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

Posted on January 12, 2014 by Clara Hinton

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. 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: Playing in the Dark is Fun!

Posted on December 9, 2013 by Clara Hinton

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.”
After 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.

It 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!

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 Camp Jokester Hiding in the Dark!

Posted on September 27, 2013 by Clara Hinton

Every now and then I remember an event in my life that literally sends shivers up my spine and I’m going to share one of those times with you today. This isn’t easy to read, but it’s important to read! For almost forty years I was the wife of a practicing pedophile and didn’t know it. I saw odd behavior but passed it off as just that — odd. There were times when I was treated genuinely well in my marriage — like I was loved and adored. And, there were times when I was neglected and ignored to the point of making me withdraw into a shell of silence and depression. There was next to zero self-esteem in my life, and all I wanted to do was “be good enough” to be loved by my husband and the father of my children. There were times when I literally begged for love, and this segment of my life that I’m about to share will give you an even closer inside glimpse into the mind of a man who spent long, hard hours planning his every move that dug him deeper into the dark world of pedophilia.

If you’re new to this blog, I suggest you begin here and continue reading each post so that you can watch how the events in my life unfolded while being married for forty years to a practicing pedophile. I didn’t know what signs to look for and I’m sharing my story so that you can learn from me just how easily we can be fooled into completely trusting our children with molesters!

John loved church camp! It was part of his life growing up as a kid. In fact, I can say that church camp was one of the biggest highlights of his life. He wasn’t a big talker with me, but when it came to church camp, he got downright giddy. He would mark the date of church camp on his calendar a year in advance and make certain that he was a volunteer there every year. Honestly, I think we could have experienced a death in the family and he would have put church camp above attending the funeral.

In 1975, John had made his usual plans to volunteer his week at church camp. I’ll be honest with you. By this time in our married lives, I was so used to staying at home, that the thought never crossed my mind to go with him. Besides, on this particular year I was sixteen weeks pregnant with our fourth child and I wasn’t having a good pregnancy. I was experiencing bleeding and the doctor warned me that I should have complete bed rest until the bleeding stopped.

As you can guess, a troubled pregnancy was certainly no reason for John to miss the highlight of his year. He worked hard for weeks planning games for the talent show at camp. He was known as the “camp jokester” — the one who kept things lively and hopping at camp. He was a prankster doing things like hiding in the woods at night and hiding food from the cooks in the mess hall. He had his reputation as “camp comedian” to live up to, and nothing would stop John from going!

He also loved to hide out in the woods and set traps that would make the kids trip and fall and then he’d spook them by grabbing them and making them think that they tripped over a snake. I can’t tell you how animated he got over his week at camp!

He especially loved raiding the girl’s cabins at night, and would tell story after story of peeking inside the cabin windows late at night to scare the girls half to death.

This particular year I really didn’t want John to leave me. I had three young children, a fourth on the way, and it was a difficult pregnancy. I literally begged him to stay home from camp that year. “Please, can’t you stay with me? I’m so afraid that something will happen to this baby while you’re gone.”

John had a way of looking at me that was a mixture of pity, disgust, and questioning. He just stared as if to say, “I don’t get it. Why would I stay home? Camp is where I need to be.”

And, that’s just where he went. I remember the morning he packed up the car for camp this particular year. I sobbed because the bleeding had gotten worse, and I knew once John was at camp I wasn’t allowed to call him. He said it was a “camp rule.” In later years I found out there was no such rule. He could have picked up the camp phone in the kitchen and called me any time he wanted.

I watched the car pull out of the driveway of the church parsonage and then the tears really began to fall. I had already miscarried once and I knew how horrifying an experience that was and I was petrified that I would have to go through another loss again. I wanted my husband home with me!

