Silent No More: Victim 1's Fight for Justice Against Jerry Sandusky

195 Pages·2012·1.22 MB·English

by  Aaron Fisher

Copyright © 2012 by Aaron Fisher, Michael Gillum, and Dawn Daniels
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a
division of Random House, Inc., New York.
B and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
ALLANTINE
All photos courtesy of Dawn Daniels
eISBN: 978-0-345-54417-9
www.ballantinebooks.com
v3.1
To those who serve and protect.
And to children everywhere
who have suffered and overcome—
and those who are still determined to heal.
The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who
look on and do nothing.
—A E
LBERT INSTEIN
Contents

Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Introduction • Conviction • Aaron
Part I The Crime
1 What I Wish I’d Known Then • Dawn
2 Meeting the Monster • Aaron
3 Killers of the Soul • Mike
4 The Taking of Innocence • Aaron
5 It Doesn’t Matter Who He Is • Dawn
6 Crying for Help • Aaron
7 Too Little, Too Late • Dawn
8 No One Believes Me • Aaron
9 How Do You Mend a Broken Boy? • Mike
10 Trying to Trust • Aaron
11 The Writing on the Wall • Mike
Part II Building the Case
12 Chains of Command • Mike
13 All the State’s Men and Women • Mike
14 Defense Tactics • Mike
15 Nightmares • Aaron
16 Everything Changes • Mike and Aaron
17 The First Grand Jury • Aaron and Mike
18 Wiretap • Mike
19 Conspiracy Theories • Mike
20 Conversion Syndrome • Mike
21 Hitting a Tree • Aaron and Dawn
22 The Boy in the Shower • Mike
23 Round Three • Mike and Aaron
24 Going the Distance • Mike
25 The Arrest • Aaron, Dawn, and Mike
26 The Walls Come Down • Mike and Aaron
27 Enter Joe McGettigan • Mike
Part III Justice
28 Getting Ready to Go • Aaron and Mike
29 Testimony • Aaron, Dawn, and Mike
30 The Verdict • Mike
Epilogue • Mike and Aaron
Afterword • Mike
Acknowledgments
About the Authors
Introduction
Conviction
Aaron
T others that I’ve been trying to push away for
HERE ARE SOME DAYS AND NIGHTS THAT STICK IN MY HEAD AND
about six years now. One that sticks is Friday, June 22, 2012. The Jerry
Sandusky trial had ended just the day before. Even though I should have been
feeling a sense of relief that it was over, I knew the jury was still out. I also knew
I’d been lied to and disappointed so many times before that I couldn’t believe
anything good would come of anything ever again.
Part of me thought that I should have stayed home that night with my mom
and waited for the news, but I had just started my first real job, as a security
guard. The company had me working the graveyard shift that night, which is
what you do when you first start out. No one knew who I was. Well, let me put it
this way—they knew my name but they didn’t know my story. I couldn’t give
them the real excuse that I was waiting for a verdict to come in and that’s why I
couldn’t show that night. I had a responsibility to the company. I also had to get
out of the house because I couldn’t take the waiting.
Around ten o’clock, I headed off to work. Before I got in my car, I checked
the backseat and the trunk the way I always do. Since all this started I always
make sure that no one and nothing is in the car that shouldn’t be there. I have
this heightened sense of alertness.
Like I said, part of me wanted to wait with my mom but I figured that juries
don’t come back that late at night anyway. I pictured those jurors sitting in a
room, trying to decide and then saying they might as well just go back to their
hotel because they weren’t sure whether to vote guilty or not guilty. Besides, the
trial had ended just the day before.
I thought about my mom sitting by the phone and glued to the TV; I knew that
my psychologist, Mike Gillum, was at home and probably doing the same. It was
better to just be on the open road that night. When I got to the job site, I knew,
I’d be by myself, pretty much out in the middle of nowhere, which was a good
place for me to feel safe. I also liked that people relied on me for protection. I
made sure there was no one trespassing and no breakins and no fire hazards. I
liked knowing that I was the one who could check the area with my flashlight
and check the locks on the gate and make sure that everything was the way it
should be so that everyone was safe.
Being alone and awake through the night was a familiar thing. For the last six
years, and for sure the last three, all I did was think, and thinking kept me up all
night long. Working the graveyard shift was perfect since being awake came
easy for me. When I was awake, I couldn’t have nightmares.
I was cruising along the highway when my cellphone rang. It was Mom. I
figured she was just checking up on me but when I heard her voice I knew
something was up. At first I got real scared because she was crying. I was afraid
to hear what she had to say. Then she said that Jerry was convicted. The jury had
found Jerry Sandusky guilty on forty-five counts of sexual abuse.
I didn’t pump my fist in the air or let out a cheer. Instead, I pulled my car onto
the shoulder of the highway. I couldn’t see the road in front of me anymore
through the tears. I just put my head down on the steering wheel and cried.
Happy tears, but I was crying.
Nine of Sandusky’s victims testified at the trial. No one had a name—just a
number. My name is Aaron. I am the boy they used to call Victim 1.