Ending the Silence

Listen up, Meredith

2010-12-27T19:07:00.000-08:00

I attended the February 5th hearing when arguments were heard regarding the prosecution’s motion asking the Judge to order Aaron to be examined by their psychiatric expert. The prosecution filed the motion right after the new year and a new bill, which allows the court to make such an order, took effect. So I couldn’t help but wonder if the new bill was the reason that the prosecution asked for that fishy continuance last Fall that caused the trial to be postponed until after the new year.

While the prosecution’s psychiatric expert testified in support of their motion, she made an effort to not even so much as glance in the direction of the sexual abuse victim accused of murder, and she eventually turned her back to him. She argued that she couldn’t thoroughly rebut the defense’s two psychiatric experts if she hasn’t examined Aaron herself or had an expert who she knows will “call it like he sees it” examine him. Is it that the defense’s experts aren’t calling it like they see it or that they just aren’t calling it like she’s being paid to see it?

It became clear to me, and the rest of my family, that she has already formed an opinion that aligns with the prosecution’s argument that Aaron does not have PTSD caused by the many years of sexual and psychological abuse that he has suffered. So why would she even need to examine Aaron if her opinion has already been formed? Because that is how our dysfunctional justice system works. She appears to be nothing more than a mouthpiece for the prosecution’s arguments and she will give whatever opinion that she is paid to give. So much for truth and justice.

Listening to the prosecution’s hired mouthpiece dance around the defense’s questions, for what felt like an eternity, gave me a headache and caused the bailiff to nod off. In all fairness, it may have been Assistant DA Beth Norman’s child-like temper tantrums, in response to the Judge’s reluctance to trample over Aaron’s Fifth Amendment rights, which gave me the headache. In between tantrums she appeared to be texting on her blackberry, and I wondered who was on the other end of those texts — maybe DA Meredith Lintott was texting from her Ivory Tower, or maybe it was her cold-hearted colleague, and former prosecutor on Aaron’s case, Deputy DA Jill ‘the abuse is irrelevant’ Ravitch.

At least something productive did take place: a decision was made. That has been a rare occurrence this past year as dozens of Aaron’s supporters, along with our family, have packed the courtroom for hearing after hearing. The prosecution’s hired mouthpiece will be allowed to examine Aaron, only to arrive at the already-formed opinion that she has been paid to give. A couple of questions Mendocino County residents should be asking are, “How much are we paying her to give that opinion?” and “Should we vote DA Meredith Lintott out of her Ivory Tower this June?”

Mindy Galliani
SaveAaron.com

Saving Aaron

2010-12-27T19:01:00.001-08:00

On February 8, 2009, I received a phone call tell ing me my nephew, Aaron Vargas, had been arrested for killing Darrell McNeill. Of course my first response was disbelief followed by shock and more disbelief. Not possible, not Aaron. Aaron is kind, gen tle, and caring. Then of course came the “why”? If what I’m being told is true, then why? What could possibly make this kind, gentle, caring person kill?

It is now February 10, 2010 and that is one of the questions I’ve been thinking about for 367 days. As the story has unfolded the answers to some questions have been immensely devastating. I learned that Darrell was a pedophile. Pedophile is the wrong word, let me rephrase, Darrell raped children. Darrell pre tended to be a good father to Aaron’s friend, Michael. Darrell pretended to be a nice neighbor. Darrell pre tended to be an upstanding citizen, a “Big Brother,” a Boy Scout leader. Darrell pretended to care for chil dren in order to prey upon them. Darrell, who cared so much for his “little brother,” was the cause of that “little brother’s” eventual suicide. Darrell began molesting — no, molesting is the wrong word — Darrell began raping Aaron when Aaron was eleven years old. Eleven. Take a moment to remember your self at eleven. What were you like? What did you think? How did you feel? At eleven did you have much life experience? Aaron was eleven, Darrell was in his forties. Aaron was not Darrell’s first victim, nor was he his last.

