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Married to a Pedophile: Preacher, Husband, Father, Pedophile – What a Mix!

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Today is Sunday, and Sundays always bring my heart a bit closer to God.  I spend time in worship.  I read a lot from God’s word.  I love to reflect on the week that has gone by as well as ask God’s blessings on the week to come.

Today’s meditative thoughts were hard for me.  I’ve had several emails in the past few weeks from people asking me about my faith, my children’s faith, and life in general since finding out that the man I married, the father of my children, was a practicing pedophile all of the days of our almost forty-year marriage.  This walk back through memory lane has been difficult.  I don’t like to spend a lot of time thinking about the past because it stirs up emotions in me that are most often best left to rest.

But, today I’ll share some with you.  I think it’s important for you to know some of what this kind of trauma does to a family.

If you’re new to this blog, I’d suggest that you begin with my first post about being married to a pedophile.  For the most part, I’ve been writing in chronological order so that you can see what life was like living with a man who really was two different people — the awesome, wonderful preacher, father, and beloved community leader AND the man who stalked children, who planned on how to molest them, and who carried out his plans leaving behind a lifetime of hellish trauma for many of those little girls he took as “his own.”

I’m going to answer five questions that have been most often asked of me since beginning this blog.  I know you have many, many more questions, and you can email me your questions to cover at a later time on this blog as we progress with my story about what it was like being married to a man I didn’t know.  Not only being married to a man I didn’t know, but being to a married to a man who committed some of the most heinous crimes known to mankind.

1.  When did you become and Christian and how has the knowledge of who your husband really was affect your faith?

When I was twelve-years-old I was baptized and made a commitment to give my life to Christ.  I was so thankful for the gift of knowing God and my Lord that I wanted every part of my being to live according to the Bible.  That is 99.9% why I married John.  I thought he was “my gift from God.”  “The answer to my prayers.”  “The man God sent to me.”  I prayed daily from before the age of twelve for a Christian husband.

Marriage was a huge disappointment for me almost immediately because I soon realized there was something very wrong with my marriage.  However, I believed the problem was “me.”  I continued to work harder at trying to be a more loving, harder working, more understanding wife in order to be loved more.  Obviously, it didn’t work.  John’s affections and thoughts were elsewhere unknown to me.

What has this knowledge of finding out that the man I married was a child molester done to my faith?  In all honesty, for a while I distanced myself from God.  I couldn’t pray because I didn’t know what to say.  I didn’t want to read the Bible because it didn’t make sense.  I didn’t want to go to church because I lost trust in everyone.  I still believed in God, but I was no longer “sure” of the part God played in my life.

Where am I now in my faith?  I’m climbing back slowly.  I pray many times every day.  I read from God’s word daily.  I don’t understand why God allowed me to marry this man, but I know one thing:  I sure am thankful for the blessings of my children and grandchildren.  Had I not married John I would not have them and I can’t imagine one day without my family!

One thing I find incredibly difficult to do is to set foot back into the building where John preached.  My son Jimmy is the preacher there, and I love him so much, I love his pure heart, and I love having spiritual discussions with him, but………to sit in that building brings on an inner trembling that to date I cannot stop.  For thirty plus years I sat faithfully and listened to John preach from that pulpit.  I believed him.  I honored him.  I respected him.

In truthfulness, it’s just too hard on my heart yet to sit in that same building.  That is a “trauma trigger” for me.  I make no excuses.  It’s just a fact.  It’s going to take some more time.

2.  Did you ever imagine yourself as divorced?

This is a hard one.  Just the other day I was faced with a difficult situation.  I was in a group setting and we were talking about large families and a lady asked, “What kind of job does your husband have?  I can’t imagine how he was able to put food on the table for all of the kids.”  Then, she went on and one talking about how happy I must be to be almost retired with my husband, how much she bets we are looking forward to our golden years together, and on and on.

Obviously, she didn’t know that I’m not married, and that my ex-husband is sitting out the remainder of his life in prison for molesting children.

Instead of answering her, I took the coward’s way out and just nodded and smiled.

It is so hard for me to say, “I am divorced.”  I’ve practiced saying it.  I’ve practiced writing it.  I’ve practiced thinking it.  But, it still doesn’t feel like a good fit.  An even worse fit, though, would be married to the man I thought I knew.  That’s incomprehensible to me!

So, the answer is no.  I never, ever thought I’d be divorced.  In fact, when I said “I do” those words were eternally sealed for me, or so I thought.

My feelings range from feeling like someone who is cheap and used, to being worthless, to being made a mockery, to being stupid……you get the picture.

Every day I have to work on building up my self-esteem.  It’s a slow process.  Sometimes I look in the mirror and mouth the words, “Is this really my life?”

