May (early years part 6)

Please be warned that this post contains details about my life that some might not be interested in reading. Any post marked as personal will contain events that are just that, personal. Feel free to continue reading only if you want to hear about my life.

May 5, 1990. A nice Saturday morning, I wake up and head over my sister’s house, to spend the day with my nephew D. A couple days earlier, I was over there and had mentioned to my sister J that my sister G who was going to graduate from high school in a few weeks was going to get a car for a present, and it was going to be a surprise. She was graduating second in her class with a 4.0 GPA and top honors. J acted somewhat angry by the news, she complained that she never got a car when she graduated. I didn't expect her reaction, but I wasn't too surprised. I had learned that depending on the day, J could be either very happy, or very sad, sometimes her mood would change many times in the same day. She was just that way, and I did my best to navigate her mood swings the best I could. When she was in a bad mood, I'd invite D over to my house, when she was in a good mood, I'd spend time over there at his place.

I cut across the empty fields that separated our homes, and went inside, found D and we started playing. We were having a good time, and it was getting close to lunchtime when their phone rang, we were close to the kitchen phone so D went and answered it. It was my dad, he said, "I need to come home now." "Ok," I said, "sorry D, I have to go home, maybe we can do something later on." I went and got my shoes on and walked home. I walked in the back door, took off my shoes and walked down the hallway into the family room. My parents were sitting in the dinning nook in the kitchen right next to the family room. I knew something wasn't right but I didn't know what, they didn't look very happy, and worried. "Sit down, we need to talk", said my Dad. When my dad said we needed to talk, it was always something serious.

"Ok", I pulled out a chair and took a seat by the table. I was wracking my brains for what could be going on, or what I had done recently that could be the reason for my parents to have to call me home. He started by saying that I couldn't go back over to J's house. Oh, I thought, maybe I'm spending too much time over there, and J has complained and doesn't want to me over so much. "Alright," I replied, "what about next week, Monday? Would it be alright to go then?" He said no, you can't go over there anymore at all. Wow, this was weird, I thought, "Ok, did I do something wrong? Does J just not want me over there anymore? Can D come over to our house then and play, will that be ok?" "No. D can't come over here either, you can't see him anymore," he said. "Am I grounded, did I do something wrong? When can we play again?" You aren't grounded he explained, you didn't do anything wrong, we have some things to tell you, but we're sure that you can't go over to J's house anymore, and D won't be able to come over here.

My head was swimming, what was all this about? My thoughts were going faster and faster, and I was really torn up inside that I wasn't going to see D anymore. He was really starting change, he was so much more confident about himself. He had his own opinions on things now, (he knew to keep them to himself, or else face the fallout from that in his house, but he and I were talking about things, and he was really starting to form his own mind) and he was finally starting to act like a normal kid. He was starting to make other friends in the neighborhood, and was doing better in school. I was so happy for him, and I wanted to still be there for him, let him know that everyone's problems weren't his fault. Now I was being told I wasn't going to be able to see him. Was J noticing that D was starting to be a real kid? Was she mad that he was no longer going to be her target of blame, and that he wasn't just an empty broke shell? Was she punishing us? I knew he wasn't being treated right at home, and the only thing I could do was be there for him. (I had already told my mom a year ago, and many times since, how he was being treated, but she said she couldn't do anything about it.) Now J was taking this away from me too.

My mom was pretty much in tears at this point, and wasn't saying a thing. "Can I just ask is this about D; is it because J doesn't want me to spend any more time with D?" "No," my dad said, "I don't think it is. We're not sure completely what is going on, but it is something more than just that." "Does it have to do with J getting abused by Ross when she was little?" I asked. A little back history here: Ross used to be my Aunts husband; he rode off on his motorcycle and left my aunt alone with their kids when I was like 3. I didn't ever know him personally and or really knew my Aunt real well (they had lived in St. George for very short time, a few months at most while they were moving around), she lived in California. When I was 6, my sister J, who was living in Las Vegas at the time with her husband and 3 (I think 3 at the time) children, came forward to the family and claimed she had been sexually abused as a little girl. When my parents were raising the first 5 kids, and living in a different city, my Aunt and her husband had just been married. They needed a place to stay, so they moved in with my parents and their family. They didn't stay long with them, but apparently Ross had abused J. J didn't tell anyone about it, but was having a real hard time with her life, and was getting some therapy, and she told the family about the abuse. All my brothers and sisters fasted for a couple days, I fasted too for a day, and we had a prayer circle while J was down in Vegas. We prayed that she would be able to work through these problems, and we asked the Lord to be with her, and help her get past these memories. We prayed that she could accept what had happened that that she could do what she needed to do to either forgive her abuser, or at least be able to move on with her life and raise her family. After the family prayer circle we didn't really ever talk about J's abuse again in detail, we knew the Lord would help her, and over time, she was acting as if she was moving on.

