful life.
Looks to me like they would have given him a jail sentence after what he has done to youth. After all, that is what your ordinary, run-of-the-mill pedophile gets. Ask Bishop Steib of Memphis what the files says about the abuse by the PPP. Ask the courts who are still hearing his abuse cases if he is innocent as his legion of followers say.
Bishop Choby, you deserve an award. Let's see . . what should we call that award? Something with alliteration. Well, maybe we can come up with this soon in another post. I'll try to think of some words that I could actually post without having my blog removed for "ugly words" (if you know what I mean.)
Crumbs of cooperation
The Catholic church is so fond of saying that they are now fully cooperative and transparent. Funny thing, transparency. It's hard to attain when you won't release the names of the pedophile priests who have been assigned in your diocese. This is a brick wall if anything, and is just about as transparent as a dark starless night in the dessert.
Names of 18 priests across Tennessee were turned into the now famous John Jay Study at the turn of the millennium. Someone please comment to this post and send me the names. I have asked for 7 years and have never gotten them. (The pathetic excuses the church has given me is the subject of a future blog.)
Do you know who these pedophiles are? Do you know where they were assigned?
Me either. . . except what victims have told me. My mental list is lengthy, and the details gruesome.
But officially, no one knows, and clearly, that is wrong. The church would be guilty of malfeasance and obstruction of justice if it were a secular institution. But since it is "the church" it gets a pass on the truth. Even the justice system seems reluctant to hold it to the same standards as the rest of us.
Crumbs of cooperation. That's what we get. Nothing more. Nothing to sustain our lives, these crumbs that so many accept as enough.
Make a difference. Tell your pastor that you will not give a dime to the collection basket until you get full accountability about these pedophiles. That's what will work. Withhold the money; get the information. Good clear-cut plan. . . if we could only get together and execute the plan.
Names of 18 priests across Tennessee were turned into the now famous John Jay Study at the turn of the millennium. Someone please comment to this post and send me the names. I have asked for 7 years and have never gotten them. (The pathetic excuses the church has given me is the subject of a future blog.)
Do you know who these pedophiles are? Do you know where they were assigned?
Me either. . . except what victims have told me. My mental list is lengthy, and the details gruesome.
But officially, no one knows, and clearly, that is wrong. The church would be guilty of malfeasance and obstruction of justice if it were a secular institution. But since it is "the church" it gets a pass on the truth. Even the justice system seems reluctant to hold it to the same standards as the rest of us.
Crumbs of cooperation. That's what we get. Nothing more. Nothing to sustain our lives, these crumbs that so many accept as enough.
Make a difference. Tell your pastor that you will not give a dime to the collection basket until you get full accountability about these pedophiles. That's what will work. Withhold the money; get the information. Good clear-cut plan. . . if we could only get together and execute the plan.
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