Child abuse in the news

You don't have to be a genius, or a math whiz or believe in conspiracies to figure out why the media plays up the problems in the Roman Catholic church. If it is 1% of the sexual and physical abuse problem, it's too much, and should be reported. The question is, when there is an elephant, why go after the gnat? Answer: What other organization or entity has as much power and clout to affect health care, education, and social agendas?

The dirty little secret is it isn't priests that children need to fear; it's the men their mothers bring home for a night, a month, a year, or a life time. Almost every day I read about a child somewhere in the country so battered and bruised he's dead or comatose by the time good old mom and her boyfriend finally take him to the ER and report he fell out of bed, or down the basement stairs, or accidentally hung himself in a closet, or burned himself with her cigarettes on his buttocks, or just happened to be walking around in 10 degree weather with only a pajama top while mommy and "uncle" party at the neighborhood bar. Little boys seem to be a high percentage of these victims. If Hollywood or TV execs had to produce stories about strangers in mom's bed, they'd have to shape up the twisted sexual values we're force fed year after year and stop the tirades against Christians. Don't send me links about danger from natural father or mother, or domestic violence in general. I've seen them, read them.

I've shared this story before, but it's worth retelling. In 1961 I was working the cash register at the Green Street Pharmacy. One of my co-workers about my age (21) who waitressed at the lunch counter never smiled or talked. I was expecting my first child and probably had the usual complaints about aches and pains, or maybe I shared my anticipation--don't recall why she opened up to me. She took out a photo of her little girl whom her live-in boyfriend had beaten to death. She was pregnant and had to testify during his trial--and permanently lost custody of that baby, too. He went to prison. I can still see her sad face when I read these boyfriend-batters-baby stories.