Logic would tell you that I should have said, “You’re not going. This is your baby, and I am your wife. You’re staying with me! This is where you belong.” But, when you are already beaten down emotionally, there’s not a lot of fight in you. And, it is humiliating and demoralizing to have to beg for someone to love you. And, that’s just how it was with me. Besides, I felt once again that it was my Christian duty to share John with others — that he was a real asset to the campers. This was supposed to be a fun week for the camp kids, and a part of me felt so ashamed for wanting to keep him home from having this time away that he loved so much.

I’d like to say this was a good week, and all was well, but it was not. The pregnancy continued to give me problems. I was scared out of my mind as the bleeding gained momentum. And, I was also too afraid to try to call John to ask him to come home with me. In looking back now, I can’t believe how afraid of him I was. I have grown to say that he had a “quiet, complete, empowering control over me” — so hidden from everyone else. To the public, he was a fun, sweet, kind, man who loved his wife and children with all of his heart. He was also this man who everyone wanted to be around — he could make you laugh, he was even-tempered and so patient about everything, and he always flavored life with Christ-like love. At least that how it seemed to others.

John never called home once that week to ask how I was doing or to ask how the kids were doing. Not one call! Nothing! Not one word all week long!

When he came back on Saturday, I was not feeling well at all. In fact, I was now bleeding regularly. But, I didn’t tell John. Instead, I listened to him tell his stories of the crazy antics he played at camp. He told me about one particular preacher that he “razzed” (a word he loved to use) until this preacher actually cried. John pulled so many pranks that week that he was not invited back! He laughed himself silly over that! In his words, “They love me! I’ll go back next year. You just wait and see. That camp can’t survive without me!”

I shudder to think of what he really did while peeking inside of the girl’s cabins at night while they were undressing to get into their pj’s. I cringe when I think of him hiding out tripping the girls on their way back to the cabins and hearing them shriek in the woods as they thought a snake was wrapping around them! I’ve cried many tears over stories that were later told to me about him volunteering to walk the young girls to their cabins after the nightly devotionals so that they wouldn’t get afraid of the dark.

John loved church camp because it gave him a world of opportunities to have free access to children! He was trusted and loved! While other adults were sitting around the campfire talking together, he was out playing “pranks” on the kids.

Please pay attention! This is not a joke! Read this over and over again until it all sinks in! John is sitting in prison serving a thirty year sentence for molesting children. He has admitted to molesting children since the age of fourteen. He studied children, and knew games that they loved to play such as tag and hide-and-seek. He loved hanging out with kids far more than the adults. He got so excited about this, that he could barely tell the stories because he was so giddy about his time with the kids at camp. That’s not normal behavior for an adult! That’s really not normal behavior for an adult preacher — a man of God! That’s not normal behavior for a husband and father!

There were red flags waving everywhere, but nobody caught on!

Four days after John got home from camp, I lost the baby. I began hemorrhaging and for a period of twenty-four hours my life was at risk because the bleeding was so bad. I had emergency surgery.

John did not stay with me at the hospital. He left while I was still in recovery. He said hospitals bothered him and he didn’t like hearing about blood.

My mind was left in a state of flux. There were so many things I didn’t understand about the man who was my husband. He said he loved me, but he was so distant. Around me he was not affectionate, but around children he was absolutely amazing — hugging, holding, snuggling, and cuddling.

I thought there was something so very wrong with me. It took me forty years to find out it wasn’t me. It never was about me. It was all about the children.

Please, please share this blog with others. Take these words to heart. Do you know someone who displays this type of behavior? If so, have you confronted this person? Are you living in a situation similar to this? Do you see “odd” behavior? Does your gut feeling tell you something is wrong? Are you being emotionally abused? Do you know a child who is being abused? Has your child given you hints that he or she has been abused by someone? Are you listening to the voices of the children?

Please talk to someone! Keep this person from your children! Pedophiles are walking among us. They are your neighbor, your preacher, your teacher, your mailman, your best friend — maybe even your husband!

