Justice-The Pen is Mightier.

Hey, world.

Would you do a TV show about the effects of a celebrity’s assault on an average person?

Let me tell you my story.

I was 17 and had just graduated from high school and had to move across the country with my parents because of the job market.

I had planned to work for a year and then go to college. The economy was unstable and despite being offered several scholarships the transfer with my family seemed like the best idea.

I got a job about 2 miles from home at a store and rode my bicycle to work every day. I was the only person under 40 years old working there and since I wasn’t in school I knew no one in the community. The older workers sort of took me under their wings and taught me a lot about working in the retail industry.

I had been there a few months when a man came into the store and began looking through the books/magazines. I was putting away merchandise near my register. He seemed agitated or intoxicated, maybe on drugs. I went about my task and a few moments later looked up to see him standing at the register. So I went over to check him out.

He screamed at me, “Don’t you know who I am?” Honestly, I didn’t, he looked vaguely familiar but working in a store you see hundreds of people a day. I took the paperback and checked the price so I could ring it up, he proceeded to swipe his hand across the counter and knock off several items on display. ******

And he sneered at me as if to say, ‘What are you going to do about it?’. 

Shocked, I took a couple of steps back and stared at him. Then I reached for the phone/intercom in order to call the manager. He swatted that from my hand. Pissed off now, I said, “What do you think you're doing? You better get out I’m calling the cops” I reached under the counter to pick up the scissors that were there and the only possible tool I had for self-defense. 

He swore at me, picked up the book without paying, and walked out.

I was half scared and half angry when I told the manager what had just happened. Then he walked back in with the book. My manager recognized him right away. “Yeah," he said as if justified, "your little cashier didn’t charge me for the book.” He put a 5 down and left again.

My manager said, “Just ring it up, don’t you know who that is?"

Now if that was the end of the story it would be oh ok —like what a jerk-- but so what? But it's not the end of the story.

Now, not recognizing people is an ongoing life issue for me, I have a few odd problems not quite under any label. I was a premature baby and later placed for adoption. I get lost easily and don’t recognize people very well, I have some speech problems. I had been tested over and over as a child and they really didn’t know why I had some issues. But overall I did well in school. 

Anyway, I mention this because when he came back to the store a few weeks later I didn’t recognize him right away again either from the incident or his fame status. He came up and apologized for his previous behavior. So it took a few minutes for me to realize this was the famous musician who had thrown a temper tantrum a few weeks ago. But then I said, “Oh. ok”. I didn’t mean it really but said it to get him to go away. I didn’t feel like talking to him but as a cashier, it wasn’t like I could just leave.

 He said you want my autograph?“ I didn’t even though I had sort of liked his music before. I didn’t say anything and sort of shrugged. I don’t give autographs he snapped and he called me a bitch. 

I was getting stressed out big time now and stepped away. He called me a whore and said suck me. He walked out again.

I was shaking and hoping that was the end of my brush with the rich and famous.

But the manager came running up all excited, “Was that so and so again?” "Yea he is an asshole”, I said. She laughed and looked out the window hoping for a glimpse.

Now apparently one of his “people” was in the store still and had been the whole time. He had been looking at the greeting cards and came over and introduced himself as Soandso’s assistant. My manager said cool and went back to the rear of the store. 

I said nothing and the man eventually left.

A few days later I got a call from my parent's house. It was the celebrity. "I heard you called me an asshole the other day." "How did you get my number." "Am I an asshole? I'm going to rape you bitch there is nothing you can do about it.”

I hung up and was shaking. I called my Mom at work and told her everything. I don’t think you really need to worry she said. It's someone playing a joke on you. 

I hung up the line with my Mom, I was alone in the house; it was my day off. I thought about calling my Dad too.

I tried his work number but he was on another line. 

I sat and rationalized it. Why would anyone bother to harass me or threaten me just for calling them an asshole? I mean really it was just probably a sick joke and I should not worry. It probably wasn’t even really him on the phone. I mean seriously. 

