In 2007, when he was 87 years old, I Googled Bill Bricker and found a flattering profile written about him, previously published in the Glen Arbor [MI] Sun in 2005. [If only the article had been written twenty years earlier.]
I posted the article on my blog, because a friend of mine told me years before that he had been molested by Bricker during scouting overnights. I made a cryptic remark at the end of the article, wondering why Bricker left his teaching job, hoping to see what kind of comments my query and the profile would generate. Thus began the long and winding road to Bill Bricker's arrest seven years later for inappropriate behavior with three minors.
Over the next several years, lots of people began to comment for and against Bricker on the blog. Always anonymously.
One victim, who never told me his name, decided to get a Chicago attorney involved with an eye toward criminal or civil charges against Bricker. He even called me on the phone [anonymously, with the number blocked], when I was discouraged by the lack of people coming forward at the time. Ever hopeful for a result, I tried to help out by posting the lawyer's information.
In 2012, I was contacted via this blog and my email, by a detective with the Teton County, WY, Sheriff's office. She wanted me to list her contact number on the blog for anyone who had been molested by Bill Bricker in Wyoming. With help from comments they found on the blog, there was an active, open, ongoing investigation against Bricker. After the years of whispers, I was very pleased to hear that an investigation was under way in Wyoming which, unlike Illinois, didn't have a statute of limitations.
However, a year later, she called back wondering why she hadn't heard from more victims.
It became clear that the shame and humiliation of sexual abuse were too great for the victims, both boys and girls, to feel comfortable revealing themselves, no matter what I, or anyone else who tried to help, could do.
Finally, at the end of September, 2014, the ailing, now 94-year old former teacher/scoutmaster/camp counselor was arrested. Three credible victims had come forward. His double life was over. His decades of depravity had been revealed. He was arrested and taken from his medical re-hab facility and put in a cell before his arraignment. The press perked up and took an interest.
The years of rumors became a moment of truth for Bill Bricker's victims. More victims felt empowered to come forward. More papers carried the story.
The arrest was then followed by weeks and weeks of lawyers fighting for Bricker's extradition.
Followed by Bricker's death.
With Bricker's passing, this chapter of my life is over. I am on to other things. If there are postscripts, I will share them.
But for now, I'd like to give it a rest.
Showing posts with label Hubbard Woods School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hubbard Woods School. Show all posts
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Requiem for Molested Children
The murder of a child is the cruelest death of all. Our hearts break. The loss feels incomprehensible. Trying to cope with the murders of multiple children can overwhelm the emotional reserves of an entire community, a whole city, even a country.
While the world never knew them, no one will ever forget the nineteen babies and toddlers of Oklahoma City. Or the twenty school children of Sandy Hook Elementary School. We are also reminded daily of the ongoing, never-ending mass murders of children all across the world.
In the wake of these kinds of deaths, we struggle with the horror as we attempt to honor their memories. How do you celebrate a life un-lived? The years of promise unfulfilled -- all gone in an instant?
To assuage the emotional upheaval caused by these unimaginable losses, memorials have been held. Monuments have been built. And requiems have been written.
But what about the children whose souls have been silently and slowly extinguished by sexual predators like Bill Bricker? The children who die slowly, gradually over the passage of time, left to live with corrosive memories of abuse that eats them from the inside. The children who become alcoholics or drug addicts. The children who begin to suffer from mental illness. Or the children who can no longer bear the pain and finally commit suicide.
Who will honor the dozens and dozens of boys and girls abused by Bricker, who have suffered alone, tortured for decades with the nightmares of remembrance, dying a thousand times each day, crushed under the weight of shame and humiliation, molested by someone they trusted?
Each one of these children was enthusiastically sacrificed to the respected teacher, scout leader, and camp counselor by the same adults charged with their protection. He was a war hero. So they ignored the complaints. He was popular. So they refused to believe the victims. He had powerful friends. So everyone looked away while Bricker cut the hearts and souls out of three generations of defenseless children.
Who will write their requiem? Who will build a monument worthy of their memories?
• • • • •
An anonymous, handwritten note in Bill Bricker's Winnetka school file estimated that he had molested at least 100 children during his decades as a school teacher, scout leader, and camp counselor. These are lives that Bill Bricker destroyed in countless ways. He took away one child's unbridled eagerness, happiness and joy. He ended another child's future dreams and smothered his innocence. He wreaked havoc on dozens and dozens of other children, with psychic devastation that followed many into adulthood.