My dad explained that yes, it did have something to do with that and other things as well. He said that a couple days before while I was at school, some police detectives had come over to the house. They were asking many strange questions, and spent an entire day taking notes and tape recording the entire conversation. They were investigating accusations that my parents used to be part of a satanic cult in Sandy, Utah back in the 60s when they lived there. They had been told that my parents took part in rituals, and were part of a child prostitution ring, torturing their children, and forced them to be part of some bad things, and that they mixed temple ceremony things into these satanic rituals. Other local church leaders in Sandy were accused to be part of it as well. They were being investigated for multiple murders in the 60s, that someone had said they saw a dead man hanging in the basement for a couple days before it was buried, and that my dad had killed a couple people in a national park one summer while they were camping there. My parents didn't go into much more detail explaining what more they had been asked by the detectives. Just that the things that they were under investigation for were terrible.

I really didn't know what to say, my brain had just exploded. I did ask, "So, the detectives were asking about all this stuff that they said happened, before I was born?" My dad answered, that it wasn't just stuff in Sandy; they were also being accused of brainwashing their grandchildren, and sexually abusing them. To which my mom said was crazy, ever since my dad had been sick back in the early 80s (recovered from cancer, story I'll share later), since then he hadn't been able to have an erection. Most of my nieces and nephews hadn't been born before that, so it was impossible for him to do what they were accusing him of doing. For some reason I wasn't quite ready to hear that my dad couldn't have an erection, it just seemed too personal and I had never thought about my parents having sex, and didn't want to be aware of this fact. Here I was hearing very crazy things that my parents were being investigated for, and I just didn't want to know that my parents couldn't have intercourse. My mom said, we told the detectives that it wasn't even possible, that these things are all lies. My parents had no clue what was going on, or why anyone would say these things about them.

I sat there for a minute and just couldn't believe what was going on. I finally said, "Well, I know nothing has happened to me like any of that growing up. I know that neither of you have ever sexually abused me. I wasn't ever tortured or beaten, or forced to do things that weren't what the church said was good to do. I can't believe anyone would say those things about you. What does this mean now, what about the rest of the family?" They told me that the detectives had said that some of their older children had come forward with these accusations but weren't at liberty to tell them who or what any of them said personally or specifically. It was obvious to my parents that based upon some of the stories that J had said happened to her as a child, that she was part of this. That based upon the accusation that grandkids were involved, that my oldest brother V was also part of this as well. The only rational explanation that they could think of was that Ross must have abused more than just J. They knew that Ross wasn't living with them when my sister C was born so she probably wasn't part of this. My brother B was living in California now, so it was doubtful that he had accused them of anything. So they thought that it was my brother V, brother A, and sister J.

My brother A and my dad used to work together every day, a couple years earlier they had had a fight, and stopped working together. I didn't know any details other than that they were no longer working together and A never came over to the house to visit them anymore. So I thought that perhaps he was still mad at my dad and that was why he might tell some lies about my parents. My sister J, well I knew that she was abused in the past by this uncle. She was always making up other stories about things she said happened to her, that I knew didn't really happen. She was a hypochondriac, and always had to have a worse story than anyone else did. I remember telling her a couple times about bad days at school and she would always tell me that she had it worse. She was always jealous and making up things, and the way she treated my nephew I wasn't surprised that she would be lying about some of these things as well. Perhaps she was starting to feel guilty about how she treated her family and all the lies she had told, and so she needed to find someone else to take the blame for everything. I didn't know why my brother V would tell lies about my parents. I knew that my Dad was quick to anger, and was always yelling, but this was just my dad and how he was. I knew that he loved me, and was just angry by having to tell me more than once how or when to do something. My dad had only spanked me twice when I was growing up, they threatened it a couple of other times, but for the most part I was always just yelled at and sent to my room when I was bad. They had told me a couple of different times when I was little, that they used to believe in spanking with the first 5 kids, and that most parents at that time thought that was how you were supposed to discipline children. They had always told me that they didn't believe that it was right to discipline like that anymore, and that the Lord didn't want children to be spanked, and that is why they raised my sister G and me differently than my older brothers and sisters. So I thought perhaps that maybe V was angry about being spanked as a child, and that was why he might be telling other lies about my parents. In the back of my head, I was trying to make sense of why this was happening, and that is what I came up with in my head. I couldn't find any reason that my nieces and nephews would have to lie about things, and I knew that they hadn't been abused by my parents as these detectives said. Anytime my nieces and nephews were around, I was always with them, always, it was my job to keep them entertained so the adults could always talk. So it must be their parents lying some more, and their kids are just caught in between.

