Canadian Corruption
Sexual Abuse & Political & Legal Conspiracy. RCMP Incompetence & Cover up.
Priors Of Grand Bank NFLD Canada
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Page 3

T. Alexander Hickman

She only wanted Dad home long enough to get his money. Whenever he came home they would go first to the bedroom and she would check all of his pockets for money. I guess I should not be so hard on Dad because after all he was an abused husband as well. Some people do not know what to do under those circumstances. I believe myself though that your children should always come first and worry about yourself later. Byron was extremely abused but he always tried to help us. He was the only one who tried to help us. What could he, a lone child, do though. I know he cares. He always did. No matter what anyone says.

The children heard the mother tell the doctor that they were her children and she would do whatever she wanted to them. "Over my dead body!", the doctor exclaimed. "I'm warning you, Harriett, you won't get away with it the next time!" The children stood motionless outside the door. They knew what to expect when they got home. Byron feared because it was his idea to bring his sister to the hospital, but in his mind, he was determined not to let his mother touch his little sister. The little girl had started crying again, and her brother was trying to comfort her as the doctor practically ran over them as he exited his office. The children could see the rage in his eyes. As he saw the children cowaring beside the office room door, his face softened, and he kneeled down to speak with the children. "I know what happened to you, Donna, and if it ever happens to you again, you run to someone you can trust and have them call me." The doctor then looked at Byron and smiled, "You did the right thing by bringing your sister here to see me, you're her big brother, so you should take care of her. You did right, son", he whispered, as he patted the boy's head.

As the doctor stood up, he saw the mother standing in the doorway. Dr. Stephens glared at her and calmly spoke, "Remember what I told you, Harriett, there'd better not be a next time", then Dr. Stephens walked away. The mother grabbed the children by the hands and dragged them down the long corridor that was leading them to the ominous future. The children knew that this had been their only hope, and as they felt her monsterous grip, it was very clear to them that no matter how much she hurt them in the future, there was no chance that she would ever take any of them to the hospital again, no matter what medical attention they would need because of her beatings. She could kill them, now, who really cared what she did to them. No one was going to help them. It would go on as if no one ever knew what was really happening behind the walls of that prison they called home. I do not recall seeing a lot of physical abuse with Byron. But I knew it was happening. I did see him get whipped a few thimes though. He even began putting the telephone book in his pants to soften the blows. I kinda thought she doted on Byron because she took him everywhere with her and would let him party with her and her lady friends. She would always send him next door to Phil Noseworthys house to collect money for her. It was difficult for me to know what was going on with Byron because I was young and he always kept a lock on his bedroom door in later years. She always threatened us with reform school or the boogey man, or the dark cupboard. She would put us in the cupboard for long periods. It strikes me odd sometimes because there were times when I did not know what exactly was going on but I still knew.

Times like when Uncle Max and Uncle Charl would gather at the house and have their little pow wows with Mom. I knew somehow that it involved us but was not sure how. I witnessed much cruel and unusual abuse upon my sister Suzanne. There was mental as well as physical abuse. She was constatnly told she was a no good whore and a slut. She was ugly. She was constantly made to cook and clean the house and take care of all the other siblings. I thought the world of Suzanne. I looked up to her because she took care of us. She received too many severe beatings for even me to recall. One I do recall is when my brother Byron caught her parked in a car at Louse Hill with two guys. Mom literally dragged her home, stripped her naked, rolled her into bed, then whipped her repeatedly with the frying pan chord. I was at the bottom of the bed crying and screaming for Mom to stop whipping her. She was beating her to death. Suzanne was swollen and bruised. Her bare body covered with welts. I begged Mom to stop but she ignored me. She had lost her head altogether. I finally screamed so much I lost my breath and began hyperventilating. I was turning blue in the face. Only when Mom saw the colour of my face did she stop hitting Suzanne and tended to me. No one can possibly understand what goes through a childs mind while watching a sister getting practically beaten to death by her own Mother. I believe to this day that had I not turned blue Mom would have succeeded in killing her. After she tended to me she started beating on Byron for being out on his bicycle and she sent him out in the pouring rain to look for her.