For the sake of the children, please let’s be on the alert at all times. Let’s make it impossible for these predators to gain access to our children! It’s our responsibility to do all we can to keep our children safe — beginning right now!!!

Love,

Clara

Married to a Pedophile: The Mystery of the Elder’s Meeting

Posted on August 5, 2013 by Clara Hinton

Thanks so much for your interest in keeping our children safe from predators! It has been so encouraging to me to see so many of you reading this blog, posting comments, and sharing this valuable information with your friends!

If you are new to this blog, I would suggest you start reading here. It will give you a much better feel for the way a pedophile works very hard to target and ensnare both the child victims as well as the adults.

I’m going to skip over several months of activities in our married lives in order to move on to what I think were the biggest red flags in our almost forty years of marriage. Trust me when I say now that I’ve been reading, studying, talking with victims, and gathering information, there were hundreds of red flags along the way but unless you have some sort of base knowledge of how pedophiles work you will remain naive, like I was, to the pedophilic behaviors happening right before your eyes.

By this time in our married lives, John had graduated college with a degree in Religious Education. He was the first student graduating from Oklahoma Christian University with such a degree. He persuaded his professors to allow him to change his major from business to bible in his senior year of college, and then to go overseas one semester living in Israel with his parents while “studying” (I honestly don’t know how he got this approved yet!), and then when he came back to the states he would need an extra semester of bible in order to get his self-made degree in religious education. As he put it, his job would be to “coordinate bible curriculum” for churches from nursery classes through adult classes on a rotation basis. Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? Funny thing is he never used that degree! What he wanted to do was become a youth minister! His focus was working with young children!

Notice once again the manipulation of his professors! John was never overtly confrontational but he was quietly stubborn. Once he said something that was it. That’s how it was and he would not back down. Interestingly, he could manipulate the most intelligent of people without them ever knowing it!

I was well into my role as a mother by now, and I loved every second of it. John was away from home so much that I called the church his “first home.” He loved being out with the youth. He no longer had college classes to attend, and he was now officially on the payroll as a youth minister for a large church. He was happy! And, I was happy staying home with my little girl!

Let me insert something here. By “happy” I mean I was happy that I had someone to hold and love and cuddle. I did not get those things from my husband. He remained distant and very quiet with me. It boggled my mind (and at times it still does) when I think of his two very distinct personalities. When he was among the kids at church he was energetic, full of laughter, and always the life of the party. When he was home, he would slump in a chair, his eyes would roll back in his head and he’d fall asleep. Night after night after night I’d wait up for him, but it was all in vain. He didn’t speak to me more than a “yeah”, “no”, “okay”, “I’m tired” and “I’ve got to get up early. I’m going to bed.” It was noticeable to anyone who knew us. I was asked many, many times what was wrong with “us.”

After a while, you just grow to accept that this is how things are going to be. My life and my focus was my daughter. And, oh how happy that must have made John! I had plenty to occupy me right at home in our apartment while he was out and about.

Note: It is not normal for a husband to desire to be with others more than his own wife. It is really not normal for a husband to desire being with church youth more than his own wife and daughter! Mental abuse is real, and it does a lot of harm. I liken it to training a pet. After a while, a pet learns to accept a little pat on the head and not ask for more attention, but that pet is always there ready to shower his owner with affection. I felt dehumanized on so many levels. I felt like a dog who was always begging for crumbs of time and affection. Little-by-little any self-worth that I had was being stripped away. It’s humiliating to beg for affection!

John was busy planning a huge week-long youth event that was to take place at a camp about four hours away from the church. He had a large group of youth going, and a host of parents were also attending as chaperones and bringing their young children. It was going to be a family affair. You guessed it! Just as happened with the New Year’s Eve party, I was not invited to go along!!! Why? John said it would be too hard with me and our daughter there. He said it was his job to keep things going all week-long and he was going to be too busy taking care of all of the details to have to deal with us.

