Hi Degs here,

 

Here are a few of my random memories concerning our outward bound endeavours.One name that springs to mind is Francis Hollahand.One winter ascent of Helvelyn we had to carry him from the summit with hypothermia primarily   because his walking boots had no tongues and let in snow. Another name to play with is Gerald Duffy he was part of a group that I was with that attempted a gold expedition in November, much against the advise of the inspector who came out from Kendal and stated that we were either stupid or real tigers to be going on the Lakeland fells at that time of year . After several mishaps,including losing one of our party on some fells called the hundreds above Ambleside in the dark, we abandoned our attempt and pitched our frozen tent in a farmers field where we were retrieved the following day.(real tigers)

The lads that supervised us from the centre in Dewsbury were fun if a little harsh.I remember one of them giving us a warning about using petrol to start a fire,which he then proceeded to do . The petrol can ignited, he dropped it and covered himself in burning fuel. Then there followed a quick lesson in how to extinguish a burning human.

Next instalment canoeing on the Calder(Francis features in another near death experience ) Photo is me(hanging)Gerald  Meen?(rear) Francis Hollahand?(on the floor) either Mitch or Gerry McLaughlin on the left .If you know any different let me know All the best Degs

IImage

ON THE BALL

Hi Degs here again with another intermittent  post

I may not be posting regularly but I am still managing to visit the site on a more regular  basis.It is pleasing to see that more MOB,s are contributing and commenting .However what you don’t  see are the viewing audience that some days can be well in excess of 100, giving us one viewer every 10 minutes or so .People are still interested in what is being said so don’t think that we aren’t being listened to. As well as that the audience is global,lets just say that it would be easier to list the countries where we don’t have watchers.

I hope that people have seen Tonys YouTube entries slightly before  my time but fascinating ,what a great collection of visual memories .Judging from the response so far it looks like the reunion is on its way to being another great success.I am looking forward to meeting and talking face to face with all the MOBs who have shown interest in the blog.(by the way Martin I play the banjo and the bodhran ,the two most unwelcome instruments in any session ,badly.So how about a bit of a jam then ??) It will be good to see everyone. Perhaps after a few beers we may be able to persuade  Mick and Eamon to carry on for one more.

There was an interesting piece in the Guardian about the popes decision to retire by Jonathan Freedland  .The crux of which was this “Benedict did too little to deal with sex offenders in the priesthood. He must be held to account- in this life not the next”

Here are two extracts from the article

When he was the archbishop of Munich, in 1980, the case of  Peter Hullerman crossed his desk. Fr Hullerman was accused of multiple crimes of abuse. In one case he had taken an 11 year old boy hiking in the mountains, plied him with drink, stripped him,locked the door  and forced him to perform oral sex.Yet Hullerman’s punishment was simply to be moved from Essen to Munich for therapy.Within days ,this known sexual predator was given pastoral duties with access to young people-and he promptly abused again.Benedict’s defenders have long insisted those fateful decisions were taken by his deputy .But the crucial documents,when they surfaced, said  otherwise.

The case of California priest Stephen Kiesle , convicted of tying up and molesting two boys in a church rectory.His superiors wrote to Rome in 1981 requesting the abuser be defrocked, warning of a scandal if he remained.After an initial request  for more information,Ratzinger took four years to deliver his reply.It came in Latin-and said his office needed more time to consider the case.No doubt grateful for the delay,Kiesle was able to return to one of his former parishes-in the youth ministry.

Dose this ring any bells with anyone ?There are several more examples even more outrageous it is well worth a read.

All the best Degs

Violin teacher Frances Andrade was found dead

The following post by A. Dean  highlights just how difficult and frightening  it can be for victims of sexual abuse to speak up and pursue a case against their abuser.

It is a very difficult and, at times, a   lonely path to take. However, as A. Dean wrote,  “the fight for justice can nevertheless be one worth waging – strength and solidarity are contagious, and future generations of children are protected.”

 

 

Less than a week after being cross-examined in Manchester Crown Court during the trial of Michael Brewer and his ex-wife Hilary (Kay) Brewer, violin teacher Frances Andrade was found dead at her home in Surrey of an apparent suicide. Her death was revealed to the court on 24th January, without the jury present. Mrs Andrade had been a pupil at Chetham’s School of Music in Manchester in the 1970s, where Michael Brewer was Choirmaster. Michael and Hilary Brewer have since been convicted of sexually abusing Mrs Andrade when she was 14 and 15.