I also know that Donna was beaten but I did not witness much of her abuse. Donna was a rebellious child. She was the only one I ever say fight back at Mom. Once Mom threw Donna over a sack of potatoes and Donna got right back up and punched her. I saw Donna get beaten once where the calf of her leg grew large and bulging. The veins were sticking out through. She could not walk or even stand up. Mom took her to the Doctor and told him she had fallen off her bicycle. Donna too was called a whore and a lazy good for nothing. She was told she was dirty and lazy all of her life. Abuse of the other children I saw on a day to day basis. As I have already pointed out it was a regular occurance in our home. After I left home there was still abuse to the younger children but I did not witness much of it. I knew Bettyann and Aaron were being abused because I had on occasion seen the results. My Fiancé of twelve years and I took Bettyann and Aaron into our home to live with us because of the abuse. Derrick Hickman, my Fiancé, will recall a time when Aaron came to our home with the prints of Moms hands still in his swollen face.

Derrick will also remember a chain and pad lock around the refrigerator in Moms house so that no one could eat any food without her knowledge. Many a time I expressed to Derrick that I wish Mom would die so that the kids could be safe. I even contemplated killing her myself but I did not think I could do the kids much good from a jail cell. I did not want to kill her because I hated her but I knew it was the only way to stop the abuse. She must have been living in a hell of her own. How does one live with themselves after doing these things? I recall Randell, my younger brother, telling me once that the social services had called to inform Mom that they would be interviewing all the children living at home regarding abuse. How good of them to warn an abusive parent what was going down. I do not know if those interviews ever took place for I was not living at home at the time. I do know that Mom warned them all by threatening them with a severe beating if they told anything on her. I think that Byron may have had something to do with informing the social services. For some reason Aunt Jessies name comes to mind as well. Allan, another younger brother, and Randell got the regular abuse but they were somewhat sheltered by Dad whenever possible. They were Dads boys. Allan became very much inside himself; an introvert. I thought the sun shined out of every hair of his head and I wanted desperately to help him cope. He would not talk and tell me what was happening to him. All I know is he was a young vigorous boy and suddenly he was quiet and withdrawn. I took him to St. Pierre with me one weekend to try to bring him out of his shell but I could not succeed in helping him open up. He barely spoke a word all weekend though I did feel he enjoyed it.

Just to get away from the home life must have been a relief. His own Mother had him sent to jail for marijuana. Sometimes he smokes on ocassion to escape reality. I remember it being Chirstmas and he called me from prison. He was breaking his heart and mine. What he must have endured during that time I can only imagine by what I endured just knowing he was there. So many good parts of him were taken away by that woman. So much talent and potential destroyed. There were many of my long time friends who knew we were being abused. Daphne Osmond, Cathy Breon (Myles), Florence Durnford, Marie Matthews, Anne Forsey, Ellen Piercey (Monster), Marilyn Marsh, Mary Hillier, Mim Emberley and her husband. I realize that one of the first signs of child abuse is bed wetting. I know that first hand. I got ridiculed at school for doing it; beaten at home for doing it, and to this day, and I am 37 years old, I still do it at least once per month. I kept telling my Mother that I could not help it but she just kept beating me for it. I started hiding my pyjamas in the closet between the wall and the chimney. Sometimes I would sleep with Dougie because he was younger and I would blame it on him. Eventually I noticed blood in my urine and I got worried. When she finally found my pyjamas full of dried blood and urine she then took me to the doctor. It turned out I had serious kidney and bladder problems. The beatings did not help the matter any either.