He could have been stopped years ago. He should have been tried and he would have been convicted.
But despite what Bricker did, many of the boys and girls he took advantage of became productive, successful members of society. They survived, albeit wounded. As one of Bricker's survivors pointed out, "I don't know how the molestation affected me, but I know it affected me."
Bill Bricker died a few days ago, having squeezed every possible accolade and honorarium he could out of his undeserved ninety-four years. Thanks to law enforcement in Wyoming, Bricker's enablers in Illinois could no longer protect him. His illegitimate legacy has been erased with his arrest in September of 2014 for inappropriate behavior with three minors. His public humiliation encouraged of some of his silent victims to finally come forward and speak out about what he did to them.
A newspaper account of Bricker's passing noted that he would be cremated. There would be no services and no burial.
Hearing this, someone suggested that his ashes should be flushed down a toilet. I thought the idea was worth mentioning.
While the world never knew them, no one will ever forget the nineteen babies and toddlers of Oklahoma City. Or the twenty school children of Sandy Hook Elementary School. We are also reminded daily of the ongoing, never-ending mass murders of children all across the world.
In the wake of these kinds of deaths, we struggle with the horror as we attempt to honor their memories. How do you celebrate a life un-lived? The years of promise unfulfilled -- all gone in an instant?
To assuage the emotional upheaval caused by these unimaginable losses, memorials have been held. Monuments have been built. And requiems have been written.
But what about the children whose souls have been silently and slowly extinguished by sexual predators like Bill Bricker? The children who die slowly, gradually over the passage of time, left to live with corrosive memories of abuse that eats them from the inside. The children who become alcoholics or drug addicts. The children who begin to suffer from mental illness. Or the children who can no longer bear the pain and finally commit suicide.
Who will honor the dozens and dozens of boys and girls abused by Bricker, who have suffered alone, tortured for decades with the nightmares of remembrance, dying a thousand times each day, crushed under the weight of shame and humiliation, molested by someone they trusted?
Each one of these children was enthusiastically sacrificed to the respected teacher, scout leader, and camp counselor by the same adults charged with their protection. He was a war hero. So they ignored the complaints. He was popular. So they refused to believe the victims. He had powerful friends. So everyone looked away while Bricker cut the hearts and souls out of three generations of defenseless children.
Who will write their requiem? Who will build a monument worthy of their memories?
• • • • •
An anonymous, handwritten note in Bill Bricker's Winnetka school file estimated that he had molested at least 100 children during his decades as a school teacher, scout leader, and camp counselor. These are lives that Bill Bricker destroyed in countless ways. He took away one child's unbridled eagerness, happiness and joy. He ended another child's future dreams and smothered his innocence. He wreaked havoc on dozens and dozens of other children, with psychic devastation that followed many into adulthood.
He could have been stopped years ago. He should have been tried and he would have been convicted.
But despite what Bricker did, many of the boys and girls he took advantage of became productive, successful members of society. They survived, albeit wounded. As one of Bricker's survivors pointed out, "I don't know how the molestation affected me, but I know it affected me."
Bill Bricker died a few days ago, having squeezed every possible accolade and honorarium he could out of his undeserved ninety-four years. Thanks to law enforcement in Wyoming, Bricker's enablers in Illinois could no longer protect him. His illegitimate legacy has been erased with his arrest in September of 2014 for inappropriate behavior with three minors. His public humiliation encouraged of some of his silent victims to finally come forward and speak out about what he did to them.
A newspaper account of Bricker's passing noted that he would be cremated. There would be no services and no burial.
Hearing this, someone suggested that his ashes should be flushed down a toilet. I thought the idea was worth mentioning.
Saturday, October 11, 2014
A Bill Bricker Backstory Part I
[A reminder: Bill Bricker has been arrested on two counts of inappropriate contact with a minor. These accusations and many others are alleged to be true by his accusers. I am inclined to believe them. However, he is innocent of any and all charges until proven guilty in a court of law.]
How did I get into this Bill Bricker firestorm? While my family has lived in Winnetka, IL. since 1954, Bill Bricker was never my gym teacher, because I never went to Hubbard Woods School. He was never my Boy Scout leader, because, like Little League, I was not eligible. And he was never my counselor at Camp Douglas Smith in Michigan or Teton Valley Ranch Camp in Wyoming.
