Victims of Sexual Abuse Are Speaking out against the State Statute of Limitations
By Daniel D'Ambrosio
Fairfield Weekly
June 19, 2008
http://www.fairfieldweekly.com/article.cfm?aid=8350
John Conran and Jennifer Aparicio appear to have little in common. Aparicio, 35, is a stay-at-home mom in Manchester. She watches over not only for her own two boys, but also the entire neighborhood.
"I'm the fill-in, part-time babysitter because day care is so gosh-darn expensive," said Aparicio. "I get a lot of, 'What would we do without you?'"
Conran, 49, still lives at home with his 77-year-old mother in Avon, and readily admits he's led a solitary life.
"I just haven't made a go of things," he says, his downcast, bookish features fixed with a permanent look of mild shock.
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| John Conran in front of St. Francis hospital Photo by Will Griggs |
Aparicio, by contrast, has an open, sunny face, big hazel eyes and a forthright manner.
But beneath the surface, Conran and Aparicio share a terrible secret and a gut-wrenching frustration. Both say they were sexually abused as children, and both say they are unable to seek justice because the state statute of limitations ran out.
"I don't see why there should be an age limit: there isn't one for murder, said Conran "Why should pedophiles get off the hook?"
Rep. Mike Lawlor (D-East Haven), is the chairman of the state legislature's judiciary committee. Lawlor explains that, in 2002, the legislature reached a compromise that extended the statute of limitations for sexual abuse of a minor from two years from the victim's 18th birthday to 30 years, or when the victim is 48.
In civil cases, such as those being brought against the infamous Dr. George Reardon, the St. Francis Hospital endocrinologist suspected of abusing hundreds of children over a 30-year period, the change was retroactive—but the revision applied only to civil cases.
"The bottom line is that we can't go back and reinstate a criminal case if the statute of limitations has expired," said Lawlor. "We can't revive it in any way."
Tragically, neither Conran nor Aparicio benefit from the change made in 2002. Both missed the revised deadline. Aparicio, who wanted to pursue a criminal case, missed the deadline by 11 years. Conran, who had his eye on a civil case, missed the deadline by one year.
Conran was one of Reardon's many victims, and gave West Hartford Police a statement and pictures of himself as a young boy. Police are combing through the gigantic cache of pornographic photos found in Reardon's house after his death in 1998 and looking for a match.
Conran was first sent to Reardon when he was eight years old. Just 10 minutes into his first visit, Conran said he was masturbated by Reardon, who told him it "might tickle."
Conran continued to see Reardon periodically until he was ten years old, but says he has only "glimmers of memories" of what happened. When he was in his 20s he went to see a proctologist, who revealed that he had a previously unknown incision in his rectum.
"I'm not gay, I never had gay sex, but someone put stitches in my rectum and that person was a doctor," said Conran.
He said he had a sick feeling in his stomach when Reardon was being publicly accused of being a pedophile.
"I have nightmares, I wake up screaming and don't remember what it was," said Conran.
Conran also admits to being an alcoholic, a binge drinker, but says he's not interested in getting help for his drinking problem.
"I know about the damage I'm doing," he said.
Aparicio, who declined to identify her abuser, says she was molested "continuously" from the age of 12 until at least the age of 18. "I don't remember exactly when it stopped," she said. "I just know by the time I was dating my husband at age 20 it wasn't going on."
Aparicio says she never told anyone she was being abused. She thought about writing coded entries in her journal at school, hoping teachers would be able to figure out what was happening. But she never did it.
"I was so scared, controlled and manipulated," she said.
Aparicio put on weight, she says to make herself unattractive to men, and went through rocky times in her marriage. She wasn't able to tell her husband the truth.
A partial recovery did not occur until the 10-year anniversary of her marriage, after she lost weight and somehow talked herself out of the guilt and shame she felt.
"I was worried things were almost too good," she said. "Something's going to explode."
Something did. Aparicio was abused again by the same man after she returned from an anniversary trip to Florida.
"It was very subtle, nothing as blatant as when I was a little kid," she said. "But it was like I was 14 again. I froze. I was screaming inside my head, 'No, this isn't happening,' but at the same time I didn't want to say anything because I was trying to prove I had forgiven my abuser."
Aparicio was able to leave before the abuse went too far, but once back in her car with her own children, she started screaming and pounding on the steering wheel.
"My kids were freaking out," she said. "I don't know how I made it home, I was driving like a maniac."
Aparicio put the weight back on, and her husband—concerned by her obvious turmoil—renewed his efforts to find out what had happened. She was finally able to tell him. Last year they went to the police to press criminal charges, only to learn she was far too late.
Because the change made in 2002 was not retroactive for criminal matters, she had five years from the age of majority (until she was 23) to press charges. But she was 34. "I felt victimized by the system," she says. "I wasn't ready to take action when I was 23."
Aparicio could still file a civil suit, but she says her abuser "has no assets," and she doesn't want his money anyway. She wants to force him to admit what he has done.
Conran could have benefited from the changes made in 2002, but he was 49 years old when he tried to press charges. He was a year too late, as an attorney for St. Francis Hospital politely informed him in a letter in August 2003.
"I was unhappy, so I went and I vandalized St. Francis Hospital and I got arrested for it," said Conran. He made a stencil that said Dr. Reardon had molested children and the hospital was covering it up, and began spray-painting the hospital building near the exit of the parking lot. The charges against Conran were later dismissed.
Aparicio recently decided to approach Sen. Mary Ann Handley (D-Manchester) about lifting the statute of limitations. It's unlikely, given the difficulty of reaching the 2002 compromise, said Lawlor. But if re-elected this fall, Handley said she plans on raise the issue.
"There are certain horrific crimes for which there is no statute of limitations," said Handley. "I think given our greater sensitivity to what sexual abuse of children means."
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