(This post contains graphic and appallingly disgusting information. This is a trigger warning.)
As my frequent readers know, I was a member of the Mormon “church” for thirty years. I became a Catholic in 2022 and formally left the former for the latter a few months ago. Today on X, there’s a thread about child sex abuse and how the Mormon “church” handles it as opposed to how they handled it in years past.
I have some experience with the subject matter in the Mormon “church.” Many years ago, back in 2003, when I lived not in Albany, but in another state altogether, I was roaming the halls, taking attendance during sacrament meeting. Pretty much all of the classrooms’ doors were open, except for one. I found that to be odd, so I peeked in the window so I could make sure I got everyone.
To my shock, an older man who was a High Priest was with a little girl who was maybe five or six. He was hugging her and her panties were down to her ankles. I personally saw him touch her vagina and he rubbed his fingers around it, almost penetrating her. Maybe he did penetrate her. I wasn’t watching the goings-on that closely. Again, I was in shock that he would be so bold. It was disgusting.
Of course, I was amazed that this was happening in “church.” The girl did not look happy at all. She looked at me with a pitiful look, and it looked as if she was paralyzed with fear, probably looking to me to help her. Also, I heard what sounded like soft whimpering and a little bit of tears.
Now, I stood there, watching, frozen with surprise. His back was to me and I watched for about thirty seconds while I decided what to do. I finally decided that I’d had enough and I walked away. I chose to make it someone else’s problem. If I’d been in a position of authority, I likely would have acted, but I was merely a rank-and-file member. And, to be honest, I simply didn’t give a flying handshake.
I could have intervened. I didn’t. I could have gone on the stand and grabbed one of the members of the bishopric, three men who hold authority over their ward (parish). No, I chose to keep on going about my day. Back then, church lasted three hours. So when the second hour came, I had finished my duties and attended classes as assigned.
As for the girl, I saw her walking the halls and she just looked sad as a puppy without a treat. She was old enough to tell someone on her own, but she did not, so I dismissed thoughts of getting involved. No shame. No shame.
There were so many things that I could have and maybe should have done, but I chose to leave it alone. A few weeks later, the same situation arose. I saw that closed door and knew instantly that he was at it again. And he was.
She was in tears. Again, I walked away. I didn’t confront him. I didn’t tell anyone. This is the first time I’ve ever told anyone in public or private before. I’m risking a lot putting this out there. A lot of people will judge me for not reporting what I saw, but I don’t care.
Why did I choose to do nothing? Because I simply didn’t care. I didn’t care then and I don’t care now. I have to wonder what she did to make what happened occur. I felt that it didn’t involve me in any way.
At the time, I helped with attendance and at the same time, I served as a Young Single Adults representative for the ward. That was as close as I ever got to holding any sort of authority.
With that in mind, I merely point out that because I was not a leader, I was under no obligation to act. I didn’t tell the bishopric. I didn’t tell the High Priest leader. I didn’t call the police. I did nothing and I have no regrets.
Now, I don’t know if he kept doing it as she got older or what. I wound up moving out of that ward and I moved back to Las Vegas in that same year.
The girl in question is now a woman who is around 27 years old. I don’t know if she ever reported it or if she too kept quiet. If she so chooses, she can, under that state’s laws, report it for many more years. Frankly, I never lost any sleep over it and I’m not losing sleep now. It was never my obligation to report anything.
As for the man in question, I don’t know if anything happened or if he’s even still alive. I vaguely remember his face and I think I remember his name. I probably couldn’t pick him out of a lineup.
Both times that I witnessed the touching, his back was to me, so I don’t think he ever knew that I knew. But I chalked what he was doing up to bros before hoes, and even to this day, I haven’t reported it. It happened too long ago. Why do it now? Why punish him for something that happened so long ago? That would be cruel.
If I could go back in time, would I have walked in and put a stop to it? Would I have reported him? No and no. It was never my problem.
Let me be clear: be careful if you decide to do what I did. Your state’s laws may require you to report something like what happened to that girl. Be on top of that before you get yourself in trouble.
The laws of the state where it happened did, at the time, not require me to do anything as I was not and am not a mandated reporter. And even if I failed to act under law, the statute of limitations for that has long since expired. That’s why I published this article with no fear. I suppose she could come at me with a civil lawsuit, but good luck with that one.
As for that guy, I can’t fathom doing anything even close to what he did, but, as we all know, there are two sides to every story, no matter how disgusting that that story may be.
I don’t know what she did to invite him to do what he did, but hopefully, since she was too cowardly to speak up, she brushed herself off and wrote what happened to her off as the consequence of what was probably flirtatious behavior, or something else that she did to wake up the feelings within him.