VICTIM'S ADVOCATE - Part Two

I'm eccentric... I admit it. I started out as an inquisitive child... the class clown, and had to know how everything worked, by taking it apart - rarely to be put back together. From there became, even more inquisitive and learned eventually how to put things back together. I learned about relationships, and mostly how they fall apart, and can't be put back together. I still hope... but for what, I don't know.

Within the past 5 years, to give you an idea of how awkward this whole "victim's advocate is, I applied for a job, and under a category called: "Special interests or hobbies", I wrote "victims advocate". I wished I hadn't - it can mean so many things, like workplace whistle-blower, but oddly, they did call me, to inquire about temp work. But, I don't think I'll put that down again... not something to tell an employer, in fact, not much that I write here can I share with an employer... which is too bad.

If only we could be free to be ourselves... if only we as a society could recognize the difference between offensives where people get hurt and those where they don't - like having pot, for example - in NH it's a $2000 fine and up to a year in jail for a joint. Serious crime!There are sentences for violent crimes which are much less severe, and people get hurt. I just can't see the logic in that.

This blog series is about victims and advocates. So the question I hope to answer is, why am I involved? Maybe because I read online news, and made a phone call. Maybe more...

Until 4th grade, I was coming along okay... but come 5th, and a family move, things changed. It was partly because of me - I was the underdog, and sensitive... my parents figured a new town, new beginning. They also bought a more expensive house in a expensive neighborhood.

My 1st memory of my new 5th grade school was having a guy kick my feet out from under me, while I leaned against the hallway wall. It only got worse...

I finally graduated... obviously skipping past my school experiences, to one night around 1969, when after the fact, I found out my sister who slept in the room next to me, got a knock on her bedroom window. She was around 15. She often would skip out her window and party... I found this out later. I was straight as an arrow then, ultra-right, and I didn't question authority. My sister didn't trust me with those secrets. It happened on this night, my sister didn't feel well... she told the guy at the window "no". And went back to bed.

Within the next couple of days news broke that a local teen was missing, and a ransom from his father, a doctor, was demanded. The father paid the ransom only to bury his young son, whom the kid-nappers killed. The person's responsible were arrested... the mastermind... he was the guy I most feared at my school, in my own grade level, who bullied me often, and, he was the guy knocking on my sisters window the night the teenager disappeared. My father was rumored to have money - he didn't, believe me. My sister was their intended victim... and that's just the beginning.

The purpose of this post is to share why I became a "victim's advocate". I've since retired (so to speak)... it's really more than I can handle. The reality of the emotion involved, and the uncertainty can't be understated. In my next post, more on why...