Finally, to end the conversation they said that the detectives had told them that they were bringing in some specialists to help with the investigation from Salt Lake City. They didn't know when the specialists would be coming down, but when they did, that I would have to be interviewed by them. Sometime next week or the following week, someone might come to my school and I was supposed to go with them to answer questions. They told me that my nieces and nephews were going to have the same thing happen to them too, they were going to have to be interviewed as well. I don't remember exactly if it was that week or the next, it seems to me that it was the following week, I seem to recall a long period of time passing before they did finally come and get me. My parents said that we needed to each pray more every day, that the Lord would guide us through this. We don't know why the Lord is allowing this to happen, but he knows what is best for us, and sometimes we can't see his reasons until later. All we can do is trust in him, and not doubt that he will take care of us. No matter what happens, he knows what is best for us.

One morning before I left to go wait for the bus, my mom said that she got a phone call, and said that either today or tomorrow they'd be ready to interview me. My mom told me that if I was called to the school office that I shouldn't be concerned and that I should go and she didn't know if she or dad would be able to take me, but she would try. So all day through every class period I waited for that dreaded summons, everyone that walked by the closed classroom doors, I wondered if they were there to call me to the office. The entire day went by, no one came for me, I was relieved and frustrated, and I knew I was going to have to deal with waiting again tomorrow. I wasn't afraid of telling the truth, I knew that nothing had happened to me as the detectives had described to my parents. I was afraid that they would believe the lies that my brothers and sisters were telling them. I was afraid that these investigators wouldn't listen to me, wouldn't believe me. I knew my parents hadn't done anything, would anyone else. What was going to happen to my parents? Where was I going to live if they were taken away from me?

The next day I went to every class, again I waited and watched. During PE, we were outside playing soccer, and I heard my teacher calling my name. I looked over and there was another kid there next to him, holding a note. I knew this was it, the time had come, I walked over to my teacher and he gave me the note and said I was supposed to go to the office. I walked back into the school, went the locker room and wondered if I should take a shower, or if I had time? Would I get in trouble if I was late going to the office? I can't remember what I chose to do, shower or not, funny how I can remember thinking about the decision but I don't remember what I did, I'm inclined to say that I did take a quick shower. I do remember walking down the halls, everyone else in their classrooms. Getting close to the offices, and there standing in the doorway to the principal’s office was a police officer. I wasn't expecting a police officer, where were my parents? I walked up to the front desk and handed them my note, they told me to sit down and wait. I waited, and then the police officer finished talking, and came out, asked if I was Spot, and I said yes, and he told me to come with him. So I followed him out of the office and out into the parking lot. He opened the front passenger door to his police cruiser and I got in. He walked around and got in and sat down, buckled up, I already had my seat belt on, and he started the car. He asked if I knew where were going and why, and I told him that I was going to be asked some questions, and I knew it was about my parents. He told me I was right and then we drove off. It felt very strange riding in that car; I had always wanted to take a ride in a police car, but not like this. I was disappointed that this was going to be the time I got to ride around with a police officer. He was very nice and asked me a couple chitchat questions, but I don't remember them and I was quiet. I was wondering if he had told the principal what this was all about, I really didn't want it spread around school what was going on, I had stayed quiet and didn't want to be teased about all this too. I was hoping that no one in my PE class could see me in the police car.

I had no clue where he was actually taking me, but about 15 minutes later, we pulled in front of this building. He got out of the car, so I got out too and he took me inside. He had me take a seat while he went and talked to someone at the front desk of inside the building. I looked around quickly and didn't see anyone I knew. He came back with another person and he told me to go with this person. Off he went, and I followed this other person ( I think it was a lady) into a room, there was a desk in the corner, a few chairs along the wall near the desk, a camera on a tripod, and the room had a huge window on one wall opposite of the chairs. I was told to take a seat and that others would be joining us soon. I don't remember if it was one or two more people, I think it was a total of 3 adults and me, and a camera in the middle of the room pointed at me. I wondered if there were people in another room watching me on a TV, all taking notes and trying to detect if I was lying, but I wasn't going to lie about anything, my parents depended on me to tell the truth. They started to ask me questions about my childhood and growing up. They asked me what a typical day was like for me; some pretty random things and some specific things. I tried to look at them when they were asking me questions, and I looked at each of them when I answered. Eventually though I spent most of my time just staring out the big window across the room, at the roof of the building across the street. The roof had this old-fashioned antenna on it.