Darrell was good at what he did.

After Aaron’s arrest many boys came forward in support of Aaron, telling of the abuse they’d endured by Darrell. In some instances it was the first time they’d ‘told’. In others it was not, they had told before, some had reported it to the police. These boys, I call them boys but they are now men in their thirties and forties, were brave enough to disclose and nothing was done. No investigation — Darrell wasn’t even approached let alone questioned. Nothing.

The days and weeks following Aaron’s arrest were days and weeks of our family continually asking our selves, “how did we not know?” How was it possible that we had failed Aaron so miserably? The continual conversations with each of us saying, “I should have known.” Why didn’t we? Why didn’t we see it? Why didn’t we know? Seeing the pain and sadness in Aaron’s parents, in my parents, and knowing the heartbreak and despair we all felt at not doing our job, not protecting our loved one. These haunting ques tions led me to research child abuse and the things I learned broke my heart yet again. I learned that the abuser is most likely to be a trusted family friend or a family member. I learned one in four girls and one in six boys are sexually abused before the age of 18. That 70% of child abusers have between one and nine vic tims. That 20% have 10 to 40 victims. That an aver age serial abuser can have as many as 400 victims. That over 30% of victims never disclose the experi ence to ANYONE, and of those who do disclose, 75% do it accidentally. Is there comfort in knowing that our family is not alone in not knowing? No. None at all.

Learning these things and realizing the “stranger danger” that I taught my children would be of little use in most situations led to my panicked phone call to my son, who is away at Graduate school. Asking him point blank, “Have you ever been sexually abused?” A sigh of relief when he responded that he hadn’t, the surprise when he asked me the same ques tion. Thinking yes, he is right, according to the statis tics it needs to be a conversation that everyone has no matter parent or child. Then remembering that 30% never disclose leads me to ask again and again to ensure that his response was truthful.

Later it hit me, what if he had said yes? What if my daughter had said yes? What if the answer had been yes, and a friend or family member that I loved and trusted was named, what would I do? In that moment I knew. In that moment I realized that I could kill. Me, a person who has never intentionally killed anything, not even bugs. Me, the person who catches and releases any insects I find in my home. Me, the law-abiding, rational person I thought myself to be, realized that I could kill.

I don’t know exactly what happened the night of February 8, 2009. From what I do know Aaron didn’t go to Darrell’s with the intent of killing him. But if he had I now understand. I understand it is possible for a good person to kill.

In these last 367 days some questions have been answered, but many others have arisen. Why didn’t the police investigate? How is it possible that we as a society allow one in four girls and one in six boys to be sexually abused? How could the Deputy DA on Aaron’s case even utter the words describing the abuse testimony as “self-serving” and “irrelevant”? Why are there so many abusers in our society? How does a person become so messed up that they can rape children? Why does our justice system not work? Why is the DA so intent on sending Aaron to prison for 50-years-to-life, knowing Darrell’s family is sup porting him? How do we stop all forms of child abuse? How do we protect every child?

During these 367 days Aaron’s sister, Mindy, has been tirelessly working on his behalf. She started a website called SaveAaron.com, which provides infor mation on Aaron’s case and on recognizing and pre venting child abuse. She’s contacted numerous media organizations trying to get the word out, and she has organized several fundraisers. She’s told me of the many, many people who’ve contacted her and shared their own stories of abuse and who write to Aaron. Tirelessly she is working to bring her brother home, to raise awareness, to protect every child. She is working hard to end the silence of child abuse, and I wonder, why aren’t we all?

Rhonda Wilson

Mendo Justice Failed Vargas

2010-12-27T18:59:00.000-08:00

Letters to the Editor on Jun 21st, 2010

Judge Ronald Brown has put his stamp of approval on child rapists in Fort Bragg and beyond. He has sent a message to all victims of child rape to shut up and take it like a big boy/girl. The arrogance and ignorance of law enforcement is criminal itself.

