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

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!

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 oneWhy 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 twoWhy 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 threeJohn 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

Married to a Pedophile: The Tentacles of a Child Molester

I have a headache tonight.  It’s caused by stress and heartache.  I know the feeling all-too-well by now.  It’s been over two years since he was arrested and put into prison.

If you are new to this blog, please begin here.  The reading is quick, but I will warn you that it is not easy.  This is my story of being married for almost forty years to a practicing pedophile without knowing it.

I’m straying from my normal chronological order of events and sharing a bit of what’s on my heart right now.  With Thanksgiving and Christmas approaching, so much new pain has surfaced that I feel it will be good for me to share.  Sometimes people just don’t understand how far-reaching the actions of a practicing pedophile really are!

The pain that flows through me tonight is not for me.  This pain — this horrible, aching hurt that is deep within my soul — is coming from the knowledge of how far-reaching the tentacles are of a man who molested children. This man who I shared my heart, mind, and soul with for almost forty years has left behind so much pain for so many people that at times it feels like my heart is going to explode.

Some say, “You can get over it. The children he molested will get over it. Life goes on.  He’s in prison now and everyone can rest easy knowing that justice has been served.”

If only it was that easy!

Sometimes I lay awake in bed at night thinking of all of the lives that have been hurt by this one man’s actions.  Every day I get emails — lots of emails — telling me of the pain.  Some are angered and want to see him face-to-face and tell him how much his actions have hurt them.  Others write and tell me they will never be the same — ever. They cry daily asking for relief from the pain.  Some have abandoned the very idea that God exists.  “How can we trust a God we cannot see when the man who taught us of God was living such a dark life of lies?”

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Who gets harmed by a man who molests children?  How far do the tentacles of a practicing pedophile reach?

1.  Children who were victimized — nightmares, horror, fear of the dark, mistrust, shame, guilt, betrayal, confusion, depression, night terrors (and this is just a wee bit of what it was like for these precious children)

2.  Church family — betrayed by their minister that they loved so much.  There is often a sickened taste left in the mouth for ministers.  If you can’t trust your minister, who can you trust?

3.  The families of the children who were harmed — Try to put yourself in the shoes of those parents.  Can you imagine the guilt for not protecting their children? Can you imagine how much it hurts that a person you loved and trusted is the very one who molested and abused your child?

4.  Friends — they thought they knew this man, but have been shattered by the fact that they were so fooled. They went hunting, fishing, camping together.  They shared stories and fireside chats.  They thought they knew him, but are being strangled by the tentacles of his lies and deceit.

5.  His children — there are no words that I can say to describe their brokenness.  This is the father they loved and adored so much.  He was not only their dad, but their spiritual leader — the man who baptized every one of them.  He was the one who took them hunting and played basketball with them.  He was there at all of the ballet recitals.  He was the one they respected and cherished.  The horror, the shame, the questions that these children have will go on until the end of time.  Why?  How?  Why this?  How could this be?  We didn’t see it.  And, then the flood of tears because they miss the father they have lost.   

6.  Business relationships — the banker, the postmaster, the insurance clients, the barber, the family doctor, the librarian, the Christian bookstore owner, the minister friends —  the thousands of people who dealt with him weekly are shattered.  I’m still getting phone calls saying, “I can’t believe this.  I just can’t believe this.”

7. The community — he volunteered at the prison, the food pantry, the hospital, homeless shelters, nursing homes — you name it, and he was there.  People have sobbed in front of me saying, “I’m shattered.  I don’t know how this is possible.”

And, finally, the woman who fell the hardest because she feels so responsible for not seeing it.  That woman is me.  I’ve questioned myself a million different ways and I still come up blank. How did I not see it?  Sure — there were odd things, but he was an odd person.  That was part of his charm at first, I guess. I fell for him hook, line, and sinker and I just didn’t see him for who he really was.

When I am alone with my thoughts those tentacles of his reach around my heart and squeeze until I can hardly breathe.  I birthed his children, and now they have such pain and will suffer all of the days of their lives.  Their spouses and their children will hurt, agonize, and suffer too.  His grandchildren will never have a relationship with him.  It almost kills me to know that.  I dreamed it would be so different.  Our family is broken, and now we must find a way to keep from breaking even more. 

And, then the tentacles squeeze tighter yet as they sweep across my mind and I think of him in prison doing the same thing.  He brags how much good he is doing in the name of God.  He’s teaching bible lessons, giving sermons, praying over people, singing in the choir, meeting with volunteers setting up programs.  He is loved.  His deceitful charm is working all over again, and I feel an inner shaking that wants to scream, “Liar!  You are a liar!  And, you’re still hurting people with your lies! Haven’t you done enough harm already? You continue to maniuplate and deceive, and you will do this all the days of your life!”

tentaclesThe actions of this one man — the man I married — have reached out and hurt so many people.  He molested innocent children and stripped them of their childhood.  He warped their thinking and mixed up and confused them so much that they don’t know who — if anyone — they can trust.  He manipulated and used people for his selfish purposes.  He took delight in his self-serving actions.  He did nothing to stop this.  He still says, “I don’t see what’s so bad about all of this.”

