Wednesday, September 19, 2018


I have a story to tell, in solidarity with Dr. Christine Blasey Ford. It is a story of humiliation and abuse, and one that I am as reluctant to tell as she has been. It explains, in part, how well I understand the reasons for her reluctance. It is embarrassing.

When I was a boy at boarding school, perhaps fifteen years old, I slept in one of aligned rows of beds in a dormitory. The blankets, I remember, we all the same bright red. There was a chest of drawers placed between each bed, where we kept our clothes.

It happened one night after we had all returned from holiday. It was after lights-out. One of the boys, a big bruiser, a little older than myself, was boasting to a bunch of envious and eager listeners about how he'd had sex with a girl while on vacation. No one believed he could have done such a thing. "I'll prove it," he said. "I'll show you." He looked around for a suitable victim and his eyes landed on my bed. "I'll do Clothier," he said.

So they were all excited. "Do Clothier!" they started chanting in a chorus. "Do Clothier!"

So he climbed into my bed and the boys all gathered around with flashlights (torches, we called them, in those days) to watch him perform his feat. And, while the other boys cheered him on, this "Bunter" (that was his nickname) Scott stuck his hard penis between my legs and, well.. raped me.

There. Not an easy story to tell. As I say, embarrassing--not only to me, but perhaps also to family and friends who read this about my past. Well, too bad. I don't care about that. My apologies to anyone who is embarrassed by this embarrassing truth. It helps me to understand a little better what Dr. Christine Blasey Ford went through and why she was reluctant to reveal it.

And it if helps anyone else to understand her a little better, I will feel happy to have told it.

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