Note: L>h honors all viewpoints, political, religious, and other. We believe in the freedom to disagree and the power to discuss respectfully, principals that made our country great. I wrote this Letter From The Executive Director, for our 4th Quarter Newsletter, before the Senate hearing involving Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh. The letter was not and is not intended to be political, or to choose a side. We must get past “sides” if we are to end violence. It was just meant to share another personal story I’ve heard and forward Jessie’s mission to end violence against women. The letter sheds some light on a common theme in such stories, delayed reporting. Not political, but very timely and relevant to current events. May all victim/survivors be heard, and may no one be falsely accused.
Dear Friends and Allies,
Well, it happened again.
This time I was trying to get away from the world, recharge my batteries, and head Up North, as we say in Wisconsin, to catch some fish with a lifelong friend.
We left Hartford at 4:00 a.m. and drove due north for five hours, into the heart of the Nicolet National Forest. Seven miles in a dirt road that dead ends at the fabled Brule River. Another half mile deeper on a fire lane accessible only by 4X4, to dad’s 13-acre parcel that was grandfathered into the National Forest in the 1930’s. No cabin. No electricity. No neighbors. Just us, the woods, and the river.
Two days later, fish in the cooler, batteries recharged, heads and hearts clear again, we head home. And then it happens again. After a 250-mile road trip, hours around the campfire, and forty-five years of friendship, you’d think two guys would have heard each other’s stories, right? But my fishing buddy casually asks “Buck, did you know [his sister] was attacked by the football team in high school?”
Now I thought I’d heard all [his] stories. And I thought he had heard all mine. Funny how, when you create a little space, and allow a little silence, and build a little trust, the universe can make something new happen.
[His sister] was in high school. She was riding her bike one day with [Friend A] when [Star X] and his football buddies stopped them. They pulled up [his sister’s] shirt and tried to take it off. Her friend got away.
I said “[buddy] do you think I could ask [his sister] about this? He said he thought that might be OK. So, I private messaged [his sister] the next day. She messaged me right back. I asked if I could ask her about what happened that day. She told me the story, adding that they tried to take her pants off too. Then she laughed out loud and she said, “but I fought them off!”
Why did it take forty-five years for me to hear her story? How did this event change life for her? How did it change how she sees boys and men? Or me? Or herself? How did it limit where she can go, and when, and with who? I wonder these things as I walk freely alone around the trails of our local state park this morning, passing women who are always in pairs or with a big dog.
There are two reasons I’m hearing her story now. First, times are changing. Culture transformation is happening on our watch. The #MeToo movement. You can’t watch national news for two minutes today without hearing about mega stars going to jail for serial date rape and political leaders at the highest levels under fire from multiple accusers. For my entire life such things were not headline news, until the past two years. But we’re at a point in history where more people are sensing that it’s time to talk. And time to change.
Second, because of what happened in my family, to Jessie, I apparently have become someone who people want to share such stories with. That was never true of me before Jessie was raped and killed. I hope ALL of us, including you, become someone who people want to share such stories with.
My buddy’s sister is an honest, strong, fulfilled, successful, happy person. She remains fun and full of life, and still a good friend of mine. She hasn’t been intentionally hiding her story from me all these years. It’s just that an opportunity arose for it to come up, for me to hear about it. Opportunities to hear people’s stories of sexual and physical violence are arising all over the place now. Given the changing times, the change in me, and maybe even the changes in my buddy and his sister, it’s no accident that her story came to me now.
This is the first step in individual and cultural transformation. This is what shining Light in the Darkness looks like. This is the road to a more peaceful and less violent world, a world where we don’t lose our Jessie’s or our innocence for no good reason.
Not an easy road, but …
Let’s walk it. Let’s create a little space for each other, allow a little silence, build a little trust, and see
what arises.
Sincerely,
Buck Blodgett, Executive Director
P.S. I learned a few more details in a second call with [his sister]. First, her dad was hopping mad and ready to call the police. She begged him not to. He finally agreed not to when she told him how humiliated and embarrassed she’d be if everyone was talking about it at school the next day. Second, her brother, my friend, wanted to go “kick their a**es.” She didn’t want him to get hurt. Aren’t these understandable reasons why girls and women often don’t report immediately?
Finally, I asked how old she was. She wasn’t sure. I asked what grade she was in. She didn’t know. But she remembered exactly who did what to her, and her scratches and bruises afterwards. This is how“trauma memories” and peak life moments work. We often don’t remember the ancillary details of something that happened a long time ago. But some of the core pictures are burned into our memories forever. Victim/survivors are often grilled by defense attorneys trying to destroy their credibility.
Doesn’t mean their lying when they can’t recall the “ancillary details”, the things that didn’t matter so much, from 45 years ago. At the end of our second call she asked me if this could hurt her. I couldn’t tell her no, it wouldn’t. I could only thank her for her bravery and say that her story may help the rest of us understand what victim/survivors go through and empower others to find their voices too.
I hope [his sister’s] story sheds some light on “delayed reporting” and “trauma memory”. Those who know her, and her brother, and me, will guess who she is now. Very brave.