This is a very different life than I planned on having, a very different life that I prayed God would give me, and not one that I’ve settled into yet.  I’m a work in progress.

3.  Do you feel bitter?

That’s an easy one for me to answer.  “No.”  I’m old enough to realize that my blessings far outweigh my pain.  I’m not bitter.  Bitterness accomplishes nothing.  I’m sad.  That’s a better descriptive word of how I feel.  Mostly sad.

4.  Do you worry about your children?

Every minute of every day my children are on my mind.  Their father is in prison which makes them children of a prisoner.  That’s an entirely new role for them.  The pain of finding out about their dad’s double life has been indescribable!  Some of them have had their faith increased by a thousand-fold.  Others of them have a hard time believing there is a God.

Think about it.  This is their father — the man who took care of their physical needs such as a home, clothing, food, doctor’s visits……..and this is the man who was also their spiritual example.  He was their preacher.  He was their Sunday school teacher.  He was their youth group leader.  He was the one who baptized them.

And, now…..he’s the one who sits in prison writing them letters — not begging for forgiveness, but preaching to them about how they must forgive him.  He has shamed them, used them, made a mockery of the position “minister — man of God”, and he has certainly caused pain and confusion like none other.  This was the man they loved with all of their hearts, trusted with all of their minds, and who they went to for guidance and counsel.  He lied.  He deceived.  He cheated.  He molested.  He did evil things.  And, this does terrible things to the hearts and minds of children.  This one man has caused not just his children, but countless others, so much pain!!!!!

If you can’t trust your father, who can you trust?

5.  Do you think about the future?

Yes, I do.  But, not a lot just yet.  I wonder what God has in mind.  Is there a purpose in all of this?  If so, what is that purpose and when will it be revealed?

I mostly take things a day at a time.  This rocked me — knocked me off of my feet — and has left me a bit shaky.  I’m getting stronger each day, but it’s a daily progression.  Little-by-little…….a step at a time.

I worry about facing the future alone.  The kids are all grown and most have families of their own which is wonderful.  But, I wonder what life will be like for me, and then I’m drawn back to the beautiful thought that I’ll leave you with:

“There are no mistakes.” 

I just love that!  I believe that with all of my heart!  I may not see the reason or purpose just yet, but someday I will. Mistakes Thank you for reading.  Thanks so much for learning.  Thanks so much for asking.  Together we will become a strong, unified voice working to create awareness for child abuse and to create a safe place for all children!

If you have other questions you’d like answered in future blog posts, please email me at:  clarahintonspeaker@gmail.com .  If you are in need of a speaker to come talk to your group about how to recognize the red flags of abuse, how to create safe guidelines to prevent abuse, and to hear more of my story, please email me at clarahintonspeaker@gmail.com .

My love to you!

Clara

PS  Next time, we’ll pick up in the ongoing story of recognizing the red flags of child abuse.

Married to a Pedophile: Behind Closed Doors

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I’m writing this with a very mixed bag of emotions.  Who wants to talk to the world about what goes on behind closed doors in their bedroom?  And, who wants to talk about this when family and friends are reading?  I know for a fact that I don’t want to talk about it, but there have been so many questions people have asked me that I feel compelled to write at least a little bit about this topic because it’s so very important to know how a pedophile can love children in an unnatural way, be enamored with them, get totally turned on by them, think about children day and night in sexual ways, go to great lengths to make up master plans to touch them, fondle them, get them to do things to stimulate themselves as well as satisfy the predator, and then eventually cross that line of actually having sex with a child — all the while having a relationship with a wife.

I do not know the “all” of this, nor do I claim to be an expert on this topic.  What I do know is what it was like for me to be married to a practicing pedophile for almost forty years.

If you are new to this blog, I strongly suggest that you begin at the very beginning of my story.  This blog is written in increments that are building blocks of information that will help you piece together the red flags that should have set off an alarm with me, but didn’t.  It is my hope that as you read, you will be able to identify the warning signs so that you don’t have to go through forty years to find answers.

So, what was it like?  What was the sexual part of married life like?  We had eleven children together and people have constantly made comments about what a wild sex life we must have had.  Hmmm…..not hardly.  Not so at all.  In fact, most times if I didn’t initiate sex, there would have been none.

Night after night after night I would go to bed waiting for some kind of physical touch.  I would have loved holding hands.  A kiss goodnight.  A hug.  Anything.  But, part of the control as I understand it now was to make me cry.  To make me want.  To make me feel needy and small and insignificant and unappreciated.  To make me feel unattractive.  Unloved.  Unwanted.  Yes, even in our earliest years of married life together “I” was the one who had to constantly ask for some kind of physical intimacy.  How humiliating to be sharing this!!!

closed doorYou might be wanting to ask a question I get asked frequently.  “Were you a virgin when you got married.”  Yes, I was.  And, John said he was, although now I don’t at all believe that.  I dreamed about my wedding night and how wonderful it would be to present my body to the man of my dreams knowing that he was the one and only man I’d ever given myself to in that  way.  Sadly, the entire episode was over in 5 minutes and I was made to feel cheap and dirty.

