This 4th of July has been no Holiday!

Independence day is not a holiday here.  No day off, no fireworks, no BBQ.


I went to work as normal.  We meet for prayer every day at 9 AM.  Some days there are 20, some days there are 4.  Today there were 4.  We spent time in prayer.  I remember asking God to break my heart for what breaks His.  Little did I know, not only would he break my heart, but he would show me what breaks His.  It is literally almost too difficult to even speak about.

I don't blog a lot, ok hardly ever almost never.  Much of what I do is very confidential and also very difficult to even speak about.  My hope is that by writing this will help me process.  Maybe, prayerfully, maybe someone may even be able to offer some advice.  I won't mention actual names.  I will for the sake of clarity give fictitious names to the people in my story. 

I have started doing some volunteer work for the "yellow house".  There are many groups that work out of this particular house.  YWAM, All Nations, Baby Safe and a few independents.  This house is located in the heart of Ocean View, near the flats.  Very similar to the projects or other government style housing that you may be familiar with.  The yellow house specializes in dealing with victims of sexual assault.  Girls, boys, families, etc.  But even more than that we deal with at risk youth of all types, ages, and sizes.  We are there for crisis intervention.  Each money we meet, pray, and talk about what's happening.  Make a plan for who we need to see and then hit the streets.  Meeting and praying with people along the way. 

Often times, the yellow house we become a hang out for the children who live close to it.  Especially when they notice certain peoples cars outside.  We don't normally mind them playing in the garden, but sometimes they can get up to mischief.  Yesterday some boys ended up on the roof of the house which was a big no-no, as well as starting fires and attempting to smoke different bushes out of the garden.  Again, just being naughty. 

We had finished praying and I had a client that came to the house for a 10:30 meeting.  Another colleague also had a meeting happening in the kitchen.  I noticed 3 young boys (10-12) came into the yard.  I recognized a few of them from the day before.  After a while I thought it was time for me to go and check on them and see what they were up to.  I assumed the worst, probably smoking. Much to my shock, as I came around the corner, 1 kids was naked and pulling up his pants, I looked around him and saw the other 2 children engaged in the act of sexual molestation.  All 3 participants were boys.  I shouted and the 2 perpetrators quickly ran off before I could catch them.  I went back to find the victim sitting on the wall of the property.  Not knowing if he should jump and run or come back.  I called him off the wall and asked him to come inside.  

We chatted with him briefly about this not being ok.  He told us that it has happened before, multiple times.  I also learned that he also goes to a special school for the mentally challenged.  He told us he was 8, but I learned later he was actually 12.  I asked if he would like us to discuss this with his mom and he said yes.  We couldn't find her and at the moment I had another client in the living room that I needed to get to.  Oddly enough this other client is here for help in dealing with own 9 year old and 6 year old boys that had been molested by his peers.  I told Timmy that I would make a few phone calls and come find him later. 

After finishing up with my other client.  I made a stop at the police station.  Nothing could be done on this front without the parent.  She was the only one that could file the charge.  Next I head to social services where the lady I need to speak with is gone for the after noon.  I head back to Timmy's house (victim).  Hoping to find out more information on the mother in the hopes that I can get a hold of her and return to the police station.

She is still not home.  The lady says try again after 5 oclock.  As I am preparing to leave, I notice a picture on the wall.  I asked who is this? That's my son Larry (perpetrator).  Really?  Larry was the one I saw molesting Timmy.  I told her I saw him with Timmy.  Yes I know but he said he wasn't the one doing anything, it was Wally (his friend).  I said yes, Wally was there, but I saw Timmy with my eyes and explained to her what I saw.  She was mad now.  Mad at me or Larry or Timmy, I did not know, but she was mad.  She left the house in a huff looking for the boys.  I followed her.  We found Larry in the library playing games.  She brought him home.  On the way we found Timmy and she brought him home.  Some how when we got there, Wally was there as well. 

