Anonymous Story: Abused at 11 and Raped at 26

Anonymous Story: Abused at 11 and Raped at 26

In 1956, when I was 11, living in Fresno, Ca., the summer was hot and a neighbor had a pool in his back yard for his young son. Two of my girlfriends in the neighborhood and I all went to his house to cool off in his pool, then watch the Mickey Mouse Club. My parents both worked days, and after school, sometimes, we girls would play at his house and swim in his pool. I remember him carrying me out to toss me into the pool with his finger making it’s way under the bottom of my bathing suit into my private parts. I didn’t like it but didn’t say anything, thinking it was coincidence.  We all liked to watch the TV and he would take one or the other of us onto his lap. When I sat on his lap his finger would eventually find it’s way under my clothes and into my private parts. This was uncomfortable, but I wanted to swim in his pool and watch TV until my parents came home from work. One day, while watching the Mickey Mouse Club, this married school teacher took me aside, down the hall, and into a bedroom, saying he wanted to show me something. Being naive, I didn’t expect anything bad. He had me sit on the edge of the bed and said that this was really good and that I’d like it. He slid me panties down my legs and proceeded to lick my private parts. I didn’t know what to think. It did feel very stimulating, but it seemed wrong. I didn’t say anything to my parents and went on as before. The next time he tried to take me down the hall, I balked and went home. A few weeks later, my parents took me for a ride. It was to the court house and I was talked to by a nice lady. I had to tell her what had happened and I was so afraid and scared to have to tell about this. I told about my girlfriends who had also been interviewed, and found out that one girl had told her sister who told her mother. That brought the whole thing out. I felt so guilty and like I had done something wrong. There was a trial that I had to testify at and that seemed to be the worst part of the whole thing. His family and all were sitting there listening to me. I was only 11 and felt so humiliated. He was arrested, convicted and went to prison. He lost his job and wife and kids, but I will never remember that trial.

Then in 1965, I tuned in, turned on and dropped out. Just before quitting my job. I was working for the telephone company in San Jose, CA. I wore makeup, stylish clothes, a beautiful black wig. I was a doll. One night after work, (I worked swing shift, 4 to midnight), I went out to a nightclub to drink and listen to the jazz. I was a pot smoker by this time and was high. The drummer in the bank was friendly and told me about an after-hours session that he was going to in San Francisco when they were done playing there. He wanted me to go with him, but I insisted on taking my own car. So I followed him up to the city. He went to an industrial area and stopped by one building. There were no other cars on this street. It was about 3 AM. I asked why he was stopping there. He said he had some pot inside and that we should get stoned before going to the session. Being so naive, I went right in. I was so truthful and good, I couldn’t even imaging anyone trying to hurt me. We did smoke a joint, then he came on to me in a big way. I resisted then he hit me, knocking my glasses off. He put them in his pocket and told me he was going to lick my body from one end to the other. I was scared. I had my keys in my hand as he grabbed  me and started kissing me. I almost stabbed the corkscrew part of my key chain into his back, but I knew that if I hurt him, he would kill me. I prayed and asked Mother Devine what to do. Well, if this was someone I really liked, I’d gladly submit to intercourse. So just because I don’t know this man, what he wants to do with me is not so terrible. Just relax and get out of the situation alive. So I submitted to him and told him how great he was, how much I liked it and wondered if I could be his girl. I was hoping he would be so flattered that I’d get a chance to escape. And that’s exactly what happened. As he was getting dressed, I grabbed my keys and raced out the door. I could see a cop car driving down the street and chased after it flashing my bright lights and honking my horn. It took me a few blocks to get them to stop, like they didn’t notice me behind them. But I told them my story and was led to some department where I gave my statement and was tested for intercourse. I told them exactly where this happened and who the guy was, but they didn’t seem to care much. I was so scared that I might get pregnant, I went back home to San Jose and cleaned myself as good as I could. Nothing ever came of it and I did not get pregnant.



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