Was he pushy?  Sometimes.  I’ll not share on this blog details but there were things that John did to me that made me wonder what was going on.  This was the same man who never had sex with a light on.  Never allowed me in the bathroom with him.  Never would dream of stepping into the bathroom when I was showering.  He acted like he was totally uninterested. At times he acted totally disgusted if he saw me unclothed.  And, he was.  Now, I know and understand that.

I can’t put into words how cheap this made me feel.

I used to listen to some of my friends talking about having to push their husbands away because they wanted sex all of the time.  Not mine.  In fact, on many, many occasions he couldn’t perform even when we’d gone as long as a month or more without any intimacy.  I now know why.  He was fulfilling himself with porn and visions of little children, and later on with groping, touching, fondling and eventually having sex with children.  He didn’t need me or want me.

My heart feels broken all over again — for those precious children who were used and abused.  And, I’m angry that he used me as a way to conceal who he really was — a man who was not interested in adult sex.  That was NOT his turn-on!

Sexual intimacy between husband and wife is a complex means of communication.  Yes, it is a physical fulfillment for both, but it is also an emotional bond of love and a means of saying, “You’re the most special person in this world and the only one that I am willing to share this part of myself with.”  To be denied that type of communication within a marriage hurts to the very core of a person’s heart.

After years and years of “torment”, and this is what the sexual deprivation/demand cycle was for me, I shut down and finally decided to move out of our bedroom.  It was like something inside of me snapped — the final straw.  I don’t know how I mustered the courage, but I finally said “no” to him.  I no longer would lay in bed and cry myself to sleep when he turned his back on me.  I would no longer reach out for him to hold my hand.  I no longer would accommodate him when he wanted to have intimacy (which was very rarely).

And, he was shocked!  We had many arguments the last five years together over this.  I now understand that his control over me was beginning to unravel and I’m sure that was unsettling to him.  I slept on the couch.  Sadly, my heart hardened and I made a promise to myself that no more would I allow him to hurt me in this way.  No more would I beg to be touched.  No more would I cry because I was shoved away.  It’s strangely true that after a while the pain becomes numb.  I stopped feeling.

This part of our lives was over.  BUT, the interesting thing to me was that John loved to tell stories at church that “hinted” how much we were having sex together.  He’d make comments such as, “We had a wild night last night.  Forgive me for such a short sermon.”  Or, “Look out — there just might be another little Hinton on the way.”  He knew it embarrassed me, but he also knew I’d never speak out — I’d never tell about his lies.  Even now part of me feels like a betrayer — that’s just how complete manipulation and control work.

So, what were the red flags?  What should I have seen that I didn’t?

1.  Any husband who loves his wife will communicate with her verbally and sexually.  John refused to do either.  The topic was off-limits.  He did what he wanted, when he wanted and that was that.  Period.

2.  He knew how much this “denial” hurt, yet he continued to do this making me feel humiliated when I asked.  And, I’m not just talking about intercourse.  I’m talking about holding hands, kissing, back rubs — any kind of touching.  He said it made him squeamish and he didn’t like it.  He used a lame excuse that when I touched him he could feel his blood moving through his veins and it gave him the creeps.  So, he didn’t want to be touched.

3.  Once I got pregnant, the sex stopped.  I got pregnant easily, and for John this was a blessing.  If I was pregnant, I felt satisfied.  I had a baby growing inside of me and I wasn’t as interested in intimacy with him.  He knew that.  Pregnancy was a perfect escape for him.  In fact, it was a double whammy.  He had me where he wanted me — at home, and quiet.  I wouldn’t beg him for any type of attention when I was pregnant.

4. He had control.  Sex was when he wanted and no other time.  He did not take me into consideration.  He was in charge, and no matter how much I cried or tried to talk to him about it, he wouldn’t change.  Period.  Total control!

Of course I haven’t shared everything with you.  It’s hard enough sharing this much.  But, people wonder if men who are pedophiles can have sex with a woman.  Yes, they can.  But, I wouldn’t call the sex “making love.”  I’d call it a “chore.”  I’m sure some pedophiles enjoy both women and children — an even more complicated mixed bag. But, the man I was married to made it very clear that I was not the one who satisfied him.  Again, very humiliating!

The bottom line is this:  It’s all about control.  I’ll say it again.  It’s all about control.