They asked me if I could tell them about the signs and symbols my parents had taught me. It was such a weird question; it is why I remember it specifically. I told them I don't understand the question. What signs and symbols, what do you mean by signs and symbols? They said it wasn't important, and started asking other questions. Then they asked me again if I had ever seen any signs and symbols in my house. I asked again, I don't understand what you are asking, what signs and symbols. They asked again; tell us about the signs and symbols. "What signs and symbols, like street signs or math symbols?" "Yes," one of them said, "Tell us about the signs and symbols." "Uh well there is a plus sign, and a divide sign, ummm." They frowned, "no, tell us about the signs and symbols." "I really want to tell you, but I'm sorry, I really don't know what you are talking about. I don't know any signs or symbols other than street signs or math symbols." This wasn't going very well, I was thinking to myself. I have no clue what they are talking about, and I don't know why they won't tell me what they are asking me about, they don’t believe me. They aren't going to believe me, why do they keep asking about these signs and symbols, do they want me to teach them math? I'm telling them the truth! I don't know what they are talking about, why don't they believe me, or at least give me some idea what specifically they are asking about.

They moved on and asked a few more questions. Finally, they said they were done, they handed me a few pieces of paper, stapled together. It was full of a bunch of questions and I had to give little ratings about how I felt it applied to me, or how I felt, or if the statement was true or false. They said I could stay there and fill out the answers, and come out when I was done. I took my time, and answered everything the best I could, one question asked if I thought I was overweight, and I answered yes. I knew I was a little fat, and there wasn't any point in lying about that, and then left the room. Out by the front desk, I saw my mom and dad sitting. I went over to them and gave them a hug. I told them I had answered all their questions and asked if I could go home yet. They said no not yet, I had to have a doctor look at me to make sure I hadn't been abused. I sat down with them and waited, and looked around. I think remember seeing some of my nieces and nephews there in the halls, but I can't be 100% sure about that, I was still upset inside that I didn't understand the questions about signs and symbols.

This lady (I think she was one of the people asking me questions, I don't remember for sure) asked if I was done with the papers, so I gave those over to her. She told me it was my choice if I wanted to be alone with the doctor, or if I wanted one of my parents to be with me. I said, “I want my dad with me, I have nothing to hide.” So they took my dad and me into this little room and we sat in there. A doctor came in and sat down across from me. He explained that I need to get undressed and that he was going to have to examine me for any signs of abuse. He said it would be just like a normal doctor visit. I said ok, I got undressed, put on the little robe thing and he checked me out. He did all the normal things a doctor would do. Then he told me that there was one more thing that he was supposed to do, but that I didn't have to do it. He said it was ok if I didn't want to do it. I asked what it was, and he told me that he was going to have to check out my butt and put his finger up my anus to see if there had ever been any sexual abuse. He again said that I didn't have to do it, if I didn't want. I said, “I don't have anything to hide, I was never abused and if this will prove it, then I want to do it. I want you to know for certain that nothing happened to me.” It was very uncomfortable, and it was over quick. I couldn't figure out why he would need to do that, what or how could that show if I had been abused.

He said nothing was wrong with me and that I was fine, and asked when the last time I had a bowel movement. He said that the veins around my anus were a little enlarged, and that it was due to me needing to have a bowel movement, but he had to be sure. He did tell me something very strange though. He said that sometimes when boys my age are a little overweight, it makes their penis look small, and that if I pulled up on my stomach a bit (and then he did) I could see that I was normal size like everyone else. This total floored me, I wasn't concerned about my penis size, and I hardly even looked at my penis. It was against the commandments and made the Holy Ghost leave if I ever touched my penis other than to pee or wash in the shower. I was a little bit angry that he would think that I looked at other boys or compared myself with them. I had just recently become a Deacon, and received the priesthood; a priesthood holder wouldn’t ever do things like that. I knew that some kids were embarrassed taking a shower at school, but I wasn't embarrassed because of showing my penis, I was embarrassed because I was fat and to me it looked like I was growing boobs. I was very weirded out that he would just assume that I thought I had a different size penis. Is this something is supposed to worry boys? I wasn't even done growing yet and I wasn't as hairy as other boys were, so there wasn't anything to be concerned about I thought. Am I supposed to be concerned by the size of my penis? I was 12, and the thought hadn't even crossed my mind until then. Was this man going to be checking out my nieces and nephews too? I didn't want them to have to go through this. I hoped he didn't tell them weird things that would worry them.

We left the little room the doctor was in, and we were told that I was done, and we could go home now. A couple of days later it was the day of my sister G's high school graduation. Dad drove her new car home and parked it outside, we went and woke her up and told her there was a surprise outside. We followed her outside, and when she saw the car, she thanked my parents for the gift, and went and sat in it, and took it for a test drive. I don't think the car was a secret; she didn't act as if it was, and really, it was pretty difficult for any of us to be very cheerful about anything, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Later that evening we got dressed up and went to her graduation. I sat through the graduation watching her and all her happy graduates around her and I felt very sad for her. I knew this wasn't how she imagined how her graduation day would go; we tried our best to focus on her special day, but overhead was this cloud of investigation that could at any moment burst forth its rain and lightning.

Continue reading: Teenage Years (part 1)