9-15-21 Save the Children
I really don’t know how to start this post. I’m going to tell you a story. It’s a story that’s way overdue.
Forty two years overdue in fact. I’m not really sure how my family and friends will react or interact with
me after they read this but maybe some good will come from it. In fact if one innocent child is saved it
will make whatever I lose ok.
The year was 1972 and our family was on vacation in Bat Cave NC. It was a place that we had been many
times before and had happy memories of past vacations. It was only Dad, Mom, and myself this time.
Mom and Dad liked to sit around and talk to the Garvin’s they were the couple that managed the place
and other guests that were staying there. I was a typical fourteen year old boy who always wanted to be
doing something so one day I told Mom that I was going for a walk down to Chimney Rock village. Mom
said ok just don’t wonder off. So I went walking. There was an Apple Cider mill about a quarter of a mile
down the road so I stopped and went in. There were only a couple of customers in the mill and I walked
around on the inside and was looking at everything. I noticed an older man watching me but I really
didn’t think anything about it because adults are always watching kids to make sure they don’t steal
anything. After a while he approached he and asked me if I would like to see how apple cider was made.
I said sure and followed him to a back room. He started telling me how cute I was and that he would like
to feel of my private parts. He said that he could make me feel really good. I said no but he kept backing
me up until I didn’t have anywhere to go. I tried to wiggle away but couldn’t. He unzipped my pants and
took indecent liberties with my private parts. He decided that wasn’t enough so he molested me. I didn’t
cry or scream or fight. It’s odd what goes through a young boys mind when something like that happens
to you. You just go numb and try to block out what’s happening. After he got done he simply said I told
you that I would make you feel good and don’t go think about telling anyone. Who are they going to
believe you or me and my family. I managed to walk back to the cabins and mom asked how my walk
was and I answered ok. That night in the dark I cried myself to sleep. For the rest of the trip I stayed at
the cabin and told mom I just didn’t feel good. Vacation ended and we went back home.
Every night I relived that nightmare. I saw his face and felt his nasty hands on my body and felt the pain
of him inside of me. I prayed to God to take it away. I asked him why he allowed that to happen to me.
He never answered me back so I decided well I guess I’m just really bad and deserved it. I told him that I
hated him and didn’t want anything else to do with him or his church. My life would become a living hell
for the next 3 years. School started back and that gave me something else to think about but I felt like
everyone was looking at me and talking about me. I felt so dirty and useless and along. I started skipping
school and running around with some other boys. One of my buddies introduced me to wine. It tasted
sweet and warm and if I drank enough of it the pain and the bad feelings got better. Beer would be next
and then hard liquor. I managed to get through the school year how I don’t know. The next school year
would be horrific I was drinking now on a daily basis from morning to night. Just enough to keep the
demons away and feel good at the same time. I really didn’t want to go to school anymore. I might go
two days a week the rest of the time I was running with the guys. Mom would get calls from the school
telling her that I had skipped and I caught hell when I got home but I would go to my room and turn the
stereo on and retreat to my own little world. Secretly I think I blamed mom and dad at that time for
what had happened to be. They were supposed to protect me but if I had told them they probably
wouldn’t have believed me so what would have been the use.
Dad had a 22 handgun that he kept hidden but I knew where it was. I took it to school one day and was
standing outside when another boy came up to me and hit me in the face with his fist. I had been
drinking as always but when he hit me all the rage and anger and hate that I had for the man that
molested me came to the surface. I pulled the gun out and it was only by the grace of God that I guess
my guardian angel kept me from pulling the trigger. I didn’t see the boy standing there it was that evil
son of bitch that had hurt me and I wanted to kill him. I wanted to make him hurt and feel the same pain
that I had felt over and over again. I was expelled from school for the rest of the year charges were
brought and I sent to court as a juvenile on a felony charge. Luckily I had a judge that had a clue and he
ordered a psychiatric evaluation. I meet with the psychiatrist and told her some story and she bought it
and decided that I had a nervous breakdown and put me on meds which I threw away. She wrote her
report to the court the charges were lowered to a misdemeanor and I was put on two year’s probation
with mandatory psychiatric counseling. For the next two years I maintained some sense of sanity thanks
to the alcohol and now valium that the professionals decided that I needed. I went back to school and
they passed me to high school. I think they just wanted to get rid of me and pass their problem to some
one else. Mom and Dad didn’t bother me I think they just felt sorry for me.