So, he never took me into his office and lifted up my shirt on my birthday; he never sat me on his lap with his hand under my dress or inside my panties at recess; he never grabbed or rubbed me between the legs at the Halloween Haunted House; and I never had to share his sleeping bag with his genitals rubbing against my back. These are behaviors alleged by just some of the people who have come forward with their claims of abuse.
But I had relatives and friends who did attend Hubbard Woods School, several of whom said they avoided Bricker especially on their birthdays. I also had friends and relatives who were in Troop 18, one of whom was the first person who told me he had been molested.
And I have this blog. Thanks to a single news article about Bricker from 2005, which I re-posted on my blog in 2007, along with the passage of time, the Teton County [WY] Sheriff's office, and the rising courage of some brave people who are finally able to come forward, the North Shore's most notorious teacher, scout leader, and camp counselor has been arrested.
IN THE BEGINNING
Between fifteen and twenty years ago -- neither one of us can remember exactly -- a childhood friend reconnected with me. We had first met in the 1950's, when we were ten or eleven, riding the bus from summer swimming classes at New Trier High School in Winnetka, IL. My first impression of him has stayed with me all these years -- Holy Cow!! He's probably the cutest boy I've ever seen. My second impression? His dark eyes were beyond intense and piercing. They smoldered with anger. In fact, I can still see him staring right through me after a mutual friend introduced us.
Since we were the same age, I thought [I hoped] we would be in the same grade when school started, except he had been held back that year for some reason. We didn't meet again until high school. As luck would have it, one of my best friends became his high school girlfriend. So he and I became buddies.
After college we all went our separate ways. My girlfriend married someone else. He did the Haight-Ashbury thing in the Sixties, becoming a roadie for some heavy duty bands, then spending two years traveling throughout India. I started my career in advertising, did improv with Second City's first Monday Night cast, and modeled on the side [I was Miss Goosepimple of 1967 for Zonolite insulation].
Thirty years later, when we were in our fifties, he sent me a letter. Still living in California, he was now a divorced father with custody of some or all of his kids. Since they were older, it had been their choice to stay with their dad. Obviously he connected in a good way with his children. He seemed to enjoy single parenthood and he was looking forward to becoming a granddad.
Later that year, during a 'what's new with you?' phone call, he told me something that raised a red flag about his childhood. Owner of his own business, which had become a turnkey operation, he said he was donating his free time to a nonprofit that helped young, single mothers get back on their feet to find jobs. What did he do to help? He volunteered as a babysitter for their kids. On the face of it, that information seems fairly innocuous. But my sixth sense locked in.
It is arguably rare for a middle-aged man to volunteer as a babysitter. But rather than just assume he was a pedophile, I wondered whether his obvious care and concern for children might have something to do with being molested himself as a boy? I recalled his angry eyes when we were eleven and how he had been kept back a year in school.
With a Freudian psychoanalyst for a father, you learn to listen with a third ear. It's not just what people say; it's what you can hear between the words. Eventually this drill becomes automatic, almost second nature. The good news is you can become a more empathetic and understanding person. [I'm still working on that.] The bad news is that it tends to annoy the heck out of your family and friends. Since the unexamined life was never an option for me growing up, I am hardwired with endless curiosity to know what makes people tick. Over time my fallback analysis of people with significant psychological issues is that they have suffered the trauma of sexual abuse -- much to my children's annoyance. "Mom, not EVERYONE has been molested!" Sometimes, however, I really and truly wonder.
My friends will be shocked to learn that I waited a whole year to find out whether or not my childhood friend had been molested. Listening patiently really isn't one of my greatest strengths. Telling you things is more my style. But I didn't have to ask; he told me. We were discussing something about Bill Bricker [I don't remember the context] and he said, "He molested me." I was stunned. My first thought was, "For once you were right!" Apparently the years of rumors about the charismatic scout leader's alleged behavior might be true after all. Certainly for one boy. But that was just the first step in a journey that has taken the better part of twenty years.