If you are in a marriage and you are experiencing similar things “behind closed doors”, please seek counseling.  This isn’t normal.  This really and truly isn’t healthy for a marriage.  Marriage is give and take in all areas of life!

If you are being shoved away by the very one who says he loves you, something is very, very wrong.  If you are belittled time and time again, humiliated, and hurt, something is very wrong.  If there is no verbal communication, generally there is also very poor intimate communication.  You cannot have one without the other.

What does all of this have to do with child abuse?  Truthfully, everything!  Pedophiles use children to fulfill their fantasies.  They often have wives who love and adore them, but they are more interested in scheming, planning,  and grooming children to fulfill their insatiable appetite for children.

Please, if you are in a marriage, and you are experiencing this type of mental, emotional, and physical abuse, get help now!  There is something wrong.  Don’t fool yourself into thinking this is just a passing phase.  I’m not saying all men who push away their wives are pedophiles, but I am saying something is wrong and you need to get help!

I hope this has answered some of your questions, and I pray that some of you have been enlightened.  We need to be on guard at all times!  Don’t allow a predator to come after your child in order to satisfy his unnatural, hurtful, desires for children.  Please take this seriously.  I wish I had been more aware of what a really solid marriage was like — in all areas of life.  Learn from me.  You are beautiful.  You are precious.  You are special.  Nobody should ever have to beg for love.

And, for heaven’s sake, no child should ever be placed in an at-risk situation with a malicious, harmful molester!!!!

Please let’s do all we can to keep our children safe!!! Yes, these things are embarrassing to talk about.  But, for the sake and safety of our children, let’s put our embarrassment aside and bring these things to light.  This is the ONLY way we’re going to stop these predators.  They’re counting on us not talking.  They’re counting on us to continue to keep their lies safely hidden away.

No more!  It’s time to speak the truth for the sake of our children! 

Flowers - BLOG!!!!!!!Thank you for reading and hanging in here with me.  Together, we will make this a safer place for our children!

Love,

Clara

Married to a Pedophile: How I Fell In Love With Bikers!

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Just for today I’m going to skip over a lot of years and take you to that moment in the courtroom when I heard my ex-husband stand before the Judge and plead his case for mercy on HIS behalf.  Rather than fall down on his knees and sob and cry and beg forgiveness for all of the harm he had inflicted on children over the past 45 years while he molested children, he stood before the Judge with calm composure and boldly stated why his sentence should be reduced.  He elaborated why he could be “useful” in the community to help “teach about child molesters” by visiting churches and schools (which just so happen to be two of the biggest places pedophiles find children to molest).

His voice did not waver.  He did not once express his sorrow for all of the wrong his had done and the lifetime of pain his actions caused to many. Instead, he fought for HIS freedom, HIS lesser sentence.

Never will I forget that moment in court.  I had to go to hear it with my own ears.  I had to see him standing there.  I had to hear the words come out of his mouth that he had spent weeks preparing.

I had not prepared myself for the lack of emotion he had for the children he molested.  I was in no way prepared to see him stand tall and speak eloquently on HIS behalf.  That is the moment my broken heart shattered.  His thoughts were about himself — not for the children who had been fondled, touched, groped, raped, manipulated, used, and made to feel afraid, ashamed, and so confused by his actions.

I recorded every bit in my journal that night, but I have not had the courage or strength to revisit that particular day’s thoughts in my journal yet.  It’s far too soon.

Many of you continue to ask me, “What can I do?  What can I do to prevent child abuse?  What can I do to keep our neighborhood, our church, our playgrounds and parks safe?”

The first thing we can do is continue to get educated on the topic of child molestation — most especially continue to read everything you can about how the calculating actions of child molesters work!

Secondly, continue to share this blog.  I am pulling open my heart and spilling out things that are hard — really hard — for me to share.  But, I’m doing it so that I can go to bed every night knowing that I’ve done something to help keep little children safe!  Education is empowerment.  Education brings about change.  Education is the building block on which we will stand and reach out to our children!

Thirdly, I ask you to look for local resources that are cropping up to help in this war against child abuse.  And, believe me, this is a WAR! 

Lastly, let’s play out this courtroom scene a little bit differently.  Let’s change the scene to see how different things could have been.

I wonder how the scene would have changed that day if John had been face-to-face with some of the little children he molested as they pointed out, “It’s him!  It’s him!  He’s the one that did those terrible things to me!”

I wonder how those children’s lives would have changed if there had been a group available for them such is cropping up right now in the United States known as BACA — Bikers Against Child Abuse.  I wonder how big and powerful and mighty pedophiles would feel if they knew that every child they tried to abuse was covered by the love and protection of a family of BACAS!  I just wonder the impact that is already being made in the lives of children by these men who have stepped up to the plate and are being more than a voice — they are being a presence — a PRESENCE in the lives of abused children giving them empowerment and a feeling of worth!