In high school things did better. I had got my driver’s license and mom convinced Dad to cosign and help
me get a car. My tolerance to alcohol had increased and I was drinking a case of beer about every two
days. I had a cooler in the back seat of the car which I kept filled up and life was grand. I got a job at the
hospital which was ok most of the time and I had new friends to drink and party with. I had new friends
at school that liked to party. There was always plenty of alcohol and drugs if you were so inclined. I liked
the downers and alcohol. They took away the pain and offered me dreamless sleep. Mom knew that I
stayed stoned most of the time. She let me have a bar in my room in hopes that I would stay home and
drink instead of going out. Most of the time I would go out anyway. She would call the police and tell
them if they saw me out to please follow me home to make sure I got there ok. Sometimes they did.
Things were different back then. I don’t know why people tolerated such behavior then but they did. I
don’t how I managed to survive without killing myself or someone else. I can only think by the grace of
God. The God that I hated and had turned my back on.
I worked with a nice lady at the hospital and she introduced me to her daughter. She was cute red hair
and freckles and younger. I was going to Florida to a EMS convention near Disney World so she asked
me if I would take her daughter along. I said yes. Through high school all my relationships with females
had felled. It wasn’t sex because I didn’t care about sex. I didn’t care about companionship either. I was
broken why would anyone possibly care for or love me. I was afraid that I might turn into a queer or an
abuser or maybe even a serial killer. It’s funny the lies the devil will feed you. Anyway we went to Florida
and we hit it off. She made me laugh and didn’t make me feel like I was being judged. I didn’t know
what love really was but I felled for her and she felt the same way. When we returned home we started
seeing each other. I practically stayed at her house when I wasn’t working and we did what
unsupervised teenagers usually do. Her dad drank so I was welcomed to join in so I felt right at home. It
was a nice summer but I couldn’t control my actions when I was away from her and I partied and drank
and did drugs with other girls and her mom found out so again I blew up another relationship. I really
cared about this girl but I was always running away scared of the truth coming out. I knew if it did I
might as well be dead because I would never be able to go back to school and face anyone again. Suicide
began to look like an option after all I was already dammed for my sins. We had gone to the movies and
seen Ode to Billy Joe. I had no prior idea what the story line was. Wow Billy Joe jumped off the bridge
and committed suicide because he had sex with another man even though he loved Bobby Lee. Bobby
Lee forgave him but he couldn’t forgive himself. I couldn’t forgive myself either. Why in the hell didn’t I
do something to stop it? I should have done something anything. And then I didn’t even have the balls
to tell anyone what had happened. What a worthless piece of shit I was. These are the lies and thoughts
that a teenager has after going through sexual abuse, assault or whatever you want to call it. Female or
male it doesn’t matter it’s the same pain they go through. I would have several more years of failed
relationships, two tries at suicide, and other horrific events before I understood that I had become
powerless over what had consumed me and taken over my life. I had two choices I could die or I could
crawl back to the same God that I had cursed and swore that I would never turn to again. I honestly
don’t know why I went back to God. Maybe it was something in my subconscious that I had learned in all
the years that mom had taken me to church. Maybe it was divine intervention or all the prayers that I’m
sure my Mom had offered to God in my behalf to save her son.
Please don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t want your sympathy. What I do want is your action. I want you to
take care of your children and all the children that you come in contact with. I want you to get mad as
hell every time you read a story or see one on the news about an adult abusing a child. I want you to
write a letter or call someone in authority and raise hell and demand that they do something to stop the
madness. It may not be your child this time but it’s another Mother’s or Father’s child. I hope and pray
that you never have to live with such pain. I beg you to please give a damn and do something and help
save our innocent children
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