I cried until my heart felt like it was broken in two. We had never been separated since getting married and I didn’t want to be away from the man I loved — not even for one night. This was going to be seven long nights alone! I cried and begged some more, but to no avail. The answer was a firm “no.”

Note: John never, ever raised his voice. He always seemed so “in control” no matter was situation arose. However, he would never bend once his decision was made! This is master manipuation and control at its best!

Something wasn’t adding up. Why were others going as a family but we weren’t? Why didn’t John want me with him? I wasn’t some monster or some nagging wife who would have hung all over him. I just wanted to spend the week with the man I loved!

Instead, John came up with a wonderful plan. “Why don’t you and the baby fly to New Jersey for the week?” “What? How can I handle her on a plane by myself?” He assured me I could do it, so I called home and asked if that would be okay. Somehow my family managed to get together the money for a plane ticket and off to New Jersey we were going during the week of the youth camp.

Note: Never once did John call me during his week at camp! This is a huge red flag! This practice became routine for him throughout our years together. He would go away for a week at a time and never call home, nor would he give me a number of where he was staying. My coined phrase became, “I could have a child dead and buried and you’d never know it. I have no idea how to track you down.” His secrecy was another huge, ongoing red flag!

Timw went by ao slowly for me that week. I missed having John home at night. Strange, you might be saying. But, not really. I had been conditioned to think I couldn’t survive by myself. I somehow felt like this trip was a “punishment” rather than a special treat. We were just two years into our marriage and my strongest desire was to be a great Christian wife and mother. I wanted nothing more. How could I do that when it felt like we were growing further and further apart?

I still remember so many details of that week. I remember that by Wednesday I wanted to go back to Oklahoma early. I would sit by the phone praying that John would call. Even a two minute call would have been fine. But nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not one word!

Finally, on Saturday night my daughter and I flew into Oklahoma City Airport. Sadly, were not greeted by John, but rather were greeted by a lady from church. John was with his youth group, of course.

Nothing felt peaceful or “right.” I felt like I didn’t even know this man who married me. Where was he? Why couldn’t he be there to meet us? Did he miss us? Did he even care? Why did he send a lady from church to get us after an entire week of silence? I felt like our marriage was crumbling. We were drifting further and further apart. In fact, it didn’t even feel like a marriage and I was sick about that. My insides were knotted up and once again the hot tears began streaming down my face.

Note: If something feels wrong, it probably is! Learn to go with your gut feelings, especially when there are obvious red flags dangling right before your eyes!

From the book, “Not With My Child”, ‘ Skillful abusers can easily provide youth with seemingly genuine attention, companionship, love, emotional rapport and a sense of belonging that they crave. Youths are accustomed to spending time alone and are not afraid to be alone with someone they like (especially in a church setting). Parents and protectors responsible for the youths are more than willing to be relieved of responsibilities so that they can have time of their own.’

Please listen carefully to what I’m about to say. John was called into an elder’s meeting on Sunday night after church. I didn’t think anything of it. I thought they’d probably go over the details of the week at camp. When John came home from the meeting he went straight to bed. Little did I know what news was going to be given to me in the morning!

John got up early as usual on Monday morning. He spent his two hours in the bathroom. But, he did not go to work. He said he had some news to tell me. “I was fired last night! Those elders are total jerks. They said I’m not communicating good enough with the kids or their parents, so they fired me as of last night.”

I was in shock. Total shock. His life was those kids and the church. How could those elders do that to him? Why would they do something so wrong to a man who gave so much to the church? I pulled him close and sobbed, but he would have none of that. He said, “I don’t need them. I’ll find another job. We’ll just use this as our chance to move back closer to home.”

Notice the control? Notice how I stood by him? Notice how I didn’t press him for answers? I sided right with him saying the elders were horrible men to do that. Never, ever would I have questioned if something went wrong during that week! This is what total control over a person does! He had masterfully contolled me just as he controlled the children he molested throughout the years. I stood up for him — not questions asked!

