The testimony I remember may not be verbatim. I am remembering this from the best of my ability. I mostly remember tunnel vision, and the fear I had at the time of my testimony in court. The investigation started in late 2013, My dad, his wife, and ex-girlfriend were arrested and charged. The one woman waived her right to trial, and the other plead guilty and testified against my dad. The trial ended in 2015. I’m not the only victim.
I’ve been hesitant to talk about my dad’s trial. I think more so because I’ve blocked out so much. The entire thing was traumatic. I was terrified of confronting my father in public. I was heartbroken at the animosity from family who raised me. They knew me, knew the type of person I was, and I believed they would support me. My paternal grandmother being the main one to rip my heart to pieces. It hurt so much when she called me “a F***ing liar!” and said “I never want to speak to you again”. There was absolutely no hesitation from her, she instantly cussed me out, and I’ve never heard my grandmother cuss like that towards any of us grandkids. Most of my younger siblings don’t want or have no contact with me. My paternal uncles, (My dad’s twin, and their youngest brother) haven’t spoken to me at all since all of this came out. They chose sides, knowing what my dad was capable of, knowing that it could have been a possibility for him to do these horrendous acts. Yet they still chose to side with him and my grandmother.
I may sound a little bit bitter, and Lord, Jesus forgive me, I am still healing from that hurt. I only pray my grandmother acknowledges what she’s been denying most of her life. It shattered my heart because I believed, of all people, the woman who practically helped raise me, the woman I adored and gave a lot of credit to, denied, blamed, cut me out, and ultimately disowned me… if I could talk to anyone besides my stepmom, it was her, and at the time of this coming out she shattered my heart and spirit.
When it came time for us to testify, I remember feeling terrified. I wanted to see the courtroom before the jury showed up, so that I could see my “route” to the witness stand. When I went into the courtroom, I had an advocate with me, and at the time I suffered from uncontrollable panic attacks. I was near the third row of benches when I noticed my dad and his lawyer in the courtroom, and I instantly froze. My heart was racing, I couldn’t breathe, and I felt tears, but couldn’t cry. I was frozen in terror. I was afraid of my dad trying to intimidate me, or trying to convince me to drop all of this, or even attack me right there… I told my advocate that I couldn’t move. I told her “I can’t move, I’m having a panic attack, you have to make me move”. I literally couldn’t get my feet to move, everything shut down and I couldn’t process anything other than “He’s here, Oh my gosh, he’s here. Can I really do this?? He’s going to kill me…” The advocate was so sweet and reassuring, and she gently took me by the elbow and made me move, then guided me out of the courtroom. As soon as I saw my mom, I just went to her and hugged her and I said ” mom, he’s in there, I don’t know if I can do this”. She prayed over me, and I felt reassured and a peace I didn’t recognize at the time. There was a lot of prayer before, during, and after the trial. It took a lot of strength to testify.
We were sequestered away, and we went in order from oldest to youngest, with my mother testifying in between to “put the pieces together” (ex, My older brother, my older sister, then my mom, then me, and then my younger sister).
Actually, I think I testified last because I was the “most recent victim”, and the last to leave. None of us has heard each other’s testimony. First off, we weren’t allowed to be in the courtroom at the time for each other’s testimony, but we were allowed to be together after. It did make some people think we were trying to corroborate our stories. I remember laughing at that to the defense attorney because I haven’t seen my mom or siblings in over twenty years, the last thing we wanted to do was “make up a story”. I remember the prosecutor asking if I “wanted to be here today”. I looked her straight in the eyes and said “absolutely not! I’d rather be home with my son and husband than have to go through this”. I also remember that when I was testifying to very graphic, detailed accounts of what my father did; having to use all the anatomically correct and “proper” words for this, and exactly how it was said or done, I would zone out. I would be asked a question, then I would be asked again, and I would say, “I’m sorry, I zoned out for a moment”. I said it so much the judge had to ask me what I meant, so I explained it the best I could.
I told the judge that when I’m asked a question, it takes me a moment to calm myself enough to speak (I am a very shy person, and at the time hated public speaking, and I had tunnel vision almost the entire time, I focused on the prosecutor to keep myself grounded) and I would sometimes “go back to that place” I would mentally go back to the memory like I was living it all over again. I would focus on the wall or a spot on the ceiling while I was being sexually abused, and it’s like I went back but saw myself from a different perspective. I think that’s when the prosecutor asked if I wanted to be there, to prove a point to the jury. The judge asked if I needed a break, I said no, I can do this.
There was an officer behind the witness stand, and I was a little afraid because I was made to be afraid of the police growing up. I didn’t like people behind me, and not be able to see him. The officer ever so quietly and so kindly said “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen, you’re safe.” I felt so reassured, and at the same time, I believe God sent the presence of an angel to keep that protection around me.
