The two photos I have posted on this page are of me. the one on the left is me at 11 around the time I was raped by Fr. “C” (Christian). The one on the right is me today.

My parents had just gotten a divorce about two years before. Dad had a girlfriend and mom had Father Christian, and I, I had lost both my parents as they looked after themselves. My older brother had joined the Army, my baby brother was five. Grandpa Billy was very sick with lung cancer. Grandpa Fischer had a stroke, and I had no one anymore. No males, plenty of females: Grandma Billy who pretty well raised me after Aunt Nelly had died 2 years before, and Mom, who was having a nervous breakdown. She would have crying fits that would sometimes last for one or two days but most of the time just a few hours. We would call Father and he would come and talk to her, take her out, and later she would be somewhat better. This went on for about two years, he became a very close family friend. He was my hero, he could come in and calm mom down almost just with “hello Jo Ann”. Things were very bad at times. It was not uncommon for her to call me and my little brother into a room at night and ask us to pray with her. She would start off nice and then she would ask God to take her life before morning. This would, of course, cause an explosion of tears and much begging from my brother and myself. Nights were particularly bad.

Before the divorce Dad and I were as close as any father and son could be. I now believe mom turned this against me, not in a “I’ll get you for that” way. but in a way someone who is having a nervous breakdown thinks. I think she let me get hurt to get back at dad, she (here with full knowledge of what she was doing) tore mine and dads relationship into a million pieces and not to hurt me, but to stab him in his heart. Sadly this is what led to my rape.