UNITED STATES
City of Angels
Kay Ebeling
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 16, 2014
I looked at the photos at bottom of this post and said, Oh my God, I didn’t see it before. That is the room, that is the window, covered over with bricks, that is the room.
In early 1955 I was taken to the Cardinal’s Mansion near downtown Chicago so that the bishop could get it through my head, “Stop babbling about Father Horne.” Because for the past two years I would not stop talking about the molestation. At five-seven years old, I didn’t see it as molestation, I saw it as this wonderful thing that made me feel wonderful and I wanted to tell everyone about it.
In that year or so period I had been a sexual predator myself, at six years old. On one occasion, I took my two male cousins under the covers in a bedroom during a family party, another time it was several kids in a Bartlett neighborhood in a tree house. I was showing them the wonderful thing Father Horne had showed me, just pull down your pants and put your finger there, see?
I was already a scandal at age six.
Apparently my parents turned to the Catholic Church for help.
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