CAMARO6 - View Single Post

Ivas · 12-15-2011, 07:43 PM

This moment was more than embarrassing; it frightened me and made me wish I had never seen it. This happened in 1962, I was then seven years old.

In Berkeley, the YMCA had a large indoor heated pool. Often, due to the generally cool weather of the North Bay area, it was the only place a kid could swim. I loved swimming.
This day, for some forgotten reason, I was the very last kid outa' the pool and inta' the locker room. Being alone was okay, it was when I could hear some plaintive cries comin' from the shower room that I became apprehensive.

I was still in my swimming trunks; I looked around the corner into the shower room, and there was a boy about my age being sodomized by a grown man. Holy shit, I was scared, I got dressed right over my wet trunks and headed out and upstairs through the buzz-lock doors, waiting the two seconds until the door was allowed to unlatch seemed like forever. I could hardly breathe.

I told my mother, who was the first adult I saw coming out the front door. She said I must have imagined it, and that I oughta' forget the whole thing. She told me never to mention it again. I could tell that she knew that I was being truthful. That's what embarrassed me; my mother was a coward, and I saw it plain as day.

12-15-2011, 07:43 PM	#24
Ivas el Ruco Drives: 2010 Camaro SS (now runnin' TENS ) Join Date: Nov 2009 Location: Fontana, CA Posts: 7,388	Horrible shower room event. This moment was more than embarrassing; it frightened me and made me wish I had never seen it. This happened in 1962, I was then seven years old. In Berkeley, the YMCA had a large indoor heated pool. Often, due to the generally cool weather of the North Bay area, it was the only place a kid could swim. I loved swimming. This day, for some forgotten reason, I was the very last kid outa' the pool and inta' the locker room. Being alone was okay, it was when I could hear some plaintive cries comin' from the shower room that I became apprehensive. I was still in my swimming trunks; I looked around the corner into the shower room, and there was a boy about my age being sodomized by a grown man. Holy shit, I was scared, I got dressed right over my wet trunks and headed out and upstairs through the buzz-lock doors, waiting the two seconds until the door was allowed to unlatch seemed like forever. I could hardly breathe. I told my mother, who was the first adult I saw coming out the front door. She said I must have imagined it, and that I oughta' forget the whole thing. She told me never to mention it again. I could tell that she knew that I was being truthful. That's what embarrassed me; my mother was a coward, and I saw it plain as day.