Nobody has been able to avoid the stories of Jerry Sandusky and the awful things that took place thanks to the sick mind of Penn State's ex-coach. As the story has unfolded, the tales of these atrocities seem to go back further and further. Apparently, as many as seven people knew of these atrocities and didn't do anything. The real argument seems to be whether or not the men who did nothing committed a crime and should have their lives ruined. As it stands now, the only person who has maintained their job is the man who actually walked in and saw what Coach Sandusky had done to the child. He was even going to coach, but has received enough death threats to scare him away.
I am not going to defend or persecute anyone. I have been a Penn State fan for nearly 30 years and Joe Paterno was a hero of mine. He is an icon. He stood for everything that was great about college athletics. Or so it appeared. The latest public revelation of awful crimes against kids have gotten my mind working about things that have happened in my past. How I reacted to people I've come in contact with, or almost did. Thoughts of rage and anger brought back by people I don't know.
When I was a young child, I grabbed a friend as she was entering the back seat of a stranger's car. At seven, I knew better than to trust those I didn't know. I was so scared when this happened. Years later it never leaves my mind that had I walked out of the school five seconds later, my friend would most likely be gone.
In fifth or sixth grade I saw bruises on a friends back. I asked him what happened and he said he fell. I saw hand marks and what looked like a belt mark. I ended up going to the school nurse and telling her. She told me I was probably wrong and if he said he fell, he probably fell. I then walked into the head of the school's office and told them I needed to tell them something. When they asked me why I didn't go directly to the head of the middle school, I had to tell them the hardest thing I had ever said, "because it's his son!"
I played in a park while in 8th grade when a man entered the park and started talking to some younger girls. I pointed this out to a few friends and we walked over. We asked the man why he was talking to our friends. He said he was making a movie and needed some kids for the movie. While we talked to him, a few other friends who had gone to get a teacher, started to walk over. The guy saw our teachers and ran away.
When I was about twenty, I was sitting on the couch watching TV, when my brother came upstairs and said that there was a man talking to kids in the park. My brother and his friends were about 9-10 years old. I asked him if there were other parents in the park. The kids all told me they had told some of the parents and they disregarded it. I asked what he said and they told me he wanted them to come with him and he was going to take some pictures. He was going to pay them. I grabbed a baseball bat and ran down to the park. The guy saw me and took off. Thankfully for him and probably in some ways for me, I am not very fast. I chased him for nearly two miles. Ironically I lost him at my brother's school, when he took off into the woods.
I was in my twenties when guy a few years older than me was arrested for sexually abusing his friend's kid. I knew her, but wasn't friends with her. I did however know her sister and some of her friends. She was in the bar. I walked over to him and told him to leave. He resisted and me and another escorted him out. I was livid and was enraged and I grabbed him and threw him against a wall. In a moment I will never forget, the woman whose child was molested ran out and asked us to stop. I will never forget it. She knew, but he was a friend. She forgave him. I left the bar and walked home that night. I didn't know what to make of it. I still don't.
I know people who were sexually and physically abused as kids. I know people who were sexually and physically abused as adults. I don't know what that is like, but I do know that while they have gotten over the physical pain, the emotional scars have molded some of their behaviors. They never trust like other people, because most of the time, these horrible acts were committed by someone they knew; someone they trusted. The victims of the Penn State scandal are listed as numbers. They are faceless victims, whose lives have been ruined. I can't imagine the fear they felt when they were molested. The trust that was broken. I know what it is like to be betrayed. I know that pain, but that is nothing. They say, time heals all wounds. I;d like to believe that is true, but can't imagine that any of Sandusky's victims will ever completely heal from what they've experienced, because I know people who have gone through it and they are never fully healed, because they can never fully forget.
If nothing else, I hope people learn from this tragedy. Learn that we can never assume someone else will take care of any situation. If nothing else, I hope one person who might have seen something terrible steps forward. Just imagine, if one person stepped forward and told the police, as few as eight children would not have been molested. If this could have been avoided, even once, it would be worth it. I know what I would have done in the same situation and I do know that it wouldn't have been the story that was buried.
I am not going to defend or persecute anyone. I have been a Penn State fan for nearly 30 years and Joe Paterno was a hero of mine. He is an icon. He stood for everything that was great about college athletics. Or so it appeared. The latest public revelation of awful crimes against kids have gotten my mind working about things that have happened in my past. How I reacted to people I've come in contact with, or almost did. Thoughts of rage and anger brought back by people I don't know.
When I was a young child, I grabbed a friend as she was entering the back seat of a stranger's car. At seven, I knew better than to trust those I didn't know. I was so scared when this happened. Years later it never leaves my mind that had I walked out of the school five seconds later, my friend would most likely be gone.
In fifth or sixth grade I saw bruises on a friends back. I asked him what happened and he said he fell. I saw hand marks and what looked like a belt mark. I ended up going to the school nurse and telling her. She told me I was probably wrong and if he said he fell, he probably fell. I then walked into the head of the school's office and told them I needed to tell them something. When they asked me why I didn't go directly to the head of the middle school, I had to tell them the hardest thing I had ever said, "because it's his son!"
I played in a park while in 8th grade when a man entered the park and started talking to some younger girls. I pointed this out to a few friends and we walked over. We asked the man why he was talking to our friends. He said he was making a movie and needed some kids for the movie. While we talked to him, a few other friends who had gone to get a teacher, started to walk over. The guy saw our teachers and ran away.
When I was about twenty, I was sitting on the couch watching TV, when my brother came upstairs and said that there was a man talking to kids in the park. My brother and his friends were about 9-10 years old. I asked him if there were other parents in the park. The kids all told me they had told some of the parents and they disregarded it. I asked what he said and they told me he wanted them to come with him and he was going to take some pictures. He was going to pay them. I grabbed a baseball bat and ran down to the park. The guy saw me and took off. Thankfully for him and probably in some ways for me, I am not very fast. I chased him for nearly two miles. Ironically I lost him at my brother's school, when he took off into the woods.
I was in my twenties when guy a few years older than me was arrested for sexually abusing his friend's kid. I knew her, but wasn't friends with her. I did however know her sister and some of her friends. She was in the bar. I walked over to him and told him to leave. He resisted and me and another escorted him out. I was livid and was enraged and I grabbed him and threw him against a wall. In a moment I will never forget, the woman whose child was molested ran out and asked us to stop. I will never forget it. She knew, but he was a friend. She forgave him. I left the bar and walked home that night. I didn't know what to make of it. I still don't.
I know people who were sexually and physically abused as kids. I know people who were sexually and physically abused as adults. I don't know what that is like, but I do know that while they have gotten over the physical pain, the emotional scars have molded some of their behaviors. They never trust like other people, because most of the time, these horrible acts were committed by someone they knew; someone they trusted. The victims of the Penn State scandal are listed as numbers. They are faceless victims, whose lives have been ruined. I can't imagine the fear they felt when they were molested. The trust that was broken. I know what it is like to be betrayed. I know that pain, but that is nothing. They say, time heals all wounds. I;d like to believe that is true, but can't imagine that any of Sandusky's victims will ever completely heal from what they've experienced, because I know people who have gone through it and they are never fully healed, because they can never fully forget.
If nothing else, I hope people learn from this tragedy. Learn that we can never assume someone else will take care of any situation. If nothing else, I hope one person who might have seen something terrible steps forward. Just imagine, if one person stepped forward and told the police, as few as eight children would not have been molested. If this could have been avoided, even once, it would be worth it. I know what I would have done in the same situation and I do know that it wouldn't have been the story that was buried.
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