To those of you who have stated that Judge Brown is a hanging judge, you are correct, and I apologize for doubting. You cannot receive justice from law enforcement. They are here for the pedophiles. They did not bother to check serial child rapist Darrell McNeill’s two computers for child porn. Great job Sgt. Van Patten, you deserve a gold medal for your work on behalf of pedophiles.

We must end the silence. We must protect children in any way possible. We thank you Aaron for protecting your Josie – so beautiful and precious. We stand with you Aaron. We miss your presence and you will always have us in love.

Linda Vargas
Aaron’s Grandmother
SaveAaron.com

Van Patten’s “Attack” on Vargas

2010-12-27T18:57:00.000-08:00

Letters to the Editor on May 28th, 2010

I have been an advocate for my brother, Aaron Vargas, since learning that he is a victim of sexual abuse. Sexual abuse victims from all over the world have shared their stories with me. As difficult as those stories are to read, they are far more difficult for the victims to share. Some tell me that I am not only speaking out for Aaron, but for them as well, which is why I feel compelled to address the statements that Sgt. Van Patten made on 20/20.

Van Patten attacked Aaron, and survivors of abuse everywhere, by stating that Aaron and his abuser had a consensual relationship that may have gone sour over the molestation. Not only is that statement ignorant and absurd, it is beyond insulting to victims and their families. It is like stating that a woman who stays in an abusive relationship is consenting to the abuse. If Aaron had gone to the police anytime in adulthood and reported McNeill, I’d imagine that McNeill would have either denied ever abusing Aaron, or he would have stated the same thing as Van Patten – that it was a consensual relationship. If there is such a thing as an afterlife, I’d imagine McNeill is feeling thankful to Van Patten for being his voice and advocate by telling the “other side” of this story.

On another note, I would like to acknowledge the strength and bravery of the men who told their stories of abuse on national television, and also Jamie Specie’s family for telling Jamie’s heartbreaking story. I would like to thank everyone in the community, and beyond, who have been so amazing and supportive. I want abuse survivors to know that there is help out there, and there are people who understand. I have listed several resources on SaveAaron.com.

Mindy Galliani

An open letter to Judge Ron Brown

2010-12-24T20:31:00.000-08:00

Open letter to Judge Ronald Brown,

Sometime in the mid 1990’s I received a phone call, out of the blue, from a former high school friend. Her name is _______ now, when we were in school her last name was _____. She told me she was going to be in town and asked if we could get together. We made arrangements to meet at my house and I was looking forward to seeing her. We’d lost touch shortly after graduation, when she moved out of town. After hanging up the phone I started thinking about her and the times we’d spent together. I remember going to the movies, driving around town, talking about boys and friends, the normal teenage stuff. But I also had a particularly vivid memory of going to her house to pick her up, I don’t remember where we were going, the movies maybe, nothing too exciting. As we were leaving her Mom said she needed to ask her step-dad’s permission, (his name is ________) so we stopped outside her house and she spoke with him through the open garage door. I was a little ahead of her on the path and could see them both while they were talking. She asked his permission and it was granted. Nothing in the situation was memorable except the body language and attitude that they both exhibited. She seemed angry and withdrawn but it was more than that, her posture changed and to this day I still don’t have words to describe the vibe I got from him as he looked, but not quite looked at her and became still, not angry, not passive, not overtly authoritarian but there was something there, something unspoken. Which is why I remember it so vividly, it confused and bothered me and I could not understand why.