Bikers.  Often misunderstood when they wear their bandanas and rev up the engines of their big, powerful bikes, but look at the good these BACA bikers are doing!  I just wonder how the well-dressed, articulate pedophile who hides under the mask of preacher, priest, teacher, coach, attorney, rich businessman would feel is he knew that standing by every child was a BACA member ready to step in and protect the children!

Following is a 14 minute video, and it’s worth every second of viewing time!  Watch it, please!  Check your area to see if you have a BACA chapter near you.  If you do, call them and ask how you can get involved.  If you are a biker, this is your opportunity to do something that will literally save children’s lives.

Bikers Against Child Abuse want to be the plague to end all child abuse!

Please use this as a resource for your local community!  BACA Bikers — I love you!  We love you!  The children love you!  Thank you for taking action and empowering our children!

Love,

Clara

PS  The next post will revert back to chronological order of following my life while married for almost forty years to a practicing pedophile.  My heart felt compelled to share this BACA information with you today, though.  Let’s keep up the great work and share, share, share these resources!!!!

Thank you Jimmy Hinton for this valuable information!

Married to a Pedophile: Playing in the Dark is Fun!

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Writing about my life is hard.  I don’t like to share some of these details.  And, then something gets to me and I feel like a coward for not sharing, and I know that I must — I absolutely must write more.  The thing that gets to me the most is when I look into the eyes of little children.  I see pure innocence and it about kills me to think of someone taking a child — precious and so trusting of adults — and using these children in harmful ways for their self-gratification.  I get so sick that I want to vomit, and then I get so angry I want to get face-to-face with molesters and inflict pain on them — the same kind of pain they’ve forced on these small children.  I want to hurt them the way they’ve hurt so many children only I want to hurt them worse.

And, then reality sets in and I know that causing pain is never the answer to ending pain.  So, I will continue to educate and pray daily that by sharing some of my story those who read will become empowered and will stop these predators in their tracks! I want to live to see the day when children are protected — properly protected — from the evil hands of molesters!

If you are new to my story, please begin here.  I’ve been writing in chronological order — beginning with the time I met my husband-to-be leading up to the time I found out he was a practicing pedophile for the forty years that we were married — without me knowing it!  I feel like I’ve been lied to, raped, victimized — but most of all I feel like I was used for one purpose — as a cover-up for the horrible things that were being done to little children.  I truly was the perfect enabler and it sickens me.  I don’t ever want another person to be used in this way.  It’s time for us to smarten up, speak up, and keep our children safe!!!

The last time I wrote, I talked about the oddity of my then husband spending so much time in parks when he was supposed to be working.  This week, we’ll expand on that a bit more and talk about his love of planning games for children that involved playing in the dark.  My stomach gets knotted up as I think about how many times he was the “party planner” for the kids’ birthday parties, church parties, camp talent shows, and family church camping trips.  He would buy book after book with party ideas and then study these books for weeks on end.  That is weird in and of itself.  Usually a party is a very uncomplicated thing — cake, ice cream, and having the kids run around and play.

Not so with the man I married!  He planned games that were most often played in the dark.  And, he ALWAYS insisted that he was the one to chaperone!  Keep in mind that most parents don’t want to be bothered with a group of twenty or so rambunctious kids, so they were more than willing to let him have the kids for the night of fun.  Besides that, he was a preacher!  How perfect was that?  Sending your kids off to the preacher’s home for an evening of campfires, night tag, running through the field, scavenger hunts in the dark, and lots of good food.

I will be the first one to admit that there was no way I wanted a house full of kids running around screaming and tearing up the place.  So, when John planned these outside activities I never gave it a thought until………………..

One morning following an overnighter at our home (that included a camp fire and sleeping outside in the woods following a very well planned out scavenger hunt by John) a father of one of the girls that attended was standing at the door.

“Hi!  How are you?”

He didn’t look happy.  He had come early to pick up his daughter.  He asked where they were staying and I pointed to the direction of the path in the woods.  He was kind to me, but firm.  “Sandy (not her real name) won’t be spending the night at your home any more.”

“Is there something wrong that I don’t know about? Did she get hurt?  What happened?  I’ve been inside all night with the other kids and I haven’t gone outside to check on anyone but I know John is with them.”

He looked at me with the strangest look and said, “I just want to take my daughter home.”
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURESAfter all of the children left, John and I sat on the porch and I asked him if anything had happened to this girl during the night.  He sat in silence and looked straight ahead never speaking a word.

“Why did her dad say she’s never allowed to spend the night again?  What happened?”

