As I write this, my anger churns deep within me. I sense the betrayal and victimization scour raw my wounded soul. To have been so helplessly vulnerable. To know that the extent to which that vulnerability was taken advantage of. To later be told he was laughing about it. And bragging about it. And that he was getting away with it -- because the Archdiocese was covering everything up.
Grooming is the gradual erosion of an individual’s perception of what is acceptable and what is not.
How hot is too hot? How long is too long? When does a simple hug become inappropriate?
Even as an adult, I sometimes find that decision difficult to make until I have pushed the envelope a little too far. But, as an adult, I have the ability to return to safety.
As a child, it was not possible. There was an adult in control.
One of the things we did a lot was wrestle. As an adult, I know that a 54-year-old priest wrestling around on the floor with a 7-year-old little girl is wrong (and disgusting!). As time went on, it became “normal”. Little games were added now and then. Eventually, it became, “Let’s pretend we’re the dogs. They don’t wear any clothes.” P removing my clothing while we were wrestling was just part of a game. Right?
Blurring the line between right and wrong is a skill cleverly employed by an abuser.
Frequently the process of grooming a child for abuse includes grooming his or her family as well. I have arranged the process of what I experienced into stages.
For my parent's vantage point, it seems to be a natural, acceptable progression. What was really going on was a progression that led me to a very dangerous place and my parents to a false sense of security.
This is a very simplified look at the steps p took: (What my parents did not know is in red.)
I'm not sure why the pastor zeroed in on me. But a child showing signs of abuse or neglect can become an interest to an abuser. I remember an incident when I was very young that might have caught his attention. I went to school one day with bruises resulting from Dad's rage the night before. Pressured for an explanation, I knew I could not tell them I had been bad and made my Dad mad at me. I made up a scenarion that made sense to me, but did not meet the satisfaction of my teacher, school nurse, or principal. I still remember having to act out the improbable scenario. I imagine they reported the situation to the pastor since he was the highest in rank.
He singled my family out from other people leaving church and showed a special interest in us
He spent time alone with me, without my parents’ knowledge
He learned about different family members and family routines through observations at church and school.
He checked parish records for usable information like was my Dad working and how much did he make. Or who all lived in our house.
He used that information to further a personal relationship with my family.
He showed concern about my grandmother who was staying with us because she was too sick to live alone. He helped my Dad find a job.
He took me to see where he lived without my parents’ knowledge.
He visited us [at our home] because he "happened to be in the area”.
He had me sit with him in a recliner that was too small to hold two people
He kept telling me no one liked me, no one cared for me, my parents did not want me and would not miss me if anything ever happened to me because they had 4 others [children] He did such a good job of convincing me of this, that when I wanted to hug my Mom, I was sure she did not want me. So, I would hug her bath towel. He used my Dad's fits of rage to support his efforts to isolate me.
He infused himself into the of the family. He would, stop by at dinner time and eat with us. He became the “family priest”.
He would take all of us kids out for a ride so Mom could have some quiet time.
P took me to the rectory and wrestled. We played touching games I didn't like and told me, “It’s our little secret.”
He had his own name for me. He always called me "Imp" -- in front of everyone.
With my parents’ permission, he took me to the annual boat shows. We went, but he took me into living space to cuddle and play before taking me home
He took me sailing frequently. Wednesday was his day off. Sometimes with my brothers and sister or friends. Sometimes alone because of “change of plans” my parents did not know about. It was just him and I.
He took me to visit a dentist who was his sailing friend several times.
He took me to the dentist’s summer home in Sherwood Forest. This is something I have very vivid memories of: a. I tried to flush the toilet, but there was no water. P told me the place had been winterized so the pipes would not break. b. We were there to sail the dentist’s boat. But there was no boat. It too had been winterized. c. Some other priests came there for a meeting. I was told to stay in a bedroom and take a nap because I would not understand what they were saying. I thought they we going to speak in Latin like at church.
He took all of us but Dad to have dental care at his dentist/sailing friend’s office.
He had me spend a lot of time at the rectory: a. We would wrestle and have shaving cream battles all throughout rectory. b. I ate breakfast and dinner with the other priests sometimes c. We would take naps in his recliner d. He had glaucoma. He would lay his head in my lap so I could put the drops in his eyes
He took me to visit his niece, parishioners and people I did not know. He showed me off like I was his pet.
Sometimes he would take me to a parishioner's house to spend the night because "it wasn't safe for me at home". I sometimes wonder how he explained that to my parents. I also wonder what was going on that he had me out so late.
He took me hunting along with his Irish Setters. One time he accidentally shot Danny. I never saw either dog after that. This hunting incident is from a "memorie". I actually never remembered his dogs. But, somehow, I still know their names. Mom would mention them ` once in a while and was surprised when I told her I didn’t. remember them. They clearly existed and meant a lot to him. His burial records reflected his affection for them.
25. He arranged for me to help Madge, the housekeeper/cook to help her clean the rectory
26. He took Mom and the rest of us, not Dad because he was at work, to see “The Sound of Music” I was confused about the "intermission".
27. What my parents are not aware of happened more and more often.
28. Intensity of physical, sexual, and violent activity with him increased. Sometimes in the church basement, sometimes where he lived.
29. He would call me an “ungrateful brat” and/or lock me in the boiler room under the church when he got mad at me.
30. One day when I was with him, Sr. H stopped him in the school hallway and told him he should be more careful with me. People were talking. The next time we were alone in his room, he became very angry. “What did you say? You know you’re not supposed to tell anyone anything!” He followed that by threatening to cut out my tongue, cook it and eat it. Like he ate the ox tongue at Housner’s Restaurant.
I became more and more confused and afraid of the once friendly priest who was now hurting me and doing things to me that I did not want him to do.