In a recent journal entry I discussed the term "secondary victims."
These are those who are suffering indirectly as a result of a criminal act perpetrated by someone they knew and cared about. Most often these victims consist of family members and friends of the one who committed the crime. They were not the direct victims but must now suffer due the actions of the one whom they love. A wife whose husband gets put in prison, or a mother whose son does, are examples of secondary victims.
In my situation, my adoptive and birth families were devastated by my arrest and everything that unfolded in its aftermath. My adoptive father Nathan could be seen weeping openly before dozens of news media cameras that were right in his face. While my birth mother, Betty, did what she could to hide. So did my birth family, and who could blame them? The media was everywhere. They were afraid for their lives, and they had little to no privacy.
Both families had to try and cope with the "Son of Sam" nightmare as best they could. It took a toll on them. There was long nights of soul-searching and questions of "Why?" There were feelings of shame and humiliation, too.
But as time went on the suffering my birth mother had to go through was the worst of all. Within a relatively short time the media and various so called "talking-head experts" began to paint grossly inaccurate pictures of the relationship I had with my birth mother. This evolved into several twisted and incorrect stories that were hurtful, and even hateful.
Some of which are that when I met my mom Betty, that I was "disappointed" the meeting did not go well. While another claimed that when I saw my mother, I was filled with “boiling anger.”
And there's more. Another baseless report claimed that I was upset because my mom gave me away while keeping my sister. The ignoramus who came up with this was surely unaware that my sister was thirteen years older than me. She had a different father, and the circumstances of our births were very different. In the circumstances in which I was born, my mom had no choice but to entrust me to another couple. It was a wise and loving decision, and it was the correct one.
Still another theory by yet another "expert" claimed that I was devastated that my birth mother so "casually" gave me away. This is untrue. My mother fought my birth father Joe with all her strength to keep me. He was the one who told her, "No, the child must go."
Yet another genius psychologist, obviously a so called "know it all," declared that my initial encounter with my birth mother Betty, "...set off his urge to kill." Really? The reality is that when I met my mother it was love at first sight.
My Mom and I hit it off exceptionally well. I also met my sister at the same time. It was a dream come true. My Mom and sister were warm and welcoming. We were all talking at the same time trying to catch up on the missing years.
How sad these so-called professionals, who've never spoken to me, but apparently having craved a few minutes of fame for themselves, put their own theories and ideas out as facts. How equally unfortunate that the media, who so readily quoted these individuals, inadvertently helped to create these false narratives. This only added to my birth mother's grief, and to my adoptive family's pain, as well.
D. B.
In my situation, my adoptive and birth families were devastated by my arrest and everything that unfolded in its aftermath. My adoptive father Nathan could be seen weeping openly before dozens of news media cameras that were right in his face. While my birth mother, Betty, did what she could to hide. So did my birth family, and who could blame them? The media was everywhere. They were afraid for their lives, and they had little to no privacy.
Both families had to try and cope with the "Son of Sam" nightmare as best they could. It took a toll on them. There was long nights of soul-searching and questions of "Why?" There were feelings of shame and humiliation, too.
But as time went on the suffering my birth mother had to go through was the worst of all. Within a relatively short time the media and various so called "talking-head experts" began to paint grossly inaccurate pictures of the relationship I had with my birth mother. This evolved into several twisted and incorrect stories that were hurtful, and even hateful.
Some of which are that when I met my mom Betty, that I was "disappointed" the meeting did not go well. While another claimed that when I saw my mother, I was filled with “boiling anger.”
And there's more. Another baseless report claimed that I was upset because my mom gave me away while keeping my sister. The ignoramus who came up with this was surely unaware that my sister was thirteen years older than me. She had a different father, and the circumstances of our births were very different. In the circumstances in which I was born, my mom had no choice but to entrust me to another couple. It was a wise and loving decision, and it was the correct one.
Still another theory by yet another "expert" claimed that I was devastated that my birth mother so "casually" gave me away. This is untrue. My mother fought my birth father Joe with all her strength to keep me. He was the one who told her, "No, the child must go."
Yet another genius psychologist, obviously a so called "know it all," declared that my initial encounter with my birth mother Betty, "...set off his urge to kill." Really? The reality is that when I met my mother it was love at first sight.
My Mom and I hit it off exceptionally well. I also met my sister at the same time. It was a dream come true. My Mom and sister were warm and welcoming. We were all talking at the same time trying to catch up on the missing years.
How sad these so-called professionals, who've never spoken to me, but apparently having craved a few minutes of fame for themselves, put their own theories and ideas out as facts. How equally unfortunate that the media, who so readily quoted these individuals, inadvertently helped to create these false narratives. This only added to my birth mother's grief, and to my adoptive family's pain, as well.
D. B.
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