Silence.  Total silence. He was nodding off to sleep — not an unusual thing for him to do when I was talking to him.  I asked my daughters who also spent the night outside, and they said nothing happened that they knew about.

Odd.  Very, very odd.  But, you know what is more odd?  The fact that I never followed up on this.  I NEVER called this father to ask what happened!  I never asked that little girl what happened!  I never did anything!  How ashamed I am to say that!  I knew something had to have happened, but in my mind I thought maybe she called her dad and got homesick and wanted to go home during the night.  Or maybe she said she had a sick stomach and wanted to go home. I don’t know.  I know kids were in and out of the house during the night using the phone calling parents (which wasn’t out of the ordinary).

I dismissed this entire thing and went on about my business of the day.

After all, these were younger kids on an overnight camp out, and she probably got spooked by something in the woods.  John had carefully planned a scavenger hunt and each kid had glow necklaces to wear in the dark, and the embers of the campfire were burning so that they could find their way through the maze he had cut through the woods.  There were fun treasures hidden along the way for the kids.  They sang by the campfire, told scary stories (as shared with me by my daughters) and everybody that spent the night had a super time!

Everybody had fun except the one girl whose father came early to pick her up.

Bloggy - Night LightsIt wasn’t until about four months after John was arrested for molesting children that I got some insight into this night in the dark.  I received an email (with a fake name) from someone and she just said, “I’m the girl whose father wouldn’t let her stay overnight at your house anymore.  I was afraid to say anything.  I never told your girls.  Ever.  But, I called my dad real early in the morning to come get me.  Mr. Hinton did things to me in the woods.”

I still don’t know exactly who this girl is because there were three other girls who weren’t allowed to spend the night at our home.  I read the email over and over again and each time I shook a bit more.  “Mr. Hinton did things to me in the woods.”

My stomach is sick right now.  I’m sick for the girls and I’m sick because I didn’t do one thing to check into “why” these girls couldn’t spend the night.  I just figured some parents didn’t want their kids doing overnighters and left it at that.  I had no reason to think otherwise — except for a deep down gut feeling that something was wrong.  And, I never acted on my feelings!!!!

Since John’s arrest I have heard from two girls who were fondled, touched, and groped by John in the dark at our home!!!  This was done while many other people were around!  And, not one of the girls spoke up.  Why?  Oh, my goodness, that’s easy to understand.  This was Mr. Hinton — the preacher, the most loved guy in the community.  Who would believe this about him?  Besides, can you imagine the shock of these girls?  Can you imagine the humiliation?  I’m so sorry to be writing these things, and God forbid, please don’t let me be hurting them more than they’ve already been hurt by talking about this.  This is horrible — the horrible truth.  It’s sickening and so wrong.

And, yet it happened.  I’m so, so sorry that this happened.

Please, I ask of you, don’t sit in silence like I did!  Press for answers.  I felt so wrong for questioning John about anything.  I thought it was my Christian duty to believe him — always! He was my husband, my preacher, the man I looked to for guidance and strength.  How wrong I was!  On so many things, I was wrong!  I took him at his word, and his words were so full of lies.

Pedophiles who molest children are liars.  They plan for weeks, months, and sometimes even years on how to corner YOUR CHILD and molest your child right in front of you or other people.  That’s part of their biggest turn-on.  Even when they go all the way and rape a child, the most thrilling part is knowing they are getting away with it with others nearby!

Please listen to me. Please don’t allow your young child to stay overnight with ANYONE — I don’t care who it is!  And, talk to your child constantly about setting boundaries.  Let your child know that if anybody ever tries to cross a boundary that they can tell you and you will believe what they say!  Let your child know you are the one they can come to with anything and you will take care of them.  Do everything in your power to keep your child safe.

And, please don’t think about hurting someone’s feelings.  You have no idea how I wish that the dad who stood on my porch would have told me that something had happened to his daughter in the woods that night.  I’m sure he didn’t want to embarrass me or cause any kind of family problems. But, I wish so much he had shared with me the fact that something happened.

Pedophiles are counting on our silence!  They want us to be embarrassed!  They’re so sure we won’t talk that they continue to molest time and time again, and it’s time for it to stop!  Please, for the sake of our children, it’s time to stop being embarrassed and begin speaking openly and plainly about what child molesters do.  They put their hands down little children’s pants.  They touch their breasts.  They fondle on the outside of their clothing and tell a child how good this is supposed to feel.  They use different methods of keeping children quiet.  They scare them.  They make them feel ashamed.  They tell them their mom or dad will never believe them.  They manipulate their young, innocent minds. They confuse them and hurt them.  They make them do terrible things for their own sexual and mental gratification, and it’s so wrong! It’s terribly wrong!!!

