It was a very very emotional, traumatic, and dramatic year. I began my senior year in high school, my grades were boringly low. I was listed as an average student. It was 1972.

I had met Kim around my 16th birthday in 1972. She had a bright and cheery attitude. Something I drasticaly needed to buoy me up that year. Most of the kids in my ward had these basement dances, more so an easy kinda touchy feely time. I don’t ever remember playing spin the bottle. One time I recall, was the dance in Kim’s basement. It had all the normal, not so horribly loud music of the time, workings of standing together next to your girl walking in circles, holding each other close, and then….getting an erection. I felt damaged and embarrassed, but later I knew if I could feel it, so could she. Since I brought Cathy (Cathy 1977), I felt obligated, as a true gentleman to stay with her, but my wandering eyes were also frequently aimed at Kim not just because she was the party hostess.

Cathy and I were on and off so many times, I was getting burned out. Soon, Kim and I started talking more frequently. Especially because she didn’t have a way to church, since all of her family were inactive. She was a pretty girl. As pretty as a 15 year old could be. She was slender and petite. She dressed well in her short skirts. She had great legs too! I had a 1961 Ford pickup with a bench seat. Each time I’d pick her up, she’d follow me to the drivers door and slide in right next to me. That’s all I ever wanted. Not even Cathy would do that. A month or so after my birthday, she dropped the bomb, that her family was moving to Virginia towards the end of December. I was losing my best friend. The one and only, that I could confide in.

A week after she left, it was New Years 1973. My older brother had screwed up and needed some help moving down from Minnesota. I was voluntold to go help him. I was running a day late, the day Dad died (Dad 1973) in an airplane crash, where all occupants died a horrible death. I needed a big shoulder to help me with my grief and tears. I desperately tried to find her, but unfortunately she was gone and I had to bury everything inside of me. All of it was very very painful.

I struggled with the rest of my schooling and graduated. Prior to then, I had talked to my new Bishop about getting a recommend to attend BYU. Most everyone, that was anyone went there. I was accepted under 1 condition. I had to attend summer school, to try to bring up my GPA. Mom took me out to Utah and helped me get settled in. As I was registering, I met a nice guy that helped with the forms.

Getting upstairs, I did my best to get things put away and settled in. I looked over the huge and beautiful campus, knowing that I was here for 6 long hard months. I tried to take classes that would help me, but Anthropology 101? You’ve got to be kidding me. As a life long Mormon, I even struggled to get through the required religion class. The 2 classes I enjoyed the most was English and gym.

One day while riding my bike across campus, I noticed that someone had pulled a prank and dumped some soap in the main fountain. I remember thinking how cool that was. I had to wait a couple of weeks for things to settle down, like the cleaning out of the fountain. Later on I was ready to take my turn pulling a prank. I got a baggie to put the only soap in that I had, laundry soap. I got on my bike and rode over there, then headed back making sure the coast was clear. I stealthily opened the baggie and quickly threw it in. I felt like Dorfman (Animal House) saying GREAT. Hmmmm, not so. Like an idiot, I later realized that laundry soap would not foam. I should have used liquid dish soap. What a DORK!

All the students were separated into Family Home Evening groups, (guys and girls)where we’d meet once a week generally at the girls dorm for a spiritual message. After going down to our TV room in my dorm, where washers and dryers were also located, I was trying to watch something, I was always interrupted by the other guys playing macho. I learned that things were a lot calmer and quieter in the girls dorm common area. I met a girl there named Daphne. She was cute, but the TV room was the only place we were together. I’d go over there and sit on the couch. Most times, she’d come out and watch TV found her spot to sit between my legs, sitting on the carpet. Once she complained about how sore her shoulders were. I began rubbing them and massaging them. After a few times, I wished that my hands would slip or something to be able to touch her breasts. Hmmm, nope.

I had a date that summer with a girl I had met when I was 9-10, in Albuquerque. Her older brother was a milkman (yep, white uniform and all). He invited me to ride with him one morning. My first job! Anyway, I called her up and invited her to dinner and a large dance at school. She accepted, so we went for pizza and then headed to the dance. I’ve got to say that there was absolutely no chemistry between us at all. Later, I had more fun in a tux with my little sister at another dance. It seemed that we were enjoying the evening though, when she complained about not feeling well. I offered to cut things short and take her home. I headed back to my room, when a couple of my neighbors stopped by to congratulate me on my hot date. I was pretty proud of myself, until… one of them continued with, where did I go? It seems that it all was a ruse, because he said that the last they saw her, she was having a great time with some friends. I was floored, I even made any excuse possible, not to go to their home. For anything! While on my mission in northern Norway, after being there for 6 months, my Mom told me that she and my 2 younger sisters had joined a tour group to Israel, lead by her Dad. They were all scheduled for a 1 day stop over in my town. Kinda like, I was in the neighborhood and… it was exciting news, until I found that she was also coming. I dreaded it immensely. I guess things were on my side, because she decided to stay back with others in the group visiting another town.