Later that year [still 15-20 years ago if you're keeping track], I talked to someone else who had also been in Bricker's Troop 18. I mentioned to him that someone we knew told me he had been molested by Bricker. Before I could express my own shock at first hearing this news, he suddenly blurted out, "He molested me, too." Without getting into too much detail, his behavior had become quite toxic in his early teens, something his parents chalked up to teenaged rebellion. But happy kids don't act out. Troubled ones do. As an adult he had become an alcoholic. He now thinks people are trying to kill him with microwaves. And yes, he wears an aluminum hat on occasion. He called me a couple of years ago about getting his affairs in order, since he claimed his death was imminent. I asked how soon he was going to die. He said he would be dead in thirty days. Wow. The thirty days have long passed. Now, when he has called, I say things like, "Hey, aren't you supposed to be dead?" A reality check tends to be my fallback when talking to delusional people. His messed up existence is just one example of the aftermath that can occur from sexual abuse. Full disclosure -- he called me later to retract what he had said about being molested. I told him his life said otherwise.
Suddenly I was carrying an emotional weight that felt very heavy -- to this day. Within days or weeks of each other, two men I had known since childhood had told me that Bill Bricker molested them.
Did I know anyone else? And I remembered a third possible victim. My girlfriend, whose boyfriend had been the first to tell me about his abuse, had a younger brother who had also been in Bricker's Troop 18. He started hearing voices in high school and committed suicide when he was in college in the Sixties. Like most of the victims coming forward now, he never told anyone he had been molested before his suicide, so we will never know for sure. But killing himself to escape his ferocious inner turmoil, likely caused by an adult he trusted, is another reminder of the damage left in the wake of sexual abuse.
I remember calling his sister a few years ago to tell her I was fairly convinced that the pain and shame of molestation could explain why he took his life. She felt the same way I did.
There have been other suicides. In fact, in the early eighties, Time Magazine ran an article on September 1, 1980, about the suicide epidemic on the North Shore, where Bill Bricker had been teaching gym and leading Boy Scouts for thirty years. And some of those kids may have also been his campers at Teton Valley Ranch Camp. They called the 20-mile stretch of wealthy suburbs along the lake "the Suicide Belt." In 17 months, 28 kids had taken their own lives. I have also seen some other estimates which put the number of suicides during that period in the high thirties. At one point this year, a friend and I started making a list of suicides of boys we knew who went to Hubbard Woods or belonged to Boy Scout Troop 18. We stopped at ten. We also started another list of kids we knew whose lives went off the rails.
I have to stop this narrative for now, because writing this stuff makes me sad, depressed, and not a little angry.
NEXT: A Bill Bricker Backstory Part II: HERE -- Trying to get the story told and hitting a brick wall, again and again.
How did I get into this Bill Bricker firestorm? While my family has lived in Winnetka, IL. since 1954, Bill Bricker was never my gym teacher, because I never went to Hubbard Woods School. He was never my Boy Scout leader, because, like Little League, I was not eligible. And he was never my counselor at Camp Douglas Smith in Michigan or Teton Valley Ranch Camp in Wyoming.
So, he never took me into his office and lifted up my shirt on my birthday; he never sat me on his lap with his hand under my dress or inside my panties at recess; he never grabbed or rubbed me between the legs at the Halloween Haunted House; and I never had to share his sleeping bag with his genitals rubbing against my back. These are behaviors alleged by just some of the people who have come forward with their claims of abuse.
But I had relatives and friends who did attend Hubbard Woods School, several of whom said they avoided Bricker especially on their birthdays. I also had friends and relatives who were in Troop 18, one of whom was the first person who told me he had been molested.
And I have this blog. Thanks to a single news article about Bricker from 2005, which I re-posted on my blog in 2007, along with the passage of time, the Teton County [WY] Sheriff's office, and the rising courage of some brave people who are finally able to come forward, the North Shore's most notorious teacher, scout leader, and camp counselor has been arrested.
IN THE BEGINNING
Between fifteen and twenty years ago -- neither one of us can remember exactly -- a childhood friend reconnected with me. We had first met in the 1950's, when we were ten or eleven, riding the bus from summer swimming classes at New Trier High School in Winnetka, IL. My first impression of him has stayed with me all these years -- Holy Cow!! He's probably the cutest boy I've ever seen. My second impression? His dark eyes were beyond intense and piercing. They smoldered with anger. In fact, I can still see him staring right through me after a mutual friend introduced us.
Since we were the same age, I thought [I hoped] we would be in the same grade when school started, except he had been held back that year for some reason. We didn't meet again until high school. As luck would have it, one of my best friends became his high school girlfriend. So he and I became buddies.