That's the thing, non-narcissistic people fail to understand how far an evil person will go because it is not rational. It is sort of a game for them.

They enjoy terrorizing people. Maybe they are bored needing more excitement, maybe warped sensibilities from years of drugs and life in the rock and roll world? 

I don’t know.

All I know is I was scared. I called the number for the police and tried explaining to the officer on the line. They told me I was going to get charged for making a false claim if I called back and then hung up on me.

Ok maybe I was overreacting and all the grown-ups are right so just forget about it.

I thought some more and wanted to get my best friend's advice from back home, 1500 miles away. I called her number and her mom answered. I asked for my friend. "She’s at school," said her mom surprised. My friend was a year behind, still a high school senior. "Oh yeah, I forgot it's the middle of the day." "Is everything ok?" her mom asked. "How do you like it there?” I hesitated. I had a good relationship with my friend’s mom, she was always someone I could trust. “Oh, it's different here for sure, a big city. Sometimes get some scary guys in at the store.” Well, I’ll tell M you called” and she hung up. Well, obviously my friend’s mom wasn't in the mood to actually hear anything.

Ok so do I really have a problem here? I felt like I did, I mean if nothing else I was shaken up a lot.

People can’t go around threatening other people. 

How the hell did he get my number? I guess he could have found out my last name from anyone at work and my first name was on my name tag. We are listed in the phone book. I felt really stupid. I decided to go for a bike ride to get out of the house and calm down.

The phone rang again. 

Hello.

Hello, who is this? I said.

I am your father. 

Dad! I tried to call you, there was this man who came in at work and….

I am not your Dad, I am your real father, the one who allowed your mother to put you up for adoption.

Silence from me and confusion. Is this the celebrity from the store? It sounded like him.

What? I said.

I am calling you to introduce myself.

In the stress of the day, I was somehow confused and thought this was the man who had come into the store. It sounded just like him.

I.. I have to go on a bike ride.

I am your father.

(Darth Vader? What? I had recently seen the new Empire Strikes Back movie) I was super confused and stressed now.

Who is this????

To this day the sequence of events is jumbled. I don’t know much, bits and pieces of memory come back and I try to work it out and sort out the narrative into some sort of logical sense.

I was convinced somehow, probably not then but later, that my birth father was this musician who had come into the store and was angry I hadn’t recognized him. It would take 40 years to really sort it out. 

Here is what I remember, the man on the phone who said he was my birth father did sound just like the other man, the musician.

I did go on a bike ride and a car began following me. I took a bunch of turns and shortcuts and after a long sweaty time was sure I had lost them.

At home, I checked the doors, and house and took a shower. I was tired. I lay down and fell asleep.

I woke up from deep sleep to the doorbell, I was groggy and automatically went to the door and opened it.

The man, the musician, stepped in and had a handkerchief over my face in an instant.

I woke up in a hotel room. I had been raped. He was there. Wouldn’t have guessed you were a virgin he said to me.

I was very groggy.

You're my Father?

You want to play Daddy huh?

What?

My body was numb and my mind was very foggy.

Get out whore I am done with you.

He picked up a phone and called for someone

Get this whore out of my room, she is stalking me.

I found myself outside in a part of town I had never been, a busy downtown place, big skyscraper buildings, a fancy mall and hotels.

I wandered around confused.

I went into the mall. People passed by and stared into my face.

I found the restroom.

I looked in the mirror and recognized that I looked dazed.

So then, I found mall security. I said I need help. He walked away.

Some women walked by and asked if I was ok.

I said no, I don’t know how I got here. I want to call my Mom. They gave me some coins.

I called my Mom’s work she wasn't there, she took the day off to look for her daughter they said.

I called home. 

Diane, where are you?

I don’t know

Soandso said you had followed him to his hotel

No, I don’t know what happened.

Where are you I will come to get you?

I'm at a mall.

Which mall?

The women who had given me the coins were nearby watching, 

what mall is this I asked

I don’t remember the ride home I don’t remember anything but waking up in my room at home.

Whore are you telling people I raped you?

