I was working with a mate of mine, C. This one day he asked me if I would take out his nephew, an 11 year old lad, called G. G wanted to go shooting pigeons. It was one of my favourite pastimes. I said that I would, and so I met G and his mother J.
J was married and had three children, G 11, L, 6, and K,1. I took the lad shooting many times. In fact, I gave G a shotgun when he was, I think, 14 years old. This was the friendship we made. As much as I met G, I met J. Despite the fact that we were both married to other people, J and I spent much time together over the next few years. At that point I have to say that I started treating the three children as my own. To this day, 32 years later, they are still my children. I would die to protect them. I am very proud of them. And yes I do moan about them, but I love them all.
When G was 16, and about to leave school, I asked what he wanted to do. He replied that he wanted to be a gamekeeper. So I advertised in the Shooting Times magazine, and got him a job in Anglesey, North Wales. We went up to Anglesey many times, me J and G. They had become my family, or should I say the family I never had.
Just prior to G leaving for his job I told G and J that I had been abused by a priest in 1961. I didn’t go into details , but I had to tell them. They deserved to know. We are after all, subjects of our history. They deserved to know who and what I am.
Leave a comment | tags: 1961, child abuse, children, family, father james robinson, jimmy robinson, pigeons, rape, secret, sex abuse, sexual abuse, victim, wife | posted in Forever Damaged
I went inside. My mother asked how I enjoyed the ride. I said it was ok. I went upstairs and lay on the bed. What do I do now? I was, and I still am, convinced my mother would not believe me. How could she? She had tea with a trainee priest. She wouldn’t believe me.
Not only was I sexually abused by this man. What he did caused me to doubt my mother, my father, my brothers. How could I say such things about a future priest?
I was 11 years old. I had in my short time met a vicar and a chaplain. But I had never met a priest. What were priests all about? Robinson introduced me to Catholicism and, as I told the Judge 51 years later, “I didn’t like it.”
I was just a lad, nothing special, a nobody, my word against his. I remember thinking to myself, I mustn’t tell anyone because, they would not believe me. And I would get into trouble. I never said a word to anyone, not even my friends. I kept quiet, kept it to myself. After all I had survived this torture.
A couple of days later, after school, I was at home. Robinson came through the back gate. He knocked the back door and walked in, telling my mom, he was going to give Geoff a ride. He did, but not the kind my mother was thinking about. My mother told me to go with him. I didn’t want to, but I did.
We always ended up in Leighs Road, Shelfield, his mother’s house. Although I never met his mother. Did she even exist?
Leave a comment | tags: catholicism, child abuse, confusion, father james robinson, jimmy robinson, leigh's road, rape, ride, secret, sex abuse, sexual abuse, silent, torture | posted in 1961