Looking out: Naming names
By Brandon Astor Jones
"Love demands infinitely less than friendship." — George Jean Nathan.
Imagine being successful and expanding in business and highly respected in the community. You have a lovely daughter in her mid-20s along with a beautiful wife. Imagine too, that despite all those gifts you are a chronic alcoholic living/hiding in the ACT.
Let's go even further. While you are drunk, you start to feel a need for sexual gratification, but instead of going home to your waiting wife, you go to your mother-in-law's house and, once allowed entry there, you rape her.
Hard to imagine is it not? It was, and still is, hard for me to imagine too, but that is precisely what happened recently to a dear friend of mine. Her son-in-law, in a drunken rage of lust, banged on her door in the dark of night, and moments after she let him in, he raped her.
No, the rape did not make any of the following day's television or printed media reports. In fact, my friends rape never even made an appearance on a police report. There are only three people who know that the rape took place: the victim, the rapist and myself. It has been, and is, difficult for me to keep quiet, but I will since my friend has requested that of me.
My friend does not want to tell her daughter because of the pain and shame such a disclosure would heap upon her and the entire family. Of course, my friend has sworn me to secrecy so I cannot name names. I do not want to lose my friend's respect and confidence so I will not name names — this time.
I can only imagine the utter helplessness she feels after having been raped by her son-in-law. I do not mean to suggest that being raped by a stranger or someone else is better, but surely that aspect of the rape makes it all the more emotionally debilitating and painful. She,like most mothers, must love her daughter very, very much to be willing to bear this huge hurt in silence. I do not know what to do beyond continuing to love her and urging her to seek counselling.
By now I am sure the reader realises that I have shared this sad situation without actually naming names in the hope that on at least one sober day of his life in the near future the son-in-law will read or be told about this column and become fearful for himself as a result. He should be very fearful for himself, because if my friend even so much as hints that it could, or has, happened again, I am prepared to risk losing my friend's confidence and perhaps even the loss of her friendship by naming names. Moreover, if news of this column does reach him, I hope he will seek some counselling too, because he is a very sick fellow.[The writer is a prisoner on death row in the United States. He is happy to receive letters commenting on his columns. He can be written to at: Brandon Astor Jones, EF-122216, G2-51, GD&CC, PO Box 3877, Jackson, GA 30233, USA.]