Other helpful links pertaining to the struggle of sex abuse victims of Catholic clergy

Houston area victims report - a message from Bishop Fiorenza

Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests (SNAP) 

Survivors First

Voices of Outrage

The "EveryBody" Insider
Communicating the Concerns of Black People

...And Then Some
an editorial to "One of 10,667"
By Shana Johnson
Webmaster, ETBlack.com

Dear "Father" Salisbury:

I know you are not a member of the clergy anymore, as you were released from your priestly duties after you allegedly molested a young boy in DC. But "Father" Salisbury is what I remember you as, and so this is how I chose to open my letter. I use the term only as a point of reference, not reverence! 

Over the past year or so since I learned of your actions against my family, I have struggled with a cocktail of emotions. First, I felt the deepest hurt I have ever experienced in my life. You hurt my big brother, my friend, my protector, my confidante. The sibling that I was closest to, the one who supported me no matter what, the one who challenged me intellectually as a child, a teen, a young adult, and even today as an entrepreneur, crushed me when he shared the details of your actions against him. For the sake of the family, not pride, he kept your secret for over 20 years. I hear about things like this in the news. But, this is my family now.

It hit me hard. What struggles did my brother endure over the years? How many times did this image visit him? And yet he persevered. He achieved his masters, has a successful career, a great family and has always been active in the community. In my eyes, he is a brick wall. He is a strong man. But, one day, even for this brick wall, the weight of the incident became too much to bear and he had no choice but to open up and share. What could I do to help my brother share this burden?  The second ingredient in my emotional cocktail - shock and helplessness. 

I this person is the strongest person I have ever known, and I saw first hand the effects of the abuse on him, his family, and our family as a whole... what has this done to the tens of thousands of other victims who may not have been as strong? And that was the third ingredient in my emotional cocktail - empathy.

My family was not the tightest knit in our congregation and you took advantage of that when you assaulted my brother that day under the water at our annual church picnic. You were correct in assuming he was not close enough to anyone in our family to share what happened that day. You chose your victim wisely. I used to look forward to those outings every year. We were poor and this was the only opportunity we had to go swimming in a safe environment - or so I thought it was safe. Now at age 32, I look back on those picnics with the deepest disgust and horror. I may not have been around when you assaulted my brother, and he has not shared any details with me, but I envision it as though I am standing there right now watching you and the vision torments me to the deepest corner of my heart. The fourth ingredient in my emotional cocktail - anger.

I can remember sitting on your lap at various occasions, church functions or when we welcomed you into our home. I was such a loving and trusting child. I vividly recall an Easter when I was sitting on your lap after church and I remember your bright face smiling at me as you bounced me on your leg ever so carefully. Today, I am sickened but this image to the point of nausea in having to describe the day. The next ingredient - spite.

My head pounds as I wonder what thoughts you had of me and the other children in our congregation. I was loving and trusting, true, but I was also assertive and rambunctious. No way I would keep your secret. Neither would my playmates, Lulu and Bridgette. We were too close. Surely, one would tell the other. So, you continued to scan our congregation for a proper victim. The sixth ingredient in my cocktail - betrayal.

For the past several months, I have watched in stupor the Catholic sex scandal unfolding. I have struggled with not just the Catholic faith, but the Baptist faith I embraced in 1996. Were all priests like you? Were all clergy like you? Were all men like you??? The next ingredient in my cocktail was distrust on a grand scale.

[*Note - My conversion had nothing to do with Catholicism in general. I visited a church in my area and found that I was receiving practical application of The Word along with clear and concise explanation and I aligned with that congregation, which happened to be Baptist.]

While others in the family or congregation have moved forward, I have been unable to effectively cope with my feelings until today. You couldn't possibly relate to how I feel, though, could you? It didn't happen to me, so what's the big deal? Your selfish behavior challenged the foundation of our family. Because of the bond I have with my brother, I feel his pain, literally! Maybe he has dealt with his feelings. He sure seems to have recovered emotionally. But, I have 20 years of hurt on my heart, and it came all at once. Just because you stopped molesting boys - if you have indeed stopped, the ripples of the pain you cause reach further than just your intended victims. The eighth and final ingredient - despair.

So, Walter... yes, I can call you Walter now that I have purged my thoughts. You don't deserve to be categorized with the good and loving clergy that blessed our lives over the years. Here I sit at my desk tapping out this message that you will most likely never read. And if you do ever read it, the likelihood that you will ever be able to truly relate to how I feel is little to none. Tears stream down my face as I release my most private thoughts to the internet. I imagine that right now you are sound asleep in your home in Bar Harbor as I pine over trust betrayed and faith exploited. And on the desk in front on me, I visualize the cocktail you created for me. Maybe you didn't mean to, but it is there nonetheless. A toxic by-product like so much other pollution carelessly created by self-indulging tyrants in our society today.

Unlike the toxins released into our air that we have no choice but to breathe, I choose today to destroy your toxin. Through this message, I claim liberation from the psychological shackles. Also in writing this message and choosing a constructive means to expunge my sentiments, God has blessed me with renewed faith.

I pray that you have repented for your actions. May God have mercy on your soul and give strength to the victims and the families affected by your actions. May the public grow to understand that not all clergy are predators and that you are not a reflection of all those in service to the Lord. And may all those reading this message find strength and renewal in God's love.