I had another devastating experience. I was sitting in my room trying to study, with little luck. My door was open for any distraction that would save me. Remember the guy at registration? He was walking by and stopped to say hi. He asked if I was going to look at the comet or something. I said maybe later. He invited me to go to the roof with him to view it. Great! A reprieve from the books! We went up, but found the access door locked. I was about ready to head back to my room when he asked if I’d like to see his room. Mmm, okay. He lived 1 floor below mine, so that’s where we went.

He invited me in. We sat on his bed, talking about whatever phenomena that we were missing. The subject changed as he asked me something personal. He asked if I masterbated. Of course I said yes. I mean all guys did. He told me that he had trouble ejaculating to quickly and was concerned about having sex and getting embarrassed. He continued asking if I could hold it back from having pre-mature ejaculation. I said I didn’t know. He suggested we lay back on his bed, side by side and try it. Hmmmm, well, alright. So we whipped our dicks out and began rubbing ourselves. Within a few minutes, it seemed that we both couldn’t hold it and shot our loads all over our stomachs. I got this weird feeling in my heart that felt very familiar. I excused myself, and buttoned up and went back to my room to change and clean up. There was an unmistakable cloud over my head.

It brought back my traumatic experience 10 years earlier. It was 1963. The time when Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas. It was a very sad time for me. It was also the year that i’d turn 8 years old. Before then, i was really excited to be the first person to be baptized in the font of our new chapel. Dad came and told me, that there was no way the chapel would be finished in time.

Earlier that summer, my older brother and I were riding around our residential area. We found a dried up creek bed. It was hidden by weedy and dead small trees. Before we headed home, he said he needed to pee. I joined him just to be one of the guys. As we were zipping up, he asked if I had ever sucked on a penis before. Of course I said no. He offered to let me try his. Nervously, I said okay. I kneeled down as he put it in my mouth. It tasted dirty, but felt rubbery and not so disgusting. Later, I figured out why women might enjoy it.

As we headed home, I got very nervous and scared. I knew enough, to know about what baptism was for. Dad had asked me to make up my mind on where I wanted to be baptized. With my recent experience, I told him that it might not be new and glamorous, but I preferred to be baptized as soon as possible, believing that I needed it more than any other time. To have my sins washed away. Afterwards, the experience still plagued me and still does 60 years later.

You see, after that horrible summer day, I kept an eye on my brother. We had moved to Minnesota, where Dad started his last chapel project. The 4 years of low incomes from the church became a real struggle for our family. Somehow, my parents were able to locate a large 2 story house. It was a craftsman style with beautiful wood floors, stairs, and railings. It even had a baby grand piano and an old radio that was supposed to pick up signals around the world. It kind of did and that satisfied me.

My older brothers were energetic always into things by themselves. I watched my older brother find a pair of skis and climbed onto the garage, only like an idiot, fell straight down. One evening Mom was out doing something leaving the 6 of us home alone. My younger sisters and I were playing upstairs and suddenly I felt a weird silence. Knowing that no one had left, i went to the boys bedroom and found the door locked. That was weird I thought, so out of curiosity, I called out asking what they were doing. I heard some quiet whispering and I heard words that have changed my life. My older sister distinctly asked where her panties were. The boys came out looking guilty as ever. When Mom got home, the story was sparsely told. She invited me into her room asking for my version. Many years later, my sister told me that the older one had taken her virginity or raped her. The other, I don’t remember, but knew he was guilty by contributing or else by association. You can read the full story, called Brothers and Sisters.

Two years later, the older one was sporting Playboy magazines, an unpacked condom (ewwww), back rubs by my little sisters who were given nickels or dimes. Heaven forbid if he had done something to them. He also showed me how to crawl thru a long closet/attic, where we could see my older sister taking a bath through the pipe sconces under the sink. He also served time for molesting 4 of his toddler kids, and served time in prison. After 20 years he was given permission to become re-baptized. Unfortunately, they had no clue what kind of a monster they had set loose.

As I look back on my sister’s life, I can put the dots together, by the manipulating and lying about his antics. There was no rescue of her ever. I have watched her life go completely and literally down the toilet after that dark night in 1964. Her life had become totally meaningless, to the point of molestations by her husbands to her girls. She’s been ignored by our parents from day one. They had no idea how to help her, so they stuck their heads in the sand. She was feeding her girls from dumpster diving at grocery stores, and lost the one job that gave her some dignity from carpal tunnel syndrome, which she never healed from. Currently, I have seen that her self worth is very close to zero, by her hoarding and living in squaller. I pray that she will one day be rescued from her pains, but hope it isn’t like my baptism.