Jan. 23, 2012

Last week I visited Avery-Mitchell Correctional Institution in Spruce Pine to talk to Junior Chandler, who soon will have served 25 years on charges strikingly similar to those in the Little Rascals case.

Junior, now 54, may well be the last still-imprisoned victim of the ritual-abuse contagion that swept the nation’s day cares in the ’80s and early ’90s.

I’ll be updating his case soon.

In Junior’s former life in the mountain town of Revere, he told me, he was close to his parents, his wife and two boys, his two brothers.

Early on, he and his brothers helped their uncle grow tobacco and corn. Before driving a van for the Madison County Day Care Center, he had worked for the Forest Service, the Department of Transportation and Southern Railroad. At least one job he gave up because it interfered with his softball tournaments and night fishing.

In prison, visits from his family became less frequent, and eventually his wife filed for divorce. “Two life sentences,” Junior says. “She couldn’t wait, you know.” And his sons couldn’t keep watching him aging away in his prison grays.

When his father died in 1997, he attended the funeral in handcuffs. He worries about his mother, who recently suffered a stroke.

He sleeps in a bunk bed in a dorm with 33 other inmates. His assigned janitorial job is cleaning meal trays. For relaxation he plays volleyball and horseshoes, watches Westerns on TV, reads a little. His only write-up was a scuffle not long after he arrived. “It’s learning to walk away and how to carry yourself,” he says.

Of course I was touched by Junior’s deep sadness and resignation. Sometimes I find it too easy to minimize the emotional havoc wrought by incarceration of the guilty – just imagine what it must be like for the innocent.

Oct. 1, 2012

“Since 1983, public and professional interest in maltreatment of young children in day care has increased dramatically. It was then that children first began disclosing allegations of sexual and ritual abuse in the McMartin preschool.

“Although accounts of children being terrorized during satanic rituals seemed bizarre and unbelievable, alarmingly similar allegations against child care facilities throughout the United States prompted public officials, educators and parents to more fully examine the phenomenon. The sheer number of reports and amount of information collected (for legal and therapeutic purposes) provided a rich data base for study.

“Children reporting ritual abuse (RA) have described ceremonial animal and human mutilation and sacrifice, live burial, sacrificial participation or witness, ingestion of human blood, feces, urine and semen, and death threats should they disclose the abuse.

“It should be noted that some doubt the existence of RA….  The prevailing literature since the McMartin case, however, demonstrates that researchers find the evidence too compelling to dismiss…. Perhaps the most reasoned yet sensitive approach to validation is neither unquestioned acceptance nor unequivocal denial, but critical judgment….”

– From “Variables and risk factors associated with child abuse in daycare settings” by Ruth B. Schumacher and Rebecca S. Carlson in Child Abuse & Neglect: The International Journal (September 1999)

Predictably, the references listed by Schumacher and Carlson include an old-school Who’s Who of bad science: e.g., Kathleen Coulborn Faller, David Finkelhor (misspelled “Finklehor”), and Susan J. Kelley (misspelled “Kelly”).

But the authors also cite skeptics Jeffrey S. Victor (“Satanic Panic”), David Bromley and Lee Coleman.

How can this be? How can Schumacher and Carlson have been exposed to such persuasive debunking, yet conclude that “neither unquestioned acceptance nor unequivocal denial” is called for?

Big Tobacco realized early on that instead of beating back every new attack on smoking’s health risks, it needed only to frame the issue as a continuing “controversy” with “two sides.” But what possible advantage accrues to social scientists who take that approach?

Sept. 10, 2012

“You saw those initial documentaries, you make a choice: Am I going to watch the thing and go ‘Wow, that’s really horrible,’ and go out and get a milkshake?”

– Johnny Depp, tracing the roots of his advocacy for the West Memphis Three

That could be me talking – except that the eye-opening documentaries for me were “Innocence Lost” rather than “Paradise Lost,” that I’m a retired newspaperman rather than a Hollywood actor and – most crucial – that I went out for a figurative two-decade milkshake run rather than responding immediately to the outrage I was seeing on screen. Hats off to WM3 advocates such as Depp, who moved quickly to challenge prosecutors every bit as recalcitrant as those in North Carolina.

June 15, 2012

“How did such a large group of child molesters assemble? This is not New York, this is Edenton, North Carolina.”

– Edward B. Simmons, making his closing argument on behalf of Dawn Wilson (Jan. 14, 1993)