As I look back now, there were patterns that had formed already. John was permanently kicked out of Boy Scouts. I never learned why. He was kicked out of church camp. I never knew why. He was fired from a previous job working at Wilson Meat Company. I never knew why. Something was very, very wrong, and it would be almost forty years until I could begin to put the pieces together!

Grooming. Control. Manipulation. Mental abuse. All of these are characteristic of pedophiles.

Thank you so much for following along on this journey of me being married to a practicing pedophile for almost forty years without know it. Please pay close attention to the intertwining of events, the red flags that were overlooks, and the tightening control over the years. Sadly, I was the perfect mate for a pedophile! I have cried millions of tears over this, and I pray that nobody else will ever fall into the same horrible trap!

For the children, let’s get educated! For the children, let’s stop this type of control and abuse! For the children, let’s not allow these predators to ever get to our children again!

Next week we will talk about the job search and our move. In the meantime, please keep your eyes open. Be aware of the things that just don’t seem right! Ask questions. Speak up. Speak out. Set boundaries. Keep your children safe!

Love,

Clara

PS It is my sincere belief that something happened with one of the children at church camp that week. I believe it with all of my heart! I have tried to locate the elders, but unfortunately cannot. Most (if not all) of them have since died.

Married to a Pedophile: The Missing Wedding Ring

Posted on July 25, 2013 by Clara Hinton

Thank you so much to all who have been faithfully following along with this blog, and a special thanks to those who continue to share this blog with others. As we learn and grow together about how to spot a pedophile in the grooming process before sexual molestation takes place we are taking some very real steps towards helping to save our children from a lifetime of heartache and struggles.

Please note that this continuing story is not written by a professional counselor or any such person that proclaims to have a degree in sexual molestation behavioral therapy. I am a woman who was married for almost forty years to a practicing pedophile and I didn’t know it. It is my heart’s passion to share with you the information I now know that were “red flags” that I should have recognized. It is my intent for you to learn from my experiences so that we can prevent pedophiles from committing their heinous crimes against children.

If you are new to this blog, please begin here. I’d like you to get the full story so that you can understand just how crafty pedophiles are. You might already be sucked right into this web of manipulation and maybe there is something here that is said that will click with you and empower you enough to stop the perpetrator in his tracks!

Let’s pick up where we left off last week. John and I were the proud parents of a baby girl. She was beautiful and so special. Even though John didn’t seem to have the social skills to know how to treat me he was very at home when with our baby daughter. He talked to her, he played with her, and he seemed so openly at ease with her. In fact, it didn’t take me long to feel a slight bit of jealousy of the attention he was able to shower on her with ease while he seemed to be cold, unfeeling, and emotionless when around me.

My world seemed upside down in so many ways. The man I loved was so affectionate and different with others — outgoing, happy, talkative — when around children and his church friends, but when he was around me he was withdrawn, gloomy, and out of touch. You have no idea how many times I tried to greet him at the door with a hug — a simple hug — only to have him say, “Please don’t touch me like that! I don’t like that. It gives me a weird feeling like I can feel my blood being squeezed through my veins.”

I have no idea what that was all about, but after trying time and time again, I finally backed off and learned John wasn’t a hugger — except with children. He literally pushed me aside and would remove my hands from attempting to give him a hug. How degrading! How humiliating to continuously be shoved aside!

Even more odd to me was the way John showered attention and affection on kids at church. My goodness! There was no holding him back. He tickled, he squeezed, he picked up and twirled kids around, and he loved rough-housing with them!

NOTE: It’s normal for adults to interact with children, but there are safe boundaries. If you see someone moving beyond the normal boundaries using unusual touching, extra close hugging, propping children up on their shoulders, or rolling on the floor using tickling techniques consider these all red flags!!!