REALLY?  REALLY?  You don’t see how far-reaching, how deeply penetrating, how long-lasting your evil, corrupt, deceitful, heinous actions have gone?  You don’t see the hearts that are bleeding and will forever bleed?  You don’t see it because you are selfish.  You don’t see it because you don’t want to see it.  You don’t see it because you cannot see what you don’t want to see!

I’m writing this blog because I want you to understand the seriousness of what just ONE molester can do.  Look how far and wide the pain goes from the actions of just one.  Please help me to bring awareness about child predators.  I was married to one, and I’m speaking from the heart.  When you ask me, “How do you profile a predator?” I can only say to look for those “odd signs” — the ones I’ve been mentioning on this blog for weeks. Go with your gut feelings because they are usually right.

Do all you can to keep your child safe!  Little children need us to protect them from men like the one I married!  He was charming, witty, kind, generous, and he groomed little children and molested them for over fifty years.  His actions will cause pain and heartache for years and years to come!

Stay on your toes.  Keep your eyes and ears open.  Don’t allow your children to be alone with anyone when they are young.  Teach them from little up that NOBODY is to touch their body.  Let them know they can tell you ANYTHING.  BELIEVE them when they do tell. LISTEN to them.  They will give hints.

Let us be advocates in our churches, schools, daycares — and in our homes.  Let’s do all we can to keep our children safe!

child abuse 4Thank you for your comments, your questions, your love, your concern and your involvement in keeping our children safe.  They have been unprotected for too long.  It’s time we stop these predators in their tracks and keep our children safe! Speak up.  Speak loud.  Speak often. Our children are depending on us!

Love,

Clara

Married to a Pedophile: The Bunnies that Disappeared

Sometimes I hesitate to write certain stories from my life that were “red flags” about John’s secret life as a practicing pedophile because quite honestly it’s hard to write about these things and it’s shamefully embarrassing to me that I didn’t at least tell someone — anyone– what was going on.  I think that’s the cry of every person who has been emotionally abused — fear of nobody believing you and also fear of being called stupid for putting up with so much wrong. I lived with both fears.

This story is graphic and if you are weak in the stomach, please do not read this one.It’s very difficult for me to think about, and I’ve tried and tried to shove it out of my mind, but the images are burned there forever.  I will share only because I believe this information is important for you to know — this is information that clearly shows something was wrong with John.  He was a gentle, kind person, and he was also one of the most cruel men I’ve ever known.

If you are new to this blog, I’d suggest you begin reading here. It will help you to get a bit of a background of the unfolding of how this mystery came to be solved.

By now, our kids were older and we had allowed them to have pets.  Our oldest daughter chose a doggie, and he was adorable.  He slept with her and he was truly our spoiled family pet.  We had the usual parakeets, turtles, and fish, but this particular year one of the kid’s friends from school had some bunnies to give away so of course all we heard from morning ’til night was, “Please….please can we have a pet bunny?  I promise to take good care of him.  I’ll play with him and teach him tricks.  I’ll feed and water him every day.”  And, on and on it went.  Well, as it turned out, we visited the farm, the kids chose their bunnies, and we came home with three of them.  They were adorable!

bunniesThe kids wrapped them in little blankets while John put the finishing touches on their bunny cages.  They would stay in the side yard during the warm months, and during the winter months they would be brought into our garage for protection from the cold.  The kids had used their allowance for the feeders, the straw, and the bunny pellets which they ate.  And, so we became a family with a pet dog, several kittens, and now playful bunnies.  Every day after school the kids would play with their pet bunnies in the yard.  That is until they began growing larger and got a bit too frisky for them.  Rabbits have sharp claws and they can give a pretty good bite, too!

It wasn’t but a couple of months into the pet bunny ordeal that the kids came to me and said, “Do you think we can give the bunnies back?  They’re mean and they aren’t fun to play with anymore.”  That was fine by me because quite truthfully I felt sorry for those rabbits always cooped up in their cages.  What kind of life is that?

Rabbit_cageI talked to John about calling the farm to see if they wanted the rabbits back, but he stopped me on that idea.  “No way!  I have a better idea.  We don’t have to call the farm.  I’ll find a home for those little rascals on Saturday.”

Hmmm….I had no idea who John was giving the rabbits to, but I wasn’t at all worried about it. I was just glad that those poor things would find a good home.  Our kids were afraid of them, and they just weren’t getting the attention they needed.

Saturday rolled around and I asked John if he was still taking care of the rabbits.  “Yep.  It’s a done deal.  I’m going to wait ’til the kids are down for a nap.”

Nap time came and John went outside.  He said, “I’m going to take care of those rabbits now.”

“Okay.  Thank you!”

This is the part that is very hard for me to share.  It’s grotesque and barbaric. It was so out of character with the man I thought I knew.

After about thirty minutes, John walked into the kitchen and said, “Hand me a baking pan.  I’m cooking rabbit for supper.”

I froze in my spot in the kitchen.  No.  He wouldn’t do that to the kids pet rabbits.  No way would he do that.  John loved to hunt, but my goodness — these were family pets!

