The Trial

Going to trial was a very difficult and emotional experience but it was also a day of great healing for me in dealing with my abuse. It was hard coming to the decision to press charges against my grandfather, a decision that came after many hours of praying, crying, and making sure it was what God wanted me to do.

 

I started to consider pressing charges against my grandfather at the end of January in 2002. It had been a year and a half since I stopped counseling, convinced that I was ‘healed’ and didn’t need weekly counseling sessions anymore. Boy, was I wrong! So I started to meet with a new counselor, an associate/youth pastor from a church where I lived. I was intrigued at the idea of working with a counselor that was a Christian since my first counselor was not. She was very respectful of my faith but didn’t share my beliefs and came from a very worldly perspective when it came to counseling.

 

During my first session with Dale, I found out he was a retired police officer. He asked why charges weren’t filed back when I was ten and first told about the abuse. I told him I honestly didn’t know, that I always thought it was because my dad didn’t want to press charges against his father. Dale asked if it was okay for him to get in touch with the detective who had handled my case and see if he could find out any new information and I said yes. My own attempts at finding out the reason why charges were never filed had gotten me nowhere and I was more than willing to let someone with a law enforcement background see if he could find out any information. He made some phone calls and when we met about a week later, I was shocked by what he had found out.

 

Dale was able to talk with the detective who was assigned to my case back in 1991. The detective shared with Dale some details from the statement my grandfather made to the police shortly after I told about the abuse. I later received a paper copy of that statement and the truths that my grandfather admitted to in it shook me to my very core. My grandfather admitted that he had abused his own children when they were little although not to the extent that he abused me. I can still remember sitting in Dale’s office that morning as he said those words and I realized for the first time that I was not my grandfather’s only victim. I know that most sexual predators have more than one victim, usually there are several, but there are also those rare instances where the perpetrator only has one victim. Because no one else had come forward between when I told and 11 years later as I was dealing with the abuse, I believed my situation was one of those rare instances. Finding out I was not the only one my grandfather had abused found me facing one of the greatest challenges of my life.

 

Once I found out that I was not my grandfather’s only victim, I seriously began to consider pressing charges against him. Once I knew that he had abused others, I knew the chances were great that he would abuse again if he hadn’t already. That’s when I truly realized what a vicious cycle sexual abuse is. Kept hidden, it can go on for years and years leaving many, many victims in its path. I wanted the people in my grandfather’s neighborhood to know what my grandfather had done and what he was capable of so they could do whatever they needed to keep their children safe. I wanted him to have to register as a sex offender in his community. I found out that the only way he would have to register is if he was found guilty of a sex crime. Since I was the only person who had come forward saying that he had abused me, I believed that responsibility fell on my shoulders. I knew I needed to do whatever I could to make sure he would never abuse another child.

 

But it would be a few months of struggling before I made the decision to press charges. I struggled a lot with whether or not pressing charges was what God wanted me to do. God tells us not to seek revenge on those who have hurt us and trust that He will avenge us in His time and in His way. The question I kept asking myself was, “If I press charges, am I telling God that I don’t trust Him to make my grandfather face the consequences for what he did? Am I taking that power out of His hands and playing ‘God’”? During those months I really prayed, searched my heart, sought godly counsel, and asked God what He would have me to do, and I realized that my motives were pure. I wasn’t seeking to make my grandfather ‘pay’ for what he had done to me, I wasn’t wanting to punish him at all. I just wanted the peace of knowing that I had done everything I could to protect other children from what I knew he could do.

 

So in May of that year, I made the decision to go ahead and press charges. One of the first, and hardest, steps I had to take was telling my dad. I wanted him to be aware of all that would happen in the upcoming months and most of all, I needed his support. He assured me that he would do whatever I needed him to as I went through the process and that was comforting. I knew I would definitely not have the support of anyone else from my dad’s side of the family so having his support was very important for me.