When she arrived at my house we did the usual catching up. Talked of our lives since school. We were having a nice conversation until I asked about her family. She told me her Mom had divorced her step-dad and had moved out of town. Her older brother had moved out of state. I asked how her step-dad was and if he still lived in town. She said he did (in fact he still lives in Fort Bragg, 288 Wall street to be exact) but she’s had no contact with him since she moved. I asked why and that’s when she told me that he began raping her when she was five years old and continued to do so for the next ten years. He also repeatedly raped her older brother, ______. She didn’t think he’d raped her younger brother, his son, but she wasn’t sure. As she told me these things my mind went back to the memory of her asking permission to go to the movies, it all made sense now. The horror of it hit me. I witnessed a teenage girl asking permission, permission to go to the movies, not from the man that loved and protected her, but from the man that began raping her when she was just five years old. OH MY GOD.

The horror did not stop there. She told me when she learned he had remarried and there were children in his house she called the authorities and told them what he was. The response she received was “there is nothing we can do”. She was told that in order for them to do anything they would have to hear that a child was being abused now.

That’s right, unbelievable as it may seem, another child must be sacrificed before they would do anything. It didn’t matter to them what she had suffered, it didn’t matter what her brother had suffered. The truth did not matter.

I found that to be utterly senseless and irrational, the very definition of insane. I’m sure they sympathized with her but there was nothing they could do. I’ve never heard of sympathy for victims actually stopping a pedophile, have you?

Since then I’ve spent many sleepless nights thinking about ____, trying to think of a way to stop him. Knowing this monster walks freely and unaccountable has been agonizing. Knowing he lives one block from Redwood Elementary School and two blocks from Dana Gray Elementary is horrifying. Knowing at this very moment he may be abusing a child is tormenting.

When I heard of Darrell’s McNeill’s death on February 8, 2009 and it became apparent he was a serial pedophile I thought of ____ and wondered how many more are out there? I also realized my own culpability. In the words of author Derrick Jensen “acquiescence is participation.” I participated by doing nothing.

Why had I done nothing? I felt powerless, helpless. If the authorities wouldn’t listen to _______ they certainly wouldn’t listen to me. Words and phrases such as “alleged”, “hearsay”, “statute of limitations”, “proven in a court of law”, “day in court” ran through my mind and I knew I wouldn’t be listened to because I wasn’t the victim and I knew the victims themselves aren’t listened to, aren’t heard, are told “there is nothing we can do”. Which is the very reason Darrell and ______ are allowed to continue abusing children for decades.

As I sat in your courtroom for Aaron Vargas’ sentencing hearing, I thought of the previous 16 months of hearings. Of which, can only be described as surreal and schizoid. Always blatant attacks upon Aaron’s character, never Darrell’s. Six feet tall Darrell continually described as “a little old man”. Jill Ravitch describing the abuse Aaron suffered as ‘self-serving and irrelevant’. I heard Beth Norman insinuate Aaron should have moved out of town, even after she learned he had, and knowing whenever he did Darrell found him. I thought of ______. If she had shot her abuser would she also be treated this way? She had moved to escape her abuser but it also took her away from her support system, from her community, from the people who truly loved and cared for her. She was not safe in Fort Bragg, but her abuser is.

I sat and listened to Beth Norman say “he’s not here, is he?” Insinuating Darrell would tell a different story than what she was hearing. This was a man who had spent his life raping children. If he had thought that wrong or immoral who couldn’t have done it. Did she honestly think he’d say anything different than what they were saying for him? “It was a consensual relationship.”

** “In order to escape accountability for his crimes, the perpetrator does everything in his power to promote forgetting. Secrecy and silence are the perpetrator's first line of defense.”

Or did she not believe the letters, the signed declarations, and the testimony of the victims? Did she not believe the truth? I have to admit it’s much easier to not believe. It’s so much easier to deny the existence of these abusers, to think of it as alleged, than to accept the reality that not only are they out there, the ‘law’ does nothing about them until they are caught in the act. This is a fact abusers are well aware of.

Or was she just “doing her job”? If so, it answers the question posed by Mindy Galliani, “does doing your job mean checking your humanity at the door?”