I could feel myself starting to cry.  “What did you do?  Please tell me!  What did you do?”

John looked at me with a half grin, half smirk on his face as he calmly said, “We’re having rabbit for supper.  Those things were hard to kill.  They kept running around in their cages.  I had to hold them down while I got them.”

My body is shaking as I’m telling this story because I truly became afraid of John that afternoon.  For the very first time I knew with full assurance that he was capable of doing atrocious things.  He said he took a hammer from the garage and hit each one on the head several times to kill them.  He literally smashed in their skulls, skinned them, gutted them, and then wanted to prepare a feast with the pets he had just murdered.

hammerI dropped to my knees screaming and I thought I was going to vomit.  John had the most odd look on his face as if to say, “What is wrong with you?  I’ve just brought home supper and this is how you act?”

He took the baking pan and brought in the rabbit meat as I sobbed and wondered how to tell the kids what had just happened.  Do you know what?  I don’t even remember what they were told.  I’m drawing a blank.  I want so badly to completely forget that scene, but it’s one that will never be forgotten.  I saw a side of John — an evil, malicious side — that I never knew existed.

He breaded the rabbit meat and cooked it as he hummed a song in the kitchen.  No, I did NOT eat any of the meat.  I couldn’t bear to look at it.  I just kept replaying over and over in my mind what it must have been like as he threw blow after blow onto the heads of those rabbits until they died.

I looked at John from a distance as he sat eating his rabbit meat, and I saw evil.  I felt the evil.  I knew at that point that something was terribly wrong, but I didn’t know what it was.  He had crossed a line and had gone into territory that was reserved for those who were mentally ill, only he didn’t see it that way.  He never thought there was a thing wrong with what he did!  In fact, he said that was the best rabbit meat he had ever eaten!

cooked rabbit meatThe red flags were there!  Something was very wrong with this man who could intentionally plan on killing his children’s pet rabbits in such an inhumane way and then sitting down at the dinner table and eating them.  That look on John’s face — that sneer — was frightening.  He looked like a different person.  I knew from that moment forward that he was capable of inflicting pain on the innocent without feeling any remorse.  I had seen it with my own eyes, but I didn’t know what to do.

Do you see what was going on here?  John had crossed safe boundaries — he had exposed part of his dark side to me and I reacted just as he knew I would.  I was shocked.  I was repulsed.  I was frightened.  But I didn’t tell a soul.  Ever.  That was a well-kept secret without him ever threatening me not to tell.

Molesters do evil things to childrenThey hurt them on purpose.  They do not feel remorse.  They get a rush from doing it.  They love the feeling of being in control — being the one with the hammer — and pounding down until there is no more breath left.  In a most unusual way, John was exposing to me who he was, but I didn’t get it.  I knew something was wrong, but……I slid deeper down into the hole of secrecy and despondency and never told anyone.  However, from that day forward, a side of me always knew that he was not to be trusted.  Ever.

What can you glean from this story?  Two things are most important to remember.  A child molester is charming and kind and sweet to others.  I don’t think anyone would ever have believed this story had I told them.  They would have looked at me in dismay and thought I was the biggest story-teller around.  Never in one million years would kind Mr. John do anything harmful — not even to a flea! Wasn’t he the one that spent hours buidling the rabbit pens?  Wasn’t he the one that went and got fresh straw for them every week?

Besides that, he loved and adored his children and he’d never, ever do anything to intentionally hurt them.  My goodness!  He was the most loving father ever!  He never raised his voice.  He never said a swear word.  He was always funny and even-tempered with the kids.  This is not something their dad would do!

A child molester always has an air-tight story.  The kids always surrounded him with love and their complete allegiance.  In their eyes, their dad could do no wrong!

Beware.  I’ll say it again and again and again.  Chances are very big that you know a child molester.  Chances are that you trust a child molester.  Chances are that you’ve had red flags waving in your face, but you keep saying, “No.  Not this person.  He is too kind.  Too giving.  Too loving. He has done so much good in our church and community.”

Familiarize yourself with some of the characteristics of a pedophile. If you think something is “off” — something is “wrong”, then report it.  It’s better to err on the side of protecting our children than letting this behavior go on!

When I put together the Christmas gift, the skull for Mother’s Day, and the abominable eating of the pet rabbits, you can clearly see that there were dangerous red flags.  Why didn’t I do anything?  Think of the complexity of it all.  John was a beloved preached.  An adored father.  Women swooned over him because of the way they thought he treated me.  And, in public I was the adoring wife.

I felt like I was crazy.  I was not crazy.  I was living with a practicing pedophile — a man who continued to molest children up until the age of 63 when he was arrested.

Please don’t allow this same thing to happen again!  Pay attention and take action! Pay attention in your churches, in your schools, in your daycares, in the homes of your children’s friends, with your babysitters….just pay attention!!!!

For the sake of all of the children, please be a voice!

LAWS OF SEX ABUSE

Love,

Clara

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

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.

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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!

erins flowers 025 - cash register use this!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.

NoteNever 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.

bike trail '10 050 - troubled waters - use this!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!

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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.