I cannot attest to sexual abuse to many of my sisters and brothers but I can tell you what happened to me. I can also tell you by judging what happened to me and what may have happened to me, I believe anything that they say to be the absolute truth. Mom put us in situations to be sexually abused. I was strong and determined, not to mention a Tom boy with an attitude; that is what saved me from further sexual abuse. I personally relate sexual abuse to two men, (legal action) and Art Trimm. I also feel that (legal action) may be at present sexually abusing my brother Dougie, whom I also believe is (legal action) son. I know he recenlty tried to sexually abuse my sister Georgie, whom I also believe is (legal action) daughter. I saw (legal action) sexually abuse our babysitter, Helen Riggs. Helen was a huge lady that was mentally challenged. She was a good, kind and gentle person. She loved us all so much. Bill Pittman chased Helen outside to the yard and she fell down on a rock and broke her leg. She lay there on the ground in pain while Mom and Bill stood there in the window watching her and all the while laughing. I felt bad and hurt for Helen. She was a wonderful person. They had no right to treat her like a dog. (Legal action) was an excuse for a man that our father felt sorry for. No one would take Bill on the boats. Except for Dad of course. He felt sorry for him and said he was a good worker. The whole time Bill was doing his wife and abusing his children.

Bill represented money to us children because he would give us pockets full of change to go to the living room so that he and Mom could go to the bedroom. Then he would give Mom lots of money. Ian Pittman, Bill Pittman's brother, knew what was going on. He did not want Bill around our house because Mom would take all his money. Mom had us watch for Bill going up or down the street so she could get him into the house for sex and money. On one occasion when we lured Bill into the house Mom put Suzanne and I into the porch with him while she and someone else robbed his wallet. Bill came after me but I cried hysterically. I kicked him and bite him and he finally left me alone and went on to my sister. I was so relieved that he left me alone and went after her. I feel guilty for that too but for me it was do or die. He did something sexual to her but I do not know what because I continued to scream until Mom let me out of the porch. Bill then started to try to find ways to touch us sexually. He wanted us to pea in our pants for $5.00. Me, Lucy (my sister), and Mary Hillier did it a couple of times. Then he started asking us to pea in our pants for $10.00 but he had to feel to see if we were wet. I would not do it so Lucy and Mary would drive me out of the room.

Mom knew they were doing this. One day I was in the house alone and Bill came into the house. He started to chase me. He grabbed me and put his hand in my crouch. I tried to take his hand away but he had strong hard hands with long fingers. The harder I tried to remove his hand the harder he dug into my crouch. That is when I had my first orgasm. Do you think I wanted to have my first orgasm this way?? I never again took anything from Bill Pittman. He is vile and disgusting. I have never looked at or spoken to the man from that day on. I knew though that Lucy and Mary were still doing it because they wanted money to go to Crowleys pool hall and hang out. Lucy has since confided in me that they would have to show themselves to him and even let him touch. I do have that man. Art Trimm was a regular at the house as well. He would go to the bedroom with Mom and then give her money. He ran a gas station in town and she used to take me there with her. He would fix her car for free and give her more money. Mom would send me into the garage bay with him and let him fondle me. He would give me candy bars and occasionally a little money. I am ashamed to say that as I got a little older and needed money to go out with my friends I would go by myself to the garage on occasion and let him fondle me for a couple of bucks. He used to tell me to come around supper time when it was not busy. Then I realized it was wrong and I stopped going there but he never stopped trying to get me there. Mom put me in those situations and that environment and I resent that very much. I have lived my whole life with the shame and guilt.

I now realize that I was a victim and am in no way to blame. When I was around 30 years old I received a call saying that Mom would not make it through the night. I and my sister Suzanne returned immediately to Newfoundland from Ontario. While there, we went to visit Uncle Max Snook. We got to talking about family and I had to ask him why he did not do anything to help us. Why he left us in that house when he knew what was happening. He said Joanie, you do not know how many times I came home from school (he was a Teacher) and said to Joan (his wife) then he motioned to her and said didn't I Joan, she confirmed what he was saying was correct; that poor little Joan. She is so smart and so pretty. What a shame. How I would like to take her to live with us. Aunt Joan would say Max there are a dozen other kids and we cannot help them all. We better leave well enough alone, besides, Harriett would never stand for it. He went on to say how it was different in those days Joan. Today it would make a difference but in them days it did not matter. Too little, too late Uncle Max!!!!!!! Thank You very much Uncle Max and Aunt Joan. For which I bear both your names. For which I was Flower Girl at your wedding. Thank You so much for nothing. Knowing of our delima and doing absolutely nothing makes you as guilty as our Mother. YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY; ALL OF THE BIGGEST THOUGHTS AREN'T WORTH THE SMALLEST DEED!!! You had the power to help me become the Lawyer I always wanted to be. You know I had the potential and once again chose to do nothing.
Joan M. Prior