 

The next step was to go down to Rock Springs and talk with the detective originally assigned to my case and the county attorney who would be handling my case. That is also when I first met the victim’s advocate, an older woman named Sally, whose job was to keep me updated on the process and answer any questions I had as well as be an emotional support through it all. My dad made the trip with me and once we got to the county attorney’s building, we met with everyone in a conference room. We made small talk for a few minutes and then began to talk about my case. The detective said that he had always remembered my case, even after all those years, and I finally learned the reason why charges had never been filed when I told at ten. My dad said that he didn’t want me to have to go through the ordeal of going to trial and all it might entail so he didn’t pursue that option and the detective said that without the support of my dad, they didn’t think the case would get anywhere. While it was a relief to finally know why nothing had ever happened, it also made me sad to know that because my dad made the decision not to pursue it when I was younger, I had to do it now, 11 years later. But I can understand his desire to protect his little girl from having to go through the ordeal of a trial especially after just learning that his own father had abused her for so long.

 

Dale had told me what to expect during the meeting and things went pretty much the way he said they would. They wanted to know my reasons for wanting to press charges so long after it had happened and I explained about wanting him to have to register as a sex offender so that I would know I had done all I could do to protect the children around him. They also wanted to make sure I would stay committed to the process if the case went to trial. I assured them that I was definitely up for it and that I was ready to do whatever they needed me to do. Dale had told me that there was the possibility I would have to give another detailed statement that afternoon and I was very up front in saying that if they needed that from me, I was ready to do it. They said that the detail I had provided in the initial statement was enough to go on. The next step was for them to draw up the charges against my grandfather and give them to a judge who would then sign a warrant for his arrest. They told me that if my grandfather cooperated, the whole process would be over pretty quickly but if he fought it at all, we would go to trial.

 

One thing that sticks out in my mind about that meeting with the detective and the attorney was how they were so ‘matter-of-fact’ about everything. The attorney wanted to make sure that he had all the information he needed and wanted to make sure about the extent of the abuse. When he listed the things that the abuse entailed (oral sex, touching, fondling) he said it with absolutely no emotion, like he was reading off the ingredients on the back of a cereal box. There was no emotion in his voice, in his face, or in his attitude. I know he had probably seen several cases like mine and many even worse, but it was hard trusting those details of my experience with someone who seemed to be so calloused to it all. It made me realize how comfortable our society has become when it comes to sexual abuse, it’s like it has lost its ‘shock value’ so to speak. People are so used to hearing it in the news every day and on TV that it’s not as big of a deal as it should be. It saddens me to think we live in a society that has become so comfortable with the issue of sexual abuse.

 

After that meeting, the waiting game began. Sally, the victim’s advocate, and I were in touch weekly to discuss what was going on with the case. The charges were drawn up and he was charged with 2^nd degree sexual assault and indecencies with a minor. He was arrested and would be coming back to Wyoming (he had since moved to Arizona) during July for his arraignment. It was a relief to know that part of it all was over. I had originally thought I didn’t want to be there when he was arraigned, and the attorney had made it clear that it was my choice as to whether or not to be there. But the more I thought about it, I realized I needed to be there…I needed that sense of closure. So I began to wait for the details to be finalized and for word of the exact date to be decided.

 

July 10^th was the big day. I had been praying and asking God to show me who I should take with me for support and I ended up taking my friend Cheryl because I knew I couldn’t face it on my own. I didn’t want to take my dad because he was so emotionally involved in the whole situation and I wanted someone who would be more objective but be supportive of me at the same time. God couldn’t have laid a better person upon my heart. Cheryl was absolutely wonderful that day. The drive was about two hours and once we got there, Cheryl and I met with Sally so she could brief me about all that was going to happen. The first thing that would happen was that my grandfather would appear before the county judge so he could be read his charges and enter his plea. Cheryl and I walked upstairs to the courtroom and as we turned the final corner before entering, I saw my grandma and two aunts and uncle heading into the courtroom and I stopped short. Even though I expected them to be there, it was such a shock to see them. We waited a few minutes to enter the courtroom so that I wouldn’t find myself in any kind of position where I would have to talk to them. Right as Sally opened the door to the courtroom, I looked back at Cheryl and whispered, “Will you hold my hand?” She took my hand and we followed Sally into the courtroom. I will never, for as long as I live, forget that moment and what I saw when I entered the courtroom. Sitting on the side of the defense, in support of my grandfather, were the relatives I had seen minutes earlier – my grandma, my dad’s sister and her husband and my dad’s youngest brother’s wife. In front of them sat my grandfather and my dad’s youngest brother who was sitting in as his counsel since my grandfather chose not to have a lawyer. Sitting on the side of the prosecution, in support of me, was absolutely no one…not one single person. To me, it was such a deafening portrayal of how my family really felt about all that had happened. I know it was never about choosing sides – mine or my grandfather’s – but that day I realized once and for all that my family had chosen to stand behind my grandfather and not me.