No more!  It’s time for it to stop!  Please help me be a voice for these children!  Help me in this fight to stop child predators in their tracks!  It’s time to make them back off into a corner and let them feel afraid, trapped, and so scared they go running!

Thank you for reading this blog.  Thank you for sharing this information.  And, thank you for caring enough to speak out for our children!
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If you are in need of a speaker for your church group, concerned group of parents, PTA, school administrators, or others, please email me at clarahintonspeaker@gmail.com .  It’s time to get the message out — for the sake of our children!

Again, thanks so much for reading this and for sharing with others.  The more we share, the more parents will understand how predators work.  And, the more educated we become the more empowered we are and the safer our children will be!

Love,

Clara

Married to a Pedophile: The Fascination of Parks and Playgrounds!

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Admittedly, I’ve taken some time off from this blog because it’s been too hard to “go there” in my thoughts on most days.  This is the Christmas season, and I want to be happy and in a celebratory mood — not dwelling on the past and all of the ugliness associated with being married for years and years to a practicing pedophile.  I still have days when it’s hard to believe.

This week, though, I find it necessary to pull up some memories that caused huge red flags for me.  I got angry.  I was frustrated.  I just didn’t understand the man I was married to and some days it about drove me crazy!  There were many, many “park and playground” incidences that I can recall — and I do mean many — but I’ll only share one week of these questionable moments with you.  Slowly but surely the pieces are all beginning to fit together.  And, the more pieces of this horrid puzzle that fall into place, the more sick my stomach becomes.

If you are new to this blog, please begin reading here.  This blog is very quick reading — it’s written in story form so that you can follow along and learn with me what these “red flags” were all during our forty years of marriage and understand why I never acted on them.  At the time these events were taking place, I didn’t even know what the word “pedophile” meant, let alone suspect that my husband was molesting children!

John traveled most days working the insurance job.  It was not unusual for him to leave in the morning around 9:00 a.m. and not return until midnight when he was traveling to places that were two and three hours away.  Honestly, I never did understand why he put himself under such pressure.  We needed supplemental income, but he said to me, “I’ll never work a time clock!  Never!  I’ll be my own boss, set my own hours, and that’s how it will be.”

And, that’s just how he seemed happiest — he made his own appointments and off he went.  Sometimes for a day, many times for a week at a time.  I hated it that way, but he was a great salesman, made good money, and got to be his own boss, and even though there was terrible stress with a commission only job, he still said he’d never work for an hourly wage job.

I was laying in bed last night thinking about one particular week when his behavior was more odd than usual.  He was stalling downstairs in his office (supposedly making appointments for the day), but when he came upstairs to leave it would be around ten o’clock or later which didn’t give him much of a work day at all considering he had to travel two hours one day.

By this time, we had a family of eight children — they were born pretty much one right after the other.  And, yes, we did plan on having a large family — a question I still get asked to this day.  This particular week, I got a frantic call from John one afternoon.  “Clara, I need you to come get me.  I’m stuck in some deep mud in a park.  The more I tried to get out of this mess, the worse I dug my tires into this muck.”

“Where are you calling from?  If you’re stuck, how do you have a phone?”

He was calling from a police car!  The police were patrolling the park, and found John there and went up to him and asked him what he was doing.  He said he was eating his lunch and preparing for his Sunday sermon while on lunch break.

“So what am I supposed to do?!?!”

He said, “Come get me.  I’ll be at the police station.  The car will have to be towed.”

I was furious!  Absolutely furious!  This meant packing up all 8 kids into the station wagon and driving two hours one-way to pick him up, paying for the cost of the gas, Turnpike tolls, and a towing fee!  All because he drove into some park and got stuck in the deep mud!

This didn’t make sense then, but it sure does now!

I was not a happy camper over this, but his story sounded convincing enough and thankfully the car was okay.  It was towed out of there, John got a fine (I’m still not sure why), and his car was ready for the road in a day.

Two days later I was rocking one of the kids to sleep for his nap and I got another frantic call from John.

“You’re not going to believe this.  I was eating my lunch when I spotted a deer.  I got out of the car to follow the deer tracks and when I went to leave I realized I locked my car keys inside of the car.  I walked to the main road and hitched a ride to the nearest telephone.  Can you come get me with the spare key?”

“You have got to be kidding me!” I screamed!  Where are you?”

“I’m in the same park where I was stuck on Monday. I was eating lunch planning out the rest of the day when I saw the deer.”

Honestly, I was seeing red!  “Why were you in the park?!?!?!?!”

“Because I like to eat in private and I like to get out and stretch my legs after sitting for two hours driving.”