As I sat in your courtroom I heard the heartbreaking testimony of John and Todd, two victims who found their voices after years and years of silence, and reported Darrell to the police. One report made in 1990, the other in 2001. I vividly recalled John standing outside the courthouse after one of the first hearings, saying over and over again “this never should have happened, this never should have happened, we told the police, Aaron shouldn’t be here, it shouldn’t have been left to Aaron, we told the police”. The look on his face, the pain, the sorrow, the anger, the depth of that moment is indescribable and unforgettable.

I heard the testimony of Dr. Apostle who described in detail the damage abuse does to children. How children become withdrawn, isolated, the feelings of being different, alone, the lack of trust, the shame, the responsibility the children feel, the interruption of the maturation process, the self harm to localize the pain, the learned helplessness. He also described Aaron’s mental conditions of P.T.S.D., symptoms of Stockholm syndrome, depressive disorder and child sexual abuse disorder and his problems with alcohol. All these things a direct result of the abuse Darrell inflicted upon him. Darrell introduced all his victims to alcohol and drugs, to lower their defenses, to make it easier to abuse them.

“This is most apparent in the way traumatized people alternate between feeling numb and reliving the event.”

These are the feelings the pedophile instills in children to control and manipulate them. The pedophile uses the child’s innocence and vulnerability against him. He whispers to the child “you like it”, “you want it”, “I love you”, “this is love”, “it’s our secret” “no one will believe you”, “this is what people do”. For all those boys and girls and all these years there was no voice to counter Darrell’s.

Sitting behind me in your courtroom were Jamie Species’ brother and sister. You remember him right? He was Darrell’s “little brother”. Another victim. The boy who took his own life after Darrell attempted to get at him again. Jamie’s words to his sister when she urged him to go to the police “I don’t want to be labeled” rang in my ears while the probation officer echoed Sgt Van Patten’s sentiments, sure Aaron was abused by Darrell but it was now a “consensual relationship gone sour.” I wondered. Darrell began abusing Aaron when he was eleven, so when exactly did it become consensual? When Aaron was 12? 15? The magical age of adulthood: 18? And if the abuse Aaron suffered was consensual, that meant _____’s was also. So when did hers become consensual? When she was 6? 10? 12? 15?

The probation officer reiterated what every abuser tells his victims “it’s your fault”.

I realized police officers are nothing more than historians. Always appearing after the fact. After the damage is done. Interpreting the events, as so much of history is interpreted, through the lens of their own reality, their own experience, the experience of grown men who carry guns. Certainly not the experience of these abused children.

As I sat in your courtroom during the sentencing hearing my hope grew. I heard the testimony of so many, I saw the pain the victims still suffer. And I thought maybe, just maybe, you were actually hearing it too. Maybe, just maybe you were able, for a moment, to put yourself in Aaron’s shoes. To imagine what it must feel like to be abused, to be controlled and be forcefully taught learned helplessness. Maybe, just maybe you could imagine the scene, three days prior to his arrest, when Aaron sat with Darrell’s son and stepson and heard, unequivocally of their abuse and admitted his own. The silence Darrell had so violently instilled in him had finally ended.

“Remembering and telling the truth about terrible events are prerequisites

both for the restoration of the social order and for the healing of individual victims”

My thoughts returned to _______ and her response when I asked her, how’s your brother? “He won’t talk about it”, she said. When she said it I didn’t understand the look on her face, now I do. She knew he couldn’t heal from it because he couldn’t speak of it.

“The ordinary response to atrocities is to banish them from consciousness. Certain violations of the social compact are too terrible to utter aloud: this is the meaning of the word unspeakable.”

And still I hoped you could comprehend what it must have been like for Aaron to suddenly realize the extent of the damage Darrell had inflicted upon him and so many others. I hoped you knew that learned helplessness is only overcome by the ability to recognize the source of the problem as being outside oneself. I hoped you could imagine what it must be like to confront one’s abuser. I hoped you could imagine how the abuser would respond when confronted.