On the phone again why? Your mother better shut up I know people that would do something.

Yeah, nobody cares he said he laughed yeah your dad wants to play golf with me, dig. So shut up before something worse happens to you.

I was still in a fog from whatever drug was used.

I had no idea how many days had passed.

I disassociated.

My friend from back home called. She sounded so young. So innocent. What's going on? She asked.

I didn't tell her.

I felt old and dirty.

I didn’t want to poison her by telling her what happened.

****

What story did he tell them, my parents? For whatever reason, they didn’t pursue it. He threatened their lives to me and I said nothing more about it.

I don’t know when or how I went back to work.

I don’t know when my actual birth father called back and I yelled at him for something and he said he would never speak to me again. I hadn’t found out his name. 

I don’t know when one of the Soandsos people called to offer me a settlement I said I will not take his money I want JUSTICE. They made more threats.

He called me; Mr. Sosandso called again and said he would destroy me and said that I should have taken the money because I am a whore.

I told him I will wait for justice and God is on my side and he will be exposed for what he is.

After all, I was 17 and was invincible….

I don’t know, maybe he moved on to new victims maybe he figured too many people had heard my story but he left me alone then. But still tries to contact me off and on for 40 years to remind me to shut up.

I fell into a dark dark place in my mind from that time forward. It's weird because he actually had been a musician I respected for his messages in his music. I had no one to talk to about it all. I was scared and confused. He said he knew mobsters. I believed him and he likely does. I tried talking to my Mom about it and she suggested we “let it go”. 

Let it go.

You can’t go back to normal, you can’t be the person you were. And in 1979 women got blamed for anything bad that happened to them.

I was still legally a child but-- so what. 

NO ONE CARED.

I began experiencing intermittent rages. 

I began living in daydream land (as I called it) totally removed from reality.

I was scared to be in that store too.

I was scared.

I began hearing people randomly calling me a whore.

My parents sent me to a therapist, I was diagnosed with depression. I quit my job and cried a lot.

The next several years were tough.

I lost touch with my old friends.

I tried drugs.

I drank a lot.

I lived celibate and everywhere I went I heard people, strangers calling me a whore.

My Mom told me I should try working again, I got a job delivering newspapers to office buildings in the early mornings. My Mom got up at 3 am every day and helped me.

I tried full-time school at the prestigious college where I got a scholarship but I flunked out. The words of the textbooks were too bright and I couldn’t remember any of them for the tests.

Guys wanted to go out with me and I pushed them out of my life. A man I liked wanted to get married. I told him I wasn’t going to get married. We broke up. 

I took one class at a community college and passed it.

A man I liked wanted to have sex with me and I broke up with him. I lived celibate. It had been over 5 years and I was going nowhere in life. I still lived with my parents. I didn’t want to leave them.

I went to school or work and came home. 

I heard everyone calling me a whore over and over.

I did not make new friends not for very long.

I was embarrassed to be living with my parents still. Some friends I grew up with were doing great with their lives, I felt they were looking down on me, judging me. They didn’t know what had happened. 

I kept taking community college classes until I had almost 80 credits then I decided to transfer to a state school to live on campus and give my parents a break. I was 24. 

After a year there a man began following me around. I kept hearing him and teachers calling me a whore. I complained to a school therapist. They seemed annoyed with me. 

My roommate asked if I was ok, did I ever eat?

I don’t think I ever ate except candy bars I bought at the store I was working at.

I went to class and work, I walked five miles around the school track, I signed up to volunteer at a crisis line. Thought maybe I would become a psychologist.

I didn’t have any social life. I didn’t date. People seemed to like me at work, at the crisis line. I don’t know.

This guy at school kept following me and I got scared. So I quit my school, quit volunteering at the crisis line, and quit my job.

I went back to my parent's house, I was 26. 

I remembered high school military recruiters and thought maybe that's a way I could redeem myself, make my parents and friends proud. Learn to be tough, to fight, and not ever be anyone’s victim again.

So I did. I signed up and thought that man will not ever find me again.

But he did.