- Joined
- Apr 6, 2002
- Messages
- 1,979
[continued]
Angry.
She wants people to know she didn't say she was 18. She wasn't just below the age of consent. She was 6 years old.
She wants people to know how charming Donald Ebersold was, how handsome and kind and deceiving.
"I was young and innocent, and he took all that away," she said by phone from another state.
She has something called vasovagal syncope, where she passes out under stress or at the sight of blood. Absolutely blacks out and collapses, from what happened to her.
It's getting better now. She can put a Band-Aid on herself. She believes it's all in her head. But still it's there.
There are other effects, of course. The silent ones. For a while she had her own three-second rule: no one could touch her for longer than that. That's getting better. Trusting people, though. How can you ever trust anyone again?
Her mother struggles, too. Still working through things even to this day. They both are.
Last year, the mother got the notice from the Department of Corrections saying where Ebersold would live upon his release. She recognized the address as the one on the park.
"All I thought about were the kids in the neighborhood. It scared me to death," she said.
Mom is amazed though at what her daughter HAS been able to accomplish despite it all. She gushes about the two college degrees she earned at the same time one in fine art, the other in criminal justice. She wants to work in law enforcement, the mom emphasizes.
Today's accomplishments still entwine with the horror of the past, though.
Between gushing, mom recounted standing in the hospital room when her daughter had the physical exam, hearing the doctor tick off "2 o'clock, 9 o'clock" as they mapped the scarring for evidence.
"It's bothering me the people in the neighborhood don't know any of this," she said.
But it's easier not to know, isn't it?
It's easier to believe in myths.
-------------------------------------------------
The posts above represent the article that was promised to my best friend by the reporter for the Palm Beach Post. The story is about her neighbor.
Angry.
She wants people to know she didn't say she was 18. She wasn't just below the age of consent. She was 6 years old.
She wants people to know how charming Donald Ebersold was, how handsome and kind and deceiving.
"I was young and innocent, and he took all that away," she said by phone from another state.
She has something called vasovagal syncope, where she passes out under stress or at the sight of blood. Absolutely blacks out and collapses, from what happened to her.
It's getting better now. She can put a Band-Aid on herself. She believes it's all in her head. But still it's there.
There are other effects, of course. The silent ones. For a while she had her own three-second rule: no one could touch her for longer than that. That's getting better. Trusting people, though. How can you ever trust anyone again?
Her mother struggles, too. Still working through things even to this day. They both are.
Last year, the mother got the notice from the Department of Corrections saying where Ebersold would live upon his release. She recognized the address as the one on the park.
"All I thought about were the kids in the neighborhood. It scared me to death," she said.
Mom is amazed though at what her daughter HAS been able to accomplish despite it all. She gushes about the two college degrees she earned at the same time one in fine art, the other in criminal justice. She wants to work in law enforcement, the mom emphasizes.
Today's accomplishments still entwine with the horror of the past, though.
Between gushing, mom recounted standing in the hospital room when her daughter had the physical exam, hearing the doctor tick off "2 o'clock, 9 o'clock" as they mapped the scarring for evidence.
"It's bothering me the people in the neighborhood don't know any of this," she said.
But it's easier not to know, isn't it?
It's easier to believe in myths.
-------------------------------------------------
The posts above represent the article that was promised to my best friend by the reporter for the Palm Beach Post. The story is about her neighbor.