I’ll give you a prime example of what I’m talking about. John was now well established with the church as their fill-in youth pastor, and soon-to-be full-time youth pastor. The kids loved him. He was fun! He was full of jokes, and he was always coming up with new, creative games for them to play — all in the name of “church youth activities” to keep the youth group active and alive. The more fun they had, the more they wanted to go to church. That made their parents happy, and they would host youth parties, and allow John to take the kids on special youth outings. *NOTE: Can you see how easy it is for pedophiles to work their way into the “trust” of parents at church?

John often brought kids home with him to hang out and have fun. He seemed to have a knack for finding the shy kids, and one boy in particular that I remember was an asthmatic who didn’t have many friends at all at church. In fact, he was a rather thin, very short boy for his age who was pretty much a loner. John was his hero.

One Saturday afternoon during the summer John went to the church building while I was giving our baby daughter a stroller ride. The next thing I knew, I saw him driving up to the apartment with this boy in tow. As I walked to the apartment John announced (he never asked — always “told” me), “Hey, Tom’s gonna spend the afternoon with me. We’re gonna practice playing ball and we’re just gonna hang out for the afternoon.”

“Fine”, I thought. But, really it wasn’t fine. It would have been nice to spend a fun afternoon together — just the three of us. John never seemed to have time for “family” — it was always the church first! This youth pastor stuff was driving me nuts. He practically lived at that church building. If he wasn’t there he was “hanging out” with kids from church having fun. “Hey, that’s what the parents want me to do. That’s my job. I need to make church fun for these kids.”

So, this boy and John went into the yard that was part of our rental. Since the windows were open I could hear the loud laughter and squeals coming from outside, so I went to the window and just stood in shock. Here’s this man who nearly plays dead when he’s near me and who pushes me away because he doesn’t want to be touched. And, what do I see? He was on the ground, rolling around, tickling this boy, grabbing him from behind and lifting him up onto John’s stomach (very, very weird to me). And, John got him in some kind of arm lock and had this kid tight up against him and they did rolls all across the yard! There I stood watching this craziness from the window all the while thinking, “This is not tossing a ball. This is a big bunch of nonsense!”

In looking back, I can now see the huge red flags all over the place. I know that John’s “preference” at stated in his investigation and conviction was “young girls”, but I have no doubt in my mind that he did his fair share with little boys, too. This is not uncommon for pedophiles to experiment with both sexes until they find the “sex of choice.”

During those hours of horse-play two things happened. That boy had a severe asthma attack and I had to get his mom on the phone and ask what we were to do. He literally couldn’t breathe and he didn’t have his asthma inhaler with him. She was furious! Absolutely furious as she said she had given her son explicit instructions he was to be kept quiet and to stay inside. The Oklahoma heat was detrimental to his asthma.

The second thing that happened was John lost his wedding ring that afternoon. That’s how much rough housing was being done! I’m talking about more than two hours of tickling, rolling together in the grass, tossing this kid around, lifting him up and down, grabbing and holding him until he was so sick that he had to be given a special treatment at the hospital to get air in his passageway.

Life was very fuzzy for me at that time. Fuzzy in the sense that nothing made sense. I saw a man I was married to who was like two different people. He was the glum, quiet, man who ate and slept at home, but rarely contributed to any conversation except to answer in “yes” or “no” words to my attempts to get him to talk to me. His mind always seemed preoccupied with others. At this time in our married lives, his focus was that church youth group. I’ll be honest with you. I was sick of hearing, “I have to go spend time with the kids at church.” I often felt of the church youth group as his adulterous affair, and come to find out, I wasn’t off-base with that thinking!

The “other John” was this crazy, funny, comedian who entertained young teens and children with his jokes, who was loved and adored by the parents of these kids, and who always seemed to charm people. He wasn’t shy or quiet at all when in this type of group situation and it truly baffled me.