After college we all went our separate ways. My girlfriend married someone else. He did the Haight-Ashbury thing in the Sixties, becoming a roadie for some heavy duty bands, then spending two years traveling throughout India. I started my career in advertising, did improv with Second City's first Monday Night cast, and modeled on the side [I was Miss Goosepimple of 1967 for Zonolite insulation].
Thirty years later, when we were in our fifties, he sent me a letter. Still living in California, he was now a divorced father with custody of some or all of his kids. Since they were older, it had been their choice to stay with their dad. Obviously he connected in a good way with his children. He seemed to enjoy single parenthood and he was looking forward to becoming a granddad.
Later that year, during a 'what's new with you?' phone call, he told me something that raised a red flag about his childhood. Owner of his own business, which had become a turnkey operation, he said he was donating his free time to a nonprofit that helped young, single mothers get back on their feet to find jobs. What did he do to help? He volunteered as a babysitter for their kids. On the face of it, that information seems fairly innocuous. But my sixth sense locked in.
It is arguably rare for a middle-aged man to volunteer as a babysitter. But rather than just assume he was a pedophile, I wondered whether his obvious care and concern for children might have something to do with being molested himself as a boy? I recalled his angry eyes when we were eleven and how he had been kept back a year in school.
With a Freudian psychoanalyst for a father, you learn to listen with a third ear. It's not just what people say; it's what you can hear between the words. Eventually this drill becomes automatic, almost second nature. The good news is you can become a more empathetic and understanding person. [I'm still working on that.] The bad news is that it tends to annoy the heck out of your family and friends. Since the unexamined life was never an option for me growing up, I am hardwired with endless curiosity to know what makes people tick. Over time my fallback analysis of people with significant psychological issues is that they have suffered the trauma of sexual abuse -- much to my children's annoyance. "Mom, not EVERYONE has been molested!" Sometimes, however, I really and truly wonder.
My friends will be shocked to learn that I waited a whole year to find out whether or not my childhood friend had been molested. Listening patiently really isn't one of my greatest strengths. Telling you things is more my style. But I didn't have to ask; he told me. We were discussing something about Bill Bricker [I don't remember the context] and he said, "He molested me." I was stunned. My first thought was, "For once you were right!" Apparently the years of rumors about the charismatic scout leader's alleged behavior might be true after all. Certainly for one boy. But that was just the first step in a journey that has taken the better part of twenty years.
Later that year [still 15-20 years ago if you're keeping track], I talked to someone else who had also been in Bricker's Troop 18. I mentioned to him that someone we knew told me he had been molested by Bricker. Before I could express my own shock at first hearing this news, he suddenly blurted out, "He molested me, too." Without getting into too much detail, his behavior had become quite toxic in his early teens, something his parents chalked up to teenaged rebellion. But happy kids don't act out. Troubled ones do. As an adult he had become an alcoholic. He now thinks people are trying to kill him with microwaves. And yes, he wears an aluminum hat on occasion. He called me a couple of years ago about getting his affairs in order, since he claimed his death was imminent. I asked how soon he was going to die. He said he would be dead in thirty days. Wow. The thirty days have long passed. Now, when he has called, I say things like, "Hey, aren't you supposed to be dead?" A reality check tends to be my fallback when talking to delusional people. His messed up existence is just one example of the aftermath that can occur from sexual abuse. Full disclosure -- he called me later to retract what he had said about being molested. I told him his life said otherwise.
Suddenly I was carrying an emotional weight that felt very heavy -- to this day. Within days or weeks of each other, two men I had known since childhood had told me that Bill Bricker molested them.
Did I know anyone else? And I remembered a third possible victim. My girlfriend, whose boyfriend had been the first to tell me about his abuse, had a younger brother who had also been in Bricker's Troop 18. He started hearing voices in high school and committed suicide when he was in college in the Sixties. Like most of the victims coming forward now, he never told anyone he had been molested before his suicide, so we will never know for sure. But killing himself to escape his ferocious inner turmoil, likely caused by an adult he trusted, is another reminder of the damage left in the wake of sexual abuse.
I remember calling his sister a few years ago to tell her I was fairly convinced that the pain and shame of molestation could explain why he took his life. She felt the same way I did.