When I was testifying about my suicide attempt, it was so difficult to get through. I told the prosecutor before the trial that I was afraid to get emotional in front of my dad because he saw it as a weakness, he “won” if he saw me cry, he essentially broke me every time… She told me that me being emotional is a good thing, that if I needed to let it out that I let it all out. And I did.
I remembered that night, and I was there again, and I remember testifying how angry I felt that I was at that point. I’ve already written about this if you want to read it… I remember I was afraid to look at the jury, because I was afraid to see judgment on their faces. They didn’t know me, the type of person I was, and would they honestly believe or care about what I had to say. When I was done with my testimony, the trooper told me that there wasn’t a single dry eye on the jury when I talked about my suicide attempt. It was hard for me to believe that strangers had some type of sympathy for me. My story mattered to them…
I also remember when the defense attorney was questioning me, my demeanor changed, I was guarded, defensive, and almost belligerent in my answers. I knew the questions were coming directly from my dad. What got me was, I was so afraid of my father looking at me, or seeing my emotions, that I lowered my chair (we had intermission), undid my side braid, and let my hair cover the left side of my face. I also moved my chair back a bit so that the judge’s bench partially covered me; I was basically “hiding” myself. Then the trial started again, and I was nervous for this part.
I heard my dad trying to get my attention, by “coughing” or tapping his pencil on his tablet or trying to say things a little louder than a whisper to get some kind of reaction from me. The attorney asked me “can you move up a little so we can see you better” I looked at him; I didn’t even think, and I said, “I’m perfectly comfortable right here” and I knew that was coming from my dad. I heard I think it was the state trooper say “yes!!” and praise me.
The defense attorney than asked the judge to order me to sit closer so they could see me, and I slightly panicked and thought I was going to be in trouble or placed in contempt, and the judge said “no, she said she’s perfectly comfortable where she’s at” I was so relieved, and quietly said “thank you”. There was so much that happened in that short amount of time, I honestly don’t remember. I wanted to get the trial transcripts, and go over my testimony, but I was afraid of remembering what I’ve forgotten. I am interested in trying to get them but that is a process also.
After a week of testimony, my dad was found guilty. I remember my sister and I were going on a road trip, as my other family had already gone back home after testifying. It was a difficult drive. I didn’t have to be there for the sentencing, and I had already given my victim impact statement (if I find a copy, I’ll post it). We were with our kids, and we stopped at a rest area to get some food when I received a phone call from the prosecutor. She told me that he had been found guilty. That we did it. The case itself was known as the worst case in the history of the county. My dad would ultimately receive up to 690 years in prison, the longest sentence in the state of Pennsylvania, I think. It was a career maker for most involved, and it was something that I didn’t realize how much of a big deal it actually was. This was my life. This was part of my story, I didn’t have any other choice, or know any other life, or experience. While the case was a “big story” a lot of it was kept private, and names where protected or redacted because we were minors when the abuse started…
Some of the journalists messed up a lot of the facts, and it angered me when I first saw a news article, but I realized that this is something that people go through. Some find justice. Some never get the chance to. I hope that those who never had the chance can find forgiveness. Not only for your abuser, but for yourself first. Forgive yourself. The abuse wasn’t your fault. You are not to blame. Someone took advantage of a vulnerability. You can choose whether or not you let your past cripple you. Rise above the abuse, acknowledge it, forgive, and seek God’s grace and healing. I didn’t realize I would heal as much as I am since starting this blog. I am so grateful. My story isn’t over, and God isn’t done with me yet. I am finally able to release this hurt, and trauma, and come into the person God created me to be, what He is calling me to do. I pray I can fulfill that. I said it before, I want what God wants for me, and my faith is only getting stronger. I’m still new to reading the bible, but it makes sense to me now, and I can actually understand and picture what I read. (when I read a book, it plays out like a movie in my head).
I am going to post some links. Once you realize, there is a lot of the same info. These are probably the most accurate, and I don’t want to overwhelm. Besides, people nowadays do their own research… Please respect the fact that multiple people and victims were involved. It’s difficult enough, and some of us are not ready to speak our story. Meanwhile, there are innocent, uninformed, or uninvolved people related to the victims and their families…
I know that most who are following this blog already know me, and my story, however I am trusting the process, and I know what kind of backlash could come from this… I have faith this is what I am supposed to do. Again, this is my story, my experience, and I am going to be alright! I trust God’s will for this project wherever it may lead.
Thank you for your time.
Links
Commonwealth v. Yerger, J-S93023-16 | Casetext Search + Citator
Closing arguments set in child sex abuse trial of ex-Phoenixville man – The Mercury (pottsmerc.com)