BROKEN TOYS
BY DONNA "SHARL" PRIOR
Fact not Fiction

CHAPTER 1 As the electrical cord came down upon her legs, she cowarded in the corner, her cries and screams echoing in the vast victorian house. Her body wreched with pain, the five year old had lived this nightmare many times before. The suminous figure above her was there to protect her, and yet, the frail little girl found no comfort in the force of the beating she was receiving. Her cries went unheard by her brothers and sisters, in fear for their own safety. For what seemed to be an eternity, the child endured the purishment doted out to her until finally, she slipped into unconciousiness. When she came around, her brother Byron, just a few years older then her, was holding her in his arms rocking her back and forth. "Are you alright?" he questioned the little frail body that he was holding. "My legs hurt really bad, Byron", as she answered through her tears. "Let me see your legs", he said. As he examined her legs, he realized the severity of the beating that their Mother had laid upon Donna. He carried her into the kitchen and demanded that his Mother take her to the hospital. He wasn't afraid for himself anymore, he knew he had to do something before his Mother literally killed one of them. He stood strong and brave, holding his little sister, determined that his Mother would not get away with what she had done.

He looked her straight in the face, and told her that he was taking his sister to the hospital, and he was going to tell the doctor the truth about what had happened. "If you tell the doctor what happened, I'll beat you even harder when you get home. I'll go to the hospital with you to make sure you don't say anything, and if you do I'll kill you when you get back here", the mother threatened. They took the child to the doctor, and as soon as the doctor say the child's legs, he knew what had happened. The little girl's legs were covered with welts, and swollen beyond belief. It was so easy to see the pain in the child's face. Dr. Stephens inquired of the mother what had happened. "Her sister pushed her off the bicycle", she answered. Byron tried to tell the doctor what had really happened, but the doctor just asked Byron to take his little sister to the waiting room until he came to get them. Byron could see that the doctor, was very angry, yet he spoke to Byron with compassion. Byron took his little sister and helped her outside, but instead of going to the waiting room as the doctor requested of him, he and his little sister waited outside the door. As they stood there the children could hear the doctor's voice get louder and louder. "Harriett, if you ever beat that child like that again, or any of your other children, I'll make sure that they are taken away from you and you'll never see them again!"

CHAPTER 2 As fast as her little legs could carry her, she ran down the street towards home. She had been at the local playground and had lost track of the time. It was nearly 7 p.m., and she knew if she was one minute late that her mother would punish her severely. She loved going to the playground. No one ever spoke to her, but she found peace in just sitting in the swing. She would dream of one day finding someone to love that would love her in return. "Some day I will leave this place and become famous, or live in a big house with lots of children around, or marry a rich man and he would take me away from here to a beautiful foreign land", she thought to herself. She had wonderful day dreams in that swing. "If only those dreams weren't so far away from her", she thought. She loved going to the playground almost as much as she loved going to the top of the cape. The cape was her solace. There, she would find inspiration, inspiration she needed to write her poetry. She loved to write, and her English teacher had told her that she had been given a great gift. Mr. Noseworthy was so kind to her and always praised her work that she had done in his class. She felt a true kinship with hem, and wanted him to be proud of her. She would sit on the cape for hours writing her little poems, only stopping long enough to pet her little dog, Wally.

 
Between doing her chores and taking care of the younger children, the times spent in the playground and at the cape were precious few, but as long as she had a few hours a week to herself, she would dream her beautiful dreams and have time to write her poems. She was a lonely child, and very shy.

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Editor's note: T. Alex Hickman is also a member of the Order of Canada, and a past GRAND MASTER of all Newfoundland Freemasons. He is also a member of the St. John's, Masonic Temple Group. Wes Penre