 

Cheryl and I walked up and sat down in the front row with Sally. Once the proceedings got started, one of the first things to happen was that my attorney requested that my grandfather not be able to have any contact with me, verbal or otherwise, that day. We had not discussed that previously but it was such a relief for me to know I didn’t have to worry about being confronted by him. The judge read through the charges, including what my grandfather had done to me in specific detail. I felt so incredibly vulnerable and I wanted so badly to reach over and put my hands over Cheryl’s ears. For me, there is still so much shame in what was actually done to my body, and what I was forced to do, and I didn’t want Cheryl to hear those things about me. It was so hard to just sit there and listen to the judge read off such personal and intimate details of my experience. Then the judge asked my grandfather how he pled. My grandfather answered, “Guilty.” Cheryl squeezed my hand at that moment and I felt a sense of victory. Finally, my grandfather had said out loud that what he did was wrong. In the years since I told, my grandfather had never apologized without giving a list of excuses to try and justify why he did what he did. My family had even tried to justify his behavior time and time again. It was such a relief to hear that even if my grandfather and my family didn’t realize just how wrong what he did was, the justice system was saying loud and clear that it was WRONG! Once he pled guilty, the proceedings for that part of the trial were over. During that entire process, Sally kept whispering comments to me about how upset my grandparents were and what a hard time they were having with all of it. I was so irritated with her saying those things! Here I was trying not to throw up and she was focused on how all this was affecting them! So that wasn’t helpful at all.

 

The next step was to wait while my attorney took the papers over to the district judge (about ten minutes away) to see if we could do the sentencing phase that day. While we waited, Cheryl and I sat on a blanket out on the lawn and just enjoyed the sunshine and the birds singing around us. It was so relaxing and just what I needed. The attorney came back and said that the judge would see us that afternoon so Cheryl and I had a quick lunch and then headed over to the district courthouse. Once inside the courtroom, we had a long wait before things got started. At one point, Cheryl and I got up and left the room because I couldn’t sit there anymore. My grandma and all the other relatives were in the room and the tension was unbearable for me. As we were standing out in the hallway, my dad’s youngest brother’s wife came over and gave me a hug and said she was so proud of me for what I was doing. I let her hug me but in my mind, her actions and words weren’t matching up. She was there in support of my grandfather with everyone else and yet she was proud of me? It didn’t make sense to me.

 

Eventually we went back into the courtroom and the proceedings began. Sally had asked me beforehand if I wanted to give a victim’s impact statement and I agreed so that was one of the first things to happen. I went to the podium in the middle of the courtroom and gave a very simple statement. I said, “I just want everyone, including my family (at that point I turned around and looked at them) to know that I’m not doing this to get back at my grandfather or to get revenge. I’m just doing this so I can know that I did everything I could to protect other children from being hurt.” Even though I knew it wouldn’t make a difference with my family, I still wanted everyone to know I wasn’t putting my grandfather through all of that to make him pay for what he had done to me. Then the judge sentenced my grandfather to 5 years probation, under which he couldn’t be around anyone under the age of 18, told him he had to register as a sex offender when he got back to Arizona and that he had to pay a fine. Then it was over and before I knew it, Cheryl and I were back in the car and on the way home.

 

I cried most of the way home…tears of relief because it was finally over and tears of sadness because of my family’s reaction to it all. The fact that they were there to support my grandfather hurt me more than anything. Overall, it was a very good day. It was a day of great healing and closure for me. Even though it was the hardest day of my life up to this point, and the months leading up to it were very difficult, I will always thank God for giving me the courage and the strength to follow through with it. He is such a faithful and loving God!