So, I packed up the kids again, and off we went.  This time I actually got to see where the car was.  It was deep into a park right outside of Mars, Pennsylvania.  Interestingly, it was located next to the little playground and the restrooms.  Odd, I thought.  There were beautiful spots where you could see the lake, but he was parked by the latrines and the swings for kids.

We rode home in silence.  I was angry about this happening two times in one week.  Irresponsible at the very least.  And, very strange if you ask me.  I usually backed down in an argument, but not this time.  I wanted to know what the fascination was with driving into parks for lunch breaks.  John often told me he took naps in parks when he got tired from driving.  He ate his lunches among nature because that inspired him.  He got out to stretch his legs.  Or, he needed to use a bathroom and didn’t know where else to stop.  Why did he drive all of those miles and spend so much time away from home sitting in parks?  He was supposed to be making calls to clients!!!

I fell for his lies hook, line and sinker.  Again, and again, I fell for the lies!

Red flag number one:  Why would a policeman ask you to leave a public park if you’re not suspect to something? It didn’t click with me at all.  If you’re minding your business, eating lunch, you’re breaking no rules at all in a public park.  BUT — if you’re stalking little children on a playground, you will be asked to leave!  When John was arrested two years ago, guess where he was taking children?  To parks!  Parks and playgrounds are hangouts for pedophiles! 

Red flag number two:  Why did John go back to the very same park two days after he got into trouble there?  That didn’t make any sense at all to me.  BUT — if you’ve found a special child that you’ve been watching for days  on end, you’ll go back and study that child some more.  You’ll get out of your car, walk over to that child and talk to that child.  You’ll make friends. You’ll take pictures of that child.  Why?  Because that’s just exactly how pedophiles who molest gain the trust of children!  I urge you to read “Not With My Child.”  That book will enlighten you!

Red flag number three:  John was always very secretive about “his car.”  I was rarely allowed to drive it, and if I did, he always had to empty out boxes from the trunk of his car before I was allowed to drive the car.  He called it his “office on wheels.”  Granted he did have boxes of insurance forms and papers in the trunk, but he also had all kinds of other things.  When his car had to be towed from the park, he was very anxious to get back to the car to “get some things.”  He walked all the way back into the park to his car to get his bag of “stuff” rather than let it sit there in the car while the car was towed back to town.  What was in there that was so special??  I would later find out, and it wasn’t pretty!  (I’ll save this for another blog.)

Pedophiles who molest children often use parks and playgrounds as their hangouts.  John used parks and playgrounds as his hangouts.  Why?  Children are always there, and they wear bathing suits, and shorts, and they pull their pants down when they go to the bathroom exposing themselves.  Pedophiles who are looking for arousal can easily go into the restroom with young boys and get quite a show without the children ever knowing it.  And, sadly, many parents will not watch their children at parks and will allow them to use the restroom alone.  Pedophiles have easy access to peeking inside and watching these children.

My heart feels sick.  One of the very first letters John wrote me when he was in Israel before we got married included details about how he hid behind the bushes and watched the young girls change out of their clothes into their swimsuits.  Many times they swam nude.  I cried when I read the letters because I thought it was so hurtful to tell me he was doing this while we were engaged.  Now I cry because I know exactly what he was doing and why.

Parents beware!  Please, please keep your children under your careful eyes at all times — especially at camps, playgrounds, and parks where others have easy access to watching your children, taking photos of your children, and getting close to your children and touching them where they should NEVER be touched!!!

We are too lax in our thinking — far too naïve in our thinking so many times.  I was completely naïve and couldn’t put the pieces of this very odd behavior together until many, many children had been harmed.

Children are innocent.  If someone says, “Pull down your pants and I’ll help you go to the bathroom”, they’ll let you do it.  If a trustworthy looking adult offers you a bag of chips and a soda and then says, “Let me help you change out of your swimsuit and you can be all ready to go home when mommy comes up from the lake”, they’ll allow it.  That’s when the very trained fingers of a pedophile go to work!  I’m not mincing words because this is serious business.

Our children are precious!  Let’s do all we can to keep them safe.  Please, let’s make it impossible for molesters to get to our children.  Set safe boundaries for your children and don’t get lazy with enforcing those boundaries — ever!

Thank you for sticking with me.  Thank you for reading and sharing.  Thank you for doing your part to keep our children safe! Thank you for helping me warn others of the dangers that are often waiting for them in the most innocent of places!

Who is the molester?  I’ll say it again and again.  The molester is not the creepy guy with matted hair, smelly clothes, and dirt under his fingernails.  He is the preacher, the teacher, the gym coach, the salesman, the businessman, the attorney, the Sunday school teacher.  He’s anyone!  Keep your eyes and ears open at all times.  For the sake of the children, please stay alert!

Love,

Clara