Mrs Andrade’s son, Oliver Andrade, has shone a harsh spotlight on the justice system since his mother’s death, describing how being called a “liar” and a “fantasist” in front of the court was “more than even she could bear”. He criticized the court practice whereby Mrs Andrade was not given sufficient time to prepare with the barrister assigned to her case: “Being a case of the Crown Prosecution Service they had a barrister and [Mrs Andrade] was simply the complainant, not meeting him until the day of the case and talking for a scant 10 minutes outside of the court”. He continued: “this all meant that during the case she was unfamiliar with the process, unsure of what either barrister was trying to do and exceptionally uncomfortable throughout the entire thing.” He also accused the police of advising Mrs Andrade not to receive therapy until the end of the case, which he said deprived his mother of the help and support she needed.

Frances Andrade’s husband, Levine Andrade, has echoed his son’s words, describing how “Fran felt as if she was on trial. She kept saying: ‘I can see why nobody comes forward. I can see how people crack under the pressure’”.

Yet, at the end of the trial Judge Martin Rutland praised all counsel – including Kate Blackwell QC, the defence barrister who questioned Mrs Andrade – for their conduct in the case. Judge Rutland assured Kate Blackwell “You did your job, in that you put what had to be put to the witness”.

In addition, both the Crown Prosecution Service and the Greater Manchester Police have denied having advised Mrs Andrade not to seek therapy until after the trial. Detective Chief Superintendent Mary Doyle insisted that it is the police force’s “policy and practice to encourage victims to seek whatever support they need” and that “the advice to Frances not to seek support may have been given by another party but it was not the advice of Greater Manchester Police.” The CPS has released similar statements.

Yet in the end, a woman considered exceptionally able and intelligent, an accomplished professional and fine mother, took her own life due to the overwhelming pressures of pursing a case against those who had sexually abused her.  This represents not just a tragedy for Mrs Andrade and her family, but for survivors of sexual abuse, a harsh refutation of the idea that the justice system will work for them.

So where was the fault?

This is an important question. There is an exceedingly precarious balance between supportive protection for vulnerable witnesses, and a fair trial for defendants, who are entitled to a thorough testing of the evidence. Striking this balance is often more difficult in historic claims, where evidence may have degraded (witnesses may have died or cannot be found; memories fade), and the cumulative effects of suffering the scars of abuse may make it difficult for claimants to come forward at all, and to withstand the scorching scrutiny that is built into the adversarial system.

While the justice system exists to protect all of society, the fight in individual cases is also for the benefit of those who area victim of crime.  In this case, a conviction was achieved, but the victim was re-victimised in the process, and never witnessed the justice that her bravery and candour made possible. Indeed, we repeatedly see how survivors of child abuse must often battle forcefully to overcome feelings of guilt and shame just to disclose the criminal acts of their abusers for the first time to loved ones – so to be grilled before a court may seem impossibly daunting. Mrs Andrade’s sad death has underlined just how gruelling the road to liberation from childhood sex abuse can be.

But while asking what went wrong, we should not lose sight of the fact that the legal system is not just a place where claims of abuse are picked to pieces – it is also where they may succeed and bring justice, inspiring other survivors in doing so. Mrs Andrade was one of many victims of childhood sex abuse who has appeared in court, and for many, the legal system has delivered accountability and emancipation. Of course, there are multiple paths a survivor of childhood sexual abuse can take towards healing, and not all involve legal redress.  But Mrs Andrade’s death should not be interpreted as proof that the legal system is devoid of hope and support for survivors of child sex abuse.

There are measures in place to alleviate the difficulty faced by vulnerable witnesses. Pre-trial visits are available so that witnesses can become familiar with the court. There is access to witness care officers and specialised counsellors. Additionally, there are special in-court measures available for victims of sexual abuse who testify in criminal trials, for example screens to shield the witness from the defendant; a live televised link enabling the witness to give evidence during the trial from outside of the courtroom; video-recorded interviews; and various other measures. Information from the Crown Prosecution Service about these special measures can be found here.

As we wrote here, 2012 was a year of progress for child protection, and 2013 promises to capitalize on this momentum. The legal system is still the road less travelled for survivors of childhood sex abuse, but for every survivor who chooses it, others are often inspired to take courage, because they see they are not alone.  Though institutions that have enabled abusers may sometimes seem too big a beast to take on, and the legal system too daunting a tool, thousands of survivors have succeeded in bringing claims against their abusers and the schools, care homes, churches and other institutions that allowed them scope to abuse.  The fight for justice can nevertheless be one worth waging – strength and solidarity are contagious, and future generations of children are protected.