“If secrecy fails, the perpetrator attacks the credibility of his victim. If he cannot silence him absolutely, he tries to make sure that no one listens. To this end, he marshals an impressive array of arguments, from the most blatant denial to the most sophisticated and elegant rationalization. After every atrocity one can expect to hear the same predictable apologies: it never happened; the victim lies; the victim exaggerates; the victim brought it on himself; and in any case it is time to forget the past and move on. The more powerful the perpetrator, the greater is his prerogative to name and define reality, and the more completely his arguments prevail.”

I hoped you’d understand the fact that all these things were happening just when Aaron’s life had changed the most. He was no longer seeing the world through the eyes of an abused and powerless child, he was now looking through the eyes of a parent. He had just become a parent to a beautiful baby girl. The baby girl Darrell offered to “baby-sit.”

I hoped you would compare the behavior both exhibited. Darrell spent his life raping, controlling, manipulating and silencing children. He did anything and everything to hide his crimes. Aaron on the other hand after committing his ‘crime’ immediately assured Darrell’s wife that she had nothing to fear, he wouldn’t hurt her. To reassure her he dissembled the gun and left it on the counter. He then drove to his parents home, told them he had shot Darrell, told them of the abuse he had endured and said he was sorry, sorry for the shock and pain they were now feeling. He then walked down their driveway and gave himself up to law enforcement.

According to the probation officer, Tim King, these events were Aaron’s “attempt to hide his (now consensual) relationship with Darrell.” Thus he was recommending a sentence of 21 years.

“When the victim is already devalued (a woman, a child), he may find that the most traumatic events in his life take place outside the realm of socially validated reality…”

Knowing the ‘justice system’ is comprised of people, just people. Some, more intelligent than others. I hoped you were one of the more intelligent ones. I also hoped you were a person who recognized the law for what it is, merely a social construct originally based on rules of proper conduct and concepts of natural justice.

“... when the traumatic events are of human design, those who bear witness

are caught in the conflict between victim and perpetrator. It is morally impossible to remain neutral in this conflict.”

When you returned from the 10-minute recess with your decision (kudos’, by the way, for being able to make your decision and write up all those pages explaining it in just 10 minutes). I heard you say words and phrases such as ‘intent’, ‘sending the wrong message’, ‘violence encourages violence’ all these words to justify your sentencing of Aaron to nine years in prison. It was apparent whom you viewed as the victim in these incredibly sad and tragic circumstances. Even dead you proved Darrell to be more important than Aaron, more important than any of Darrell’s victims, more important than the children of our community, the ones that are now safe because of Aaron’s actions. You reiterated what Darrell had taught them by his words and actions. “I am more important than you.”

Aaron did what the ‘system’ cannot do. He did what any desperate parent would do. He protected his daughter before the damage was done.

“The perpetrator's arguments prove irresistible when the bystander faces them in isolation. Without a supportive social environment, the bystander usually succumbs to the temptation to look the other way.”

The one thing I know to be true, an absolute, is the fact that the right thing to do is never the easiest thing to do. This is something Aaron knows much better than I.

In regards to _______ I did the easy thing, I did nothing. Now I realize I did nothing because I was unable to overcome my own learned helplessness. The learned helplessness instilled in me by the ‘justice system’. This system had taught me the unspoken and clearly unexamined premise: if the law is unable to do anything about him, that I did not have the right, or the authority to do anything about him, that I am powerless.

This realization means nothing, will be of no help, when one of _____’s victims comes to me and says, “You knew. You knew what he was. You knew the truth, why didn’t you stop him. Why didn’t you protect me?”

So now that you, an elected official, a person of power and authority, an employee of the justice system, knows of ______ and his crimes, what are you going to do? How are you going to protect our children before the damage is done?

Ending the silence,

Rhonda Wilson

**Excerpts from Trauma and Recovery by Judith Herman, M.D.

cc: Pedophile - hand delivered