There have been other suicides. In fact, in the early eighties, Time Magazine ran an article on September 1, 1980, about the suicide epidemic on the North Shore, where Bill Bricker had been teaching gym and leading Boy Scouts for thirty years. And some of those kids may have also been his campers at Teton Valley Ranch Camp. They called the 20-mile stretch of wealthy suburbs along the lake "the Suicide Belt." In 17 months, 28 kids had taken their own lives. I have also seen some other estimates which put the number of suicides during that period in the high thirties. At one point this year, a friend and I started making a list of suicides of boys we knew who went to Hubbard Woods or belonged to Boy Scout Troop 18. We stopped at ten. We also started another list of kids we knew whose lives went off the rails.
I have to stop this narrative for now, because writing this stuff makes me sad, depressed, and not a little angry.
NEXT: A Bill Bricker Backstory Part II: HERE -- Trying to get the story told and hitting a brick wall, again and again.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
What Did Bill Bricker Do To You? Please Tell Someone.
Shame and silence. For 50 years. Read today's story [5/13/14] about another trusted teacher who abused kids for decades before he was outed HERE.
Bill Bricker Update:
I.
There was a comment left just a few days ago on an earlier blog entry written about Bill Bricker. That comment was the first time that anyone has left his real name. It is reprinted below with just his initials. I hope this will encourage more people to come forward.
PK said...
III.
Boy Scouts who were victimized in Bill Bricker's Troop 18 in Winnetka or girls who attended Hubbard Woods Elementary School, where he was a teacher can contact Marc Pearlman in Chicago. His contact info is embedded in this paragraph sent to the blog from someone who decided to do something about what happened when he was a boy:
V. It isn't much, but here's a screenshot of some confirmation I got from the police:
Bill Bricker Update:
I.
There was a comment left just a few days ago on an earlier blog entry written about Bill Bricker. That comment was the first time that anyone has left his real name. It is reprinted below with just his initials. I hope this will encourage more people to come forward.
I attended Crow Island School. In 4th or 5th grade I became a member of Troop 18 led by Bill Bricker. I attended a weekend trip to the Amaquansippi Trail and during that weekend Bill Bricker sexually molested me. I left Troop 18 not long after that happened and never saw Bill again.
I have moved on in my life, married, had two children and now three grandchildren.
Bill Bricker should be prosecuted, no matter how old he is and no matter how prestigious his exterior reputation is. He was, and probably still is, a pedophile.
I have moved on in my life, married, had two children and now three grandchildren.
Bill Bricker should be prosecuted, no matter how old he is and no matter how prestigious his exterior reputation is. He was, and probably still is, a pedophile.
II.
There is an active case in Wyoming, with preparations underway to file criminal charges. This is a first. The more people who can corroborate the stories of abuse, the stronger the case will be. Bill Bricker worked summers at the Teton Valley Ranch Camp, where kids came from all over the country. Call Detective Dani Spence in Jackson, WY @307-733-4052, if you experienced or witnessed any crimes by Bricker. Or know anyone who went to camp at Teton Valley Ranch.
III.
Boy Scouts who were victimized in Bill Bricker's Troop 18 in Winnetka or girls who attended Hubbard Woods Elementary School, where he was a teacher can contact Marc Pearlman in Chicago. His contact info is embedded in this paragraph sent to the blog from someone who decided to do something about what happened when he was a boy:
I was sexually abused by Bill Bricker many decades ago. This has preyed on me for a long time and I have finally decided to do something about it. I would appreciate your contacting Chicago attorney Marc J. Pearlman of Kerns, Frost & Pearlman at his private direct line of 312-261-4554 or via email at mpearlman@kfplegal.com and sharing with him what you may know about Bill Bricker and his victims. After speaking with him, it might be helpful if you could let other victims know about this and suggest to them that they might want to contact him. Their identities would be known only to him. If you know of circumstances, dates, or places of instances, it will be helpful. This is the website of the law firm: http://www.kfplegal.com/ Thank you very much.
IV. For boys and girls in Wyoming and Illinois, you can also contact Jason Sipe, litigation assistant at 503-274-1176. He does client intake for a law firm in Portland, OR that specializes in the litigation of civil sex abuse cases -- quite successfully against the BSA and the Catholic Church, in particular. He can be reached at O'Donnell Clark & Crew LLP • 1650 NW Naito Parkway • Suite 302 • Portland, OR 97209-2534.
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