Keep the ball rolling

Hi Degs here

We have had a couple of turbulent months recently.So although I have been watching the site I  have not had the time to post.

Today I am laid up with a bad dose of Man Flu.The up side to it is that ,the house is quiet , and I have access to Sally’s new (out of bounds) iPad.

Firstly Micheal Fieldhouse is once again rallying the troops for another get together on the weekend of the 5 April 2013.With help from Eamon Crowe he is trying to contact as many old boys as possible.The weekend will be based in the Mirfield area.Once Avrils email problems have been sorted out we will post Micheals contact details.Thanks to them both for their efforts past and present.It has been through these events that these contacts have been started and maintained.I for one much rather prefer chewing the cudd over a few pints ((whilst trying to visualise the old boy in front of me as a young seminarian) than tapping away on a keyboard in isolation.

Over the past few months emails and posted comments have still been reaching us .Several private email that I have received have even drawn a tear from this old bearded Geordie.Some lads are still suffering in isolation,holding onto a feeling of guilt and shame that was inflicted on their innocence decades ago .I only hope that through that first contact some of their load may be lifted,and on reading through the blog and comments that realise they are not alone.My only misgiving is that perhaps through the blog painful memories that had been suppressed and successfully locked away have been dragged to the surface.If this is the case in any instance then I am truly sorry.

It is now obvious and beyond a doubt that abuse happened at MIrfield. The order remain silent .Is this because of the fear of litigation?.Then they have a right to be  fearful. Cast your eye over this blog,a storm is coming and it’s heading their way,A storm of biblical proportions.

Here is a nickname to play with MOB or MOB,S (mirfield old boy or boys) .Thanks to one of our watcher friend,and critic for that one. I for one am proud to be a MOB it is what made me who I am today however there is now a slight tinge of shame a shadow that blights those good extraordinary times.This I will have to live with but the knowledge that we are trying to right these wrongs and bring some kind of closure for the MOB,S who actually suffered restores my faith,not in the order, but in the mirfield old boys .This wonderful collection of individuals.If the Verona Fathers got one thing right,it was their recruitment.

Before the next reunion I am hoping to arrange a meeting anywhere (in the uk,apologies to Ben,Liam,Peter and all our overseas MOB,S) and at any time.My feeling is that there are a few of us traveling in the same direction heading for the same destination but traveling on different roads.Perhaps it might be beneficial  to meet and share our hopes and goals and any information that will help us to achieve them.Contact me in the first instance at kevindeignan@live.co.uk

My apologies for harping on about the negative side but hopefully we can continue walking down memory lanes in my next post.

All the best Degs (Kevin Deignan)

To do nothing is not an option I want to take.

Some people think that because the sexual abuse that happened at Mirfield took place such along time ago – in the 60’s and 70’s – the blog only serves to rake up deep and painful suffering for some, and disillusionment to others. This is, unfortunately, probably true for the majority of people that read and contribute to the site. It has been, and still is certainly, the case for me.

Some people, I know, think it is best to do nothing. To do nothing is one option; however, it is an option I have chosen not to take. Many children were abused by various priests in various ways at Mirfield, there is, now, no doubting that.

However, the parents and families of these abused children were also abused. For me, their abuse was about the abuse of friendship, a closeness they felt with the Verona Fathers, of trust, of placing your child, and in some cases, your children, with people you believed could, absolutely, do no wrong, and yet, many did. The instance that is never far from my consciousness is of the priest saying mass in the front room of my parent’s home and then later, being abused, in your upstairs bedroom when you were sick.

My parents are both dead now. My mother died last year. Neither my father nor my mother ever knew anything about the abuse that took place at home or at Mirfield. It would have caused them too much pain and suffering.

To do nothing is not an option I want to take.

A Mirfield boy

In Nardo’s Bedroom

Occasionally the ‘God Squad’ would say our evening prayers in Nardo’s bedroom. This did not happen that often at first – the chapel was still Nardo’s preferred place to pray with “his group.”  I remember he had an electric organ and our evening sessions of singing, saying prayers and generally spending time in Nardo’s room became more frequent.

I remember, in particular, the folk hymn ‘Kum Ba Yah – this was one of our favourites – and we would sing it with gusto and enthusiasm.

It was around this time that some of us – myself included – would go and see him alone in his room.  I and, I suspect others, became quite jealous if we knew that other members of the group – “The God Squad Group” – had been in his room or were with him.