NOTE: John did not feel at all bad or apologetic about the boy getting the asthma attack. In fact, he told the mother, “I told him he needed to calm down, but he was too excited. He should have known better.” The mother ended up yelling long and hard at her son. The son just looked at John and never said a word. He had already been groomed enough to not speak up. He craved the attention and affection of John. There was no dad in this home, so the mom was more than willing for John to serve as the male role model in her son’s life.

John did not at all feel bad about losing his wedding band. It would be two years until he replaced it — only because I kept after him. I was a newlywed, for Pete’s sake, and I wanted others to know we were married! I searched on my hands and knees outside for hours trying to find his ring. It was the sentiment that meant the most to me. That was the ring I placed on his finger the day we were married. The emotional loss meant nothing to him. A few years later he went to JC Penney’s to purchase a cheap band in order to keep me quiet. Again, I felt like our marriage was low on this list of his priorities. The more he pushed me away and the more he diminished the importance of our lives together, the more I focused my attention on our daughter. She always had a smile for me. She loved to be hugged. She filled in the gaps for the emotional bonding I was not getting with my husband. Not healthy for any relationship, by any means!

So, what does all of this mean in terms of how to identify a child molester? Where are the red flags?

There are many! John had an almost “giddiness” about spending time with the young kids from church. He neglected his wife and daughter in order to spend time away with others. This is a huge red flag! His priority should have been at home!

He was two different personalities — outgoing, fun, the life of the party with those he was trying to impress (in this case, this was his “grooming” time). At home he was distant, did not talk, private, and very unaffectionate. This drove me about crazy! It made me feel once again like an “ugly, unattractive, wife.” Often, he looked at me with a look that I could only call disgust. Sadly, I spent many hours sitting at home crying as I held our baby close. She was my only comfort at this time.

John thrived on being a hero to others! Beware of this!!! A husband should be a hero-type to his wife first. All others (except God) should come second. This was never the case in our marriage.

His tickling, touching, and game playing went well beyond normal boundaries with children. Again, stand back and watch for this because it is a big clue that is often overlooked! There are right and wrong ways of interacting with children. A pedophile’s hands are quick! They have studied long and hard how to touch in erogenous zones in order to arouse the child without the child knowing. Later on this “touching technique” will be used to proceed ahead to further sexual stimulation while making the child feel responsible and guilty. This one thing causes life-long problems for victims of sexual molestation — being groomed to feel that they are responsible for this sexual exploitation and molestation.

Our married life was broken. I felt alone. We were not communicating. John was distant. He had a quiet, controlling way of making me feel belittled and ashamed that I wasn’t the wife I should have been. I was wrecked — “damaged” as he often called me. A term I would learn was part of a pedophile’s vocabulary. He often reminded me that I came from a broken, dysfunctional family and I didn’t know a good relationship from a bad one. There were days I felt like I was crazy. And, that is just how he wanted it!

Next week we will talk about his job — the mystery of the “elder’s meeting” and the lies that were told to me!

Thank you so much for following along. Often, we really do feel crazy for questioning the motives of others, but I can’t repeat it enough. If it doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. Pay attention to your gut feelings!

Emotional abuse is very intentional, and it cripples your ability to think and to take action. Once you’re caught in this horrible web of intentional abuse, it’s so hard to find the strength to get out — and that’s just what the pedophile is counting on! The weaker you get, the stronger the pedophile gets!!

Let’s be smarter! Let’s get educated! Let’s look for those red flags! Let’s speak out loudly! For the sake of the children, let’s stop these molesters in their tracks!

Thank you for reading. Thank you for sharing this blog with others. Thank you for caring enough to get educated! For our children, we must stop child molesters in the grooming stage — before they reach our children! And, that means being smarter than they are. Together we can do it!

Love,

Clara

Finding A Healing Place

Tag Archives: married to a pedophile

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

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

Married to a Pedophile: The Camp Jokester Hiding in the Dark!

Married to a Pedophile: The Mystery of the Elder’s Meeting

Married to a Pedophile: The Missing Wedding Ring