Greg Correll (he/him)
I was in jail at fourteen, in 1970, for being an incorrigible runaway. It was St. Louis, in a “lost cause” facility where boys from 8 to 17 were waiting for sentencing, almost always to infamous Boonville (the former long-term director blithely described to a reporter (see below) how boys were raped in hallways and in the cafeteria, and there was nothing he could do with such animals).
With the help of corrupt guards I was made to take my turn in a cell with three older boys, who raped, tortured and humiliated me for five days and nights.
It has taken me over forty years to be able to speak of this. All the things ignorant teen boys, themselves brutalized, can do to pretty, younger boys when guards permit unfettered control, day and night, in a locked cell. I required corrective surgery later for what they did to me, including an anusectomy.
I was “lucky” because the judge decided to let my mother take me home at my hearing. But every day is still that day, that cell, those faces and hands.
Being brutally raped changed everything about my life. I re-entered the world of ordinary suburban 9th grade, at a time when America could not face the truths about girls and women being raped, much less boys and men (we still blame the victim, and excuse the rapist). For years, I invented layers of “self” to seem ordinary, to “get over it” all on my own. I had a nervous breakdown in college that I “walked off.”
I became a single parent at 20, and I devoted myself to my daughter. This was spectacularly good for her, and in some ways tragic for me, because I lived within an inauthentic, self-denying heroic bubble for decades, convincing myself I had nullified everything by being a good dad.
One cannot escape severe trauma though. After my daughters went on to successful lives I fell apart. I had no more purpose if I wasn’t heroic dad, and all that I thought I had resolved came crashing back into my life. I found myself bitter, resenting the good life my children had, that everyone seems to have. I began to obsess about hunting down those guards.
A founder of the Bristlecone Project, who had interviewed me, has located a man who apparently was also assaulted in my facility in 1969. He is currently serving a life sentence in California. We are trying to arrange communication, and (I hope) a visit. I am mortally afraid of going into any kind of facility but I want to embrace him. He is a murderer but I want to tell him: it wasn’t his fault, back then—at the beginning of us—what they did to him, to us.
It will be terribly sad for both of us. But I hope that where there is one there will be many, and if any of that staff is above ground, a reckoning is coming. A goddamn reckoning.
I was fourteen. That truth resonates like a bell, over and over, and destroys me. I cry every day now.
I recently answered this question on Quora.com: what was the most awful thing I saw in prison? It was the look on the nine-year-old boy’s face who took his turn after me in that cell. I did nothing to help him. I could do nothing, I know that now, but I will spend the rest of my life believing I should have died trying.
6 Comments
Thank you, TMI.
Hi Greg, I am so very sorry what happened to you. Thank you for sharing your story. I am also a survivor of sexual abuse that happened when I was much younger. Sometimes it takes a long time to process what happened and to understand that none of it is your fault. As I said to another commenter and I will repeat to you: Don’t let their disgusting evil acts consume you. NEVER give them that satisfaction…they do not deserve it. Live your life to the upmost happiness YOU deserve! I am glad that your daughter’s provided a release from the stress and horror of what happened to you. My daughter as well helps keep me grounded. I also felt as you did “I found myself bitter, resenting the good life my children had, that everyone seems to have.” It’s tough…being resentful of others. I remind myself all the time that it was not my fault…this helps me to feel free from my horrific events. I wish you peace and love in your heart. Remember you are not alone.
https://m.riverfronttimes.com/stlouis/the-boys-from-boonville/Content?oid=2475061
https://www.boonvilledailynews.com/article/20101229/NEWS/312299993
i was gang-raped in a neighborhood park by five older boys when i was just barely 9. not one day goes by that i don’t see their faces and hear the moans of pleasure from the one whose turn it was and the laughter of the others. They were each 14 years old. I do know what happened to each of them. Two of them ended tragically in high school- a knife fight at a drunken party……. One of them is in prison for sex traffiking (young boys and girls as well as a few adult women). The other two have gone on to respectable successful lives with no apparent consequences of any kind. I now live several states away. That was 53 years ago next month. But the fear and degradation and shame are still just as fresh for me each day………
Hi Lin, I am so very sorry what happened to you. I am also a survivor of sexual abuse that happened when I was much younger (I am in my fifties as well). Sometimes it takes a long time to process what happened and to understand that none of it is your fault. Don’t let their disgusting evil acts consume you. NEVER give them that satisfaction…they do not deserve it. Live your life to the upmost happiness YOU deserve!
Saying “I’m sorry that happened to you” to you means little I know …it happened and kept going on by 8 hitch hiking hippy surfer boy living at the time in San diego,Ca.USA long blond hair offered candy by man in a van got in encouraged by my uncle to go out have sex for drugs or money or both
I got in we drove to a nearby view spot went in back of the van he loaded candy(cocaine) into the pipe lighted while I took the hit exposed his cock having me stroke it giving himself hit then me but for my shorts pulled down,for fingering oiling up my cheeks,he was big,black man I wanted another hit and he gave me one .. big …fat…long hard…dick…thrusting it in laughed he said
“Oh ya little white hippy boy what would your white daddy say if he seen you know?”
“He’s in prison for running drugs but his brother like fucking me watching me fucked”
“well lets do you hard !…my friend is overdue”
“Your hurting me!…fuck me Mr. then kill me!”
Another man like him drove up next to the van other cars parked could hear them fuck me when they finished gave me a bag of dope knowing I wouldn’t talk my cut offs shorts they made very very skimpy made me drink hard booze in a view spot a few miles from the next town…got to Cardiff,Ca.state campground said nothing went to see my friend of boys I knew hung out with..A dealer who smoked cocaine with them he invited me in gave me hits I told him what happened he was cool wanted some pictures and filmed showing me a tape he made and switched it to the tape he made with another boy gave me a big hit showed me a bag for me if I did or he was going to anyway I tried to go his belt put around my neck
“Ok ok I’ll do it”
He gave it to me kept the belt as a choker around my neck as well as using a horse whip while fucking me let 2 other men do me used me when I got home my uncle hearing the story fucked me I was in trouble for ditching school sent to principles office where I was spanked with a paddle 10 times bare bottom for each day missed 3 days total 30 times hard still had to explain why so I told the black principle nothing about my uncle but did tell him I was fucked he wanted to see and me get on my knees naked from waist down he doughted what I said but put Vaseline into my ass and shoved his fingers in until 4 fingers were in to the knuckle it didn’t hurt and told me to wait after school to drive me home talk to my uncle so that’s what happened they talked very friendly my uncle left he cane to talk to me saying I wasn’t in trouble as long as I did as he said came in had me get down on the floor same as before then took out hit dick and fucked me…hurt but felt good as well the mature man next door came over as he left making sure things were ok and took me to his home where a small party was going on talked to my uncle the phone handed to me I was told I did very well to do what the neighbor said and a reward would come my way and I should make a effort to learn to suck dicks and he wanted me to learn on my own so I did back then boys were encouraged to lick lollipop when you did have it forced down your throat gag,or choking on it was great film viewing and as a boy did so would have to take it deeper …longer…no mercy…repeatedly the neighbor man took me to different houses in a limo meeting men in their limos going to big places in La jolla,downtown ,or mission hills,palm springs,LA,night clubs,meeting Catholic church high rank…boy scouts owners/troop leaders who had magazine and made porn films as well…now I’m 34 live in Monterey,Ca.
If your an adult man mature who used to look for boys along the coastline I used to go up to San Francisco from San diego often taking the greyhound to avoid hitch hiking but still had to here and their I’m not tall 5’4 height,now,152 lbs now,still have long blond hair,now looking for m4m regardless if your on the west coast lets talk…