For my part, Nardo began asking me to come to his room at specific times during free time in the evenings and weekends.

Self Harming

During the first term at Mirfield I just lived for the free day. As far as I remember, this took place during the middle of the term, and on a Saturday. Instead of spending the morning doing cleaning and housework, we were able to have ‘ free time’ from after morning mass until the evening service. On my first such day, I planned to get the train from Huddersfield to Liverpool and then spend time with my mum and dad in Liverpool City Centre. I could not wait, that Saturday could not come soon enough.

Because of my homesickness my studies during this period suffered, and I struggled in all aspects of the school curriculum.

I went through a period of self harming and became quite bald as a result of it. I would gently pull clumps of my hair out, put them together and then slowly stick them in my ear to give me a tickling effect. I would do this at various times of the day. However, I seem to remember that I did this, more often than not, during classroom lessons and during chapel services.

What I find incredible now, is that nobody at that time noticed what I was going through and how homesick and unhappy I was, and consequently how I was suffering mentally because of it. It was a very difficult and lonely time for me and I was pleased when Nardo arrived at Mirfield – he was attentive to me, and that took away the pain that accompanied my homesickness.

Depression

It all felt so sudden and traumatic. One minute I was with my family and part of it. The next I was alone and on my own.  With them driving off, waving goodbye and leaving me. My family had been substituted by many anonymous strangers.

All the security and love, the things that made me who I was, had gone and left me. The attachments, the touches, the sounds, everything that I had come to know and love, and be loved by, were no longer with me.

Even now, I find it difficult to use words, and to find words to describe the loss, pain and fear that I experienced then.

It didn’t seem to matter that the move to Mirfield had been discussed numerous times beforehand. I was a child, and until it became real, I viewed the move through the eyes and mind of the child that I was. The idea of the move was one of excitement and adventure. The reality was very, very different.

Looking back – especially when looking at the first term – I realise that what I was going through and feeling and experiencing was depression. I remember spending a lot of time on my own, sobbing my heart out – literally – and being totally withdrawn and existing and living in a world of my own.

My biggest fear was that, whilst I was away, everything at home would change and consequently I would not be loved by my family any more.  I needed constant reassurance that this was not happening.  And so wrote letters home every day, with either my mum or dad – usually my mum – replying to each one.

Mirfield

Fr. Fulvi visited us at home, and a weekend visit to Mirfield was arranged. My mum seemed especially keen for me to go, but my dad was not so enthusiastic. Some Catholic families thought that it was a great honour to have a priest in the family. The words “God chose you, you did not choose God,” I remember being said several times both before and during my time at Mirfield.

I do not remember much about my weekend visit. I recall being dropped off by my mum and dad and seeing the big building for the first time. It was very daunting going in the dormitory – with maybe 40 beds in it. I played football, went to the services – I don’t remember mixing with the other boys very much. However, I also don’t remember missing home – probably because I knew mum and dad were coming for me on Sunday night. I don’t think it occurred to my consciousness that this was, more than likely, going to be my home for the foreseeable future.

So in September 1969 I found myself being dropped off at Mirfield, the Verona Fathers Junior Seminary, to begin my training to be a missionary. I have this memory of everyone waving to me as they went back home.

The moment my family left me I knew I had made a terrible mistake. What was to follow was a period of extreme pain, fear, loneliness and isolation.

Verona Fathers

The first time I heard the name the Verona fathers, or Mirfield for that matter, was when Fr. Luciano Fulvi came to my school.  He was what was known amongst the Verona Fathers as their Vocations Director.  And it was his job to go around all the schools in the UK “seeking out” potential vocations for the priesthood and the religious life.  He must have done this job very well.  In the 1960’s junior seminaries were full.

It seems bizarre to me now, that as a child of 12 years old I could make such momentous decisions about leaving home and attempting to train to become a missionary.  No one in my family believed, or would have thought for one minute it would be me – my brother yes – but not me.

Anyway there I was, sitting in my class listening to Fr. Luciano Fulvi talk about the African Missions.  Or more importantly, as far as I was concerned, the African wildlife.   Even then I was passionate about wildlife and nature.  His stories of lions and elephants and of hunting and fishing were what hooked me.  The missions or missionary work did not play much part, and why should it?  I was a child and a dreamer and I already had that Nile Perch at the end of my rod and on the hook.

When Fr. Fulvi asked the inevitable question at the end of his talk, “is anyone interested?” my hand shot up and I ticked the box to say I wanted more information.