Crossing the lines…

It seems counter intuitive that the Catholic Church would protect pedophiles and seek to silence the victims of sexual abuse.  After all, the church is supposed to be a moral compass guiding us to behave in such a manner as to emulate the life of Christ.  It should be championing those who have suffered and standing up for those who have been wronged.  They should be actively seeking to expose evil in our world.  Time and again the Catholic Church has chosen to do the complete opposite.  The leadership of the church is more interested in protecting pedophiles than they are in protecting innocent children or supporting efforts to root out those clergy who are abusing their position for their own personal thrill.

Father Gibson created opportunities where he could control my movements and keep me away from any semblance of a support structure.  He would occasionally take me to the rectory at Our Lady Queen of Peace Church for overnight stays on weeknights.  The new rectory was under construction so I was taken to the mobile home that served as the pastors residence.  Parishioners would come by the residence and they seemed to be accustomed to finding the Pastor with “overnight guests”.  As an adult I cannot believe that some of these people didn’t find this to be out of the usual and potentially questionable activity.

He also took me to New York City, away from my family and totally dependent on him.  Under the guise of taking me to see some Broadway Shows, he took me across state lines.   His particular love was for Operetta, specifically Gilbert and Sullivan.  In 1974 the D’oyle Carte Opera Company (a world renowned Gilbert and Sullivan Theater Company from Great Britain) came to New York and he bought tickets to see some of his favorites, The Mikado and The Pirates of Penzance.  I was taken along with him so he could revel in alcohol, a proper British interpretation of Gilbert and Sullivan and then indulge in his affinity for young boys.  I was not the main event, but it is clear that I was the curtain call.    The hotel room had only one bed.  His intentions were pretty clear.

I wonder who helped him with the travel arrangements.  Who in their right mind would think it was appropriate to book an adult man and a young teenage boy into a room with only 1 bed?