Its important to remember that Timmy is mentally handicapped.  As Larry's mother begins to question Timmy, he begins to laugh.  She yells. This isn't funny.  Don't laugh, why do you always laugh?  Much of the conversation was in Afrikaans, which I don't understand.  But I could tell both other boys were denying everything and blaming Timmy.  Wally told me he was just going pee.  Lots of finger pointing and lots of shouting. 

Enough.  I had enough.  I know what I saw and I know who was doing what.  I said I am taking Timmy with me.  You can do what you want with your child and with Wally, but it is not safe for Timmy to be here. So I took Timmy and left.

I went back to the social workers office.  Now they were closed for lunch.  I went to one of the holiday clubs that was happening at the local Methodist church.  I knew I could get some lunch for Timmy and maybe some answers as to what to do next.  I was told that I did the right thing and now just had to wait for a social worker to come back after lunch.  Then they would have to get involved and do something. 

Speaking of lunch, I was hungry.  Still had time to kill before the social workers were back.  We went to the mall and grabbed some lunch.

We went back to social services.  I met with the social worker.  She knew Timmy and had worked with him several years prior to this.  I told her the story, what I had seen, what I was told, and that he was living with his perpetrator.  She said that there was no question that he needed to be removed, the question was whether or not she could find somewhere to take him.  Dealing with older kids, twelve and up, plus his special needs would make it difficult.  She asked if I could keep him for an hour while she made some calls. 

I took him home.  I fought the urge at first, but its too difficult to discuss these things with my wife without her knowing the faces.  I also fight the urge of taking things home with me, but I felt like it was the right thing.  A dog to lick his face, kids to give him high 5's.  Not knowing what he's done, but just to show him love.  Even Finley hugged his leg.  He tried riding bikes.  Took pictures on our phones.  Took turns following different ones of us around.  He is a 12 year old trapped in the body of a 7-8 year old with the same mental capacity.  He says Yes to everything.  Not knowing if he doesn't understand or just doesn't listen.  But I believe him.  I saw what happened.  I believe him when he tells me this isn't the first time.  He wants help.  I tell him that we are trying to find a place for him to stay that will be safe.  He said he doesn't want to play with Larry anymore.  I think thats a good idea.

Back to Social Services.  One of the teachers from his school said he would take Timmy.  She will meet with the mother in the morning to see how to move forward.  The only place for Timmy she says will be an institution.  More than likely he would also be a victim there.  So she says do you send him away to be molested by strangers or leave him home to be molested by people he knows?  I said that both options suck and I don't like either one.  She agrees, but says that's whats available.

For now, I know he can sleep safe tonight.  Not sure how long it will last.  I ask if he's ok.  He manages a smile.  I tell him I will find him tomorrow.  We walk out to the car to fetch his cool drink and chips.  We all say goodbye.  He doesn't want to go.  Slowly walks away.  Two steps, turns around.  Two steps, turns around.  Sheesh this is harder than saying goodbye at camp.  I roll down the window to say again I will see him tomorrow.  I want him to know.  I want him to know so much....He takes two more steps turns around.  He reaches the door and wont go inside.  Just watches as I drive away.

I took with me a letter that Social services asked me to drop by his house for his mother.  Requesting that she come by tomorrow for a meeting.  They told me she would be home at 5.  I go back at 6.  She's not there.  But she is near by, so I go on a search.  Everyone has seen her but doesn't know where she is.  I recruit a friend who knows her to help me find her.  We drive around.  There she is.  "You looking for me?"  "Where's Timmy?"  She's drunk.  I can smell it.  I tell her he is safe and I don't know where.  She asks again.  I tell her she must come by tomorrow to speak to social services.  She doesn't even ask why he's been taken by social services.  I don't try to explain.  She walks away.  She doesn't look back.

On a day where we, as Americans, celebrate Freedom and Independence I was surrounded by bondage. Something that is all to common here.

(We are finding that peer on peer molestation is a huge problem in Ocean View.  In just 4 days I know of 3 different new cases.  I know that social services is doing all they can and currently have a huge back log of cases and dozens of children that need to be removed.  The problem at this stage is there is no where for them to go.  The victims become perpetrators and the cycle continues.  There has to be a better way.)