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Date Rape Myth

October 28, 2009

Date Rape drugs do have a peculiar mythology.

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One comment

  1. The summer of 2008 was to be fun and exhilarating, or so I thought. Having lived on military installations most of my life and waiting to join the military, a tradition I had been proud of. I was 21, had lived abroad in Europe and the Orient, and in 2008 my parents were assigned to Lackland AFB, TX, and would soon retire to Tennessee. I was looking forward to joining the United States Air Force (USAF) and living my own experiences and living abroad again. I had already taken several college courses from the University of Maryland in USAFE and would exit basic military training and tech school with an extra stripe which would mean extra pay! My plan was to enter as an enlisted airman and take as many college courses during the ranks of E-3 through E-5 because the tuition incentive was incredible. I thought perhaps I’d even apply for a commission should I finish my undergraduate degree. If not, I’d certainly advance my career and education just as my parents had in the USAF.

    Having lived in Germany, I did appreciate foreign beer and went out with my girlfriends one night along the river walk. The river walk in San Antonio at night reminded me of Europe. We ate well and sat outside one of the restaurants and laughed and waved to passengers on the gondolas. We were offered drinks by a group of retired USAF men with Harley Davidson and military insignia. Later, I remember my girlfriends leaving in their vehicle, yet I did not remember leaving in my Dad’s old Jeep.

    What I do remember is terrible and horrifying.

    I remember waking up the next day in fuzzy light in a room I did not recognize. At first I thought it had been a hotel and that perhaps one of my girlfriends had rented a room for us along the river walk. My head was pounding, my fingers in front of my face were fuzzy, and I heard water like a waterfall. My lower back hurt and my privates felt sore.

    I heard a voice asking if I’d like some coffee? I sat up and was voiceless. I had no idea where I was or who this man in a bathrobe was. The room became a little clearer and the man left the room saying that I could use the bathroom if I felt like it and he’d make some breakfast.

    I could not find my purse, thus could not make a phone call. At that time I did not see a phone in the room and never knew if a phone (landline) was there or not. I did not want to stay in that bed and realized I was naked. I got up and walked to the bathroom, feeling my way and balancing myself on the door handle, wall, countertop, and sink faucet. I splashed water on my face and stood there with both hands on the countertop to ‘clear’ my thoughts. The room was still humid from the man’s shower and I could smell his scented soap and threw up in the toilet. The wrenching of my stomach was disgusting and horrible and I cannot think of the moment again without feeling nauseated.

    Yet, that wrenching also seemed to bring a few of the past nights experiences horribly forward, too. I remember that man with tattoos the length of both arms, bad breath, gray hair, glasses, hairy chest, and mustache on top of me. He also had a small mark or mole on his penis. Oh God I wanted to scream! I had to stay calm and find a way out. I wanted his filth off me. I grabbed the towel and took a shower making sure not to use his scented soap, instead using the shampoo to wash my hair and bathe my body. I dried off, left the bathroom, went into the bedroom and the room was clearer. I found my clothes and tried not to throw up again. I walked out of the room with my shoes in hand and smelled my way to the kitchen.

    I remember walking by a room that may have been an office with military memorabilia. I looked in and the name on one of the wall plaques was “Chief Master Sergeant Paul A. Harvey”. I was just so – I don’t know, I can’t describe how I felt. I just froze and don’t remember leaving that room.

    The man was watching a large flat screen television in an open great room near the kitchen. I saw a phone (landline) in the kitchen and my purse, too. I walked (or floated or somehow moved) towards my purse and smiled at the man. The man asked if I wanted a ride back to my hotel. I later thought that he must have thought I was from out of town. He asked if I’d like breakfast and I declined. I kept smiling and he led me to the garage. It was a large garage, with room for at least 3 vehicles. I saw a darkly painted Harley Davidson motorcycle, Harley Davidson truck, and a green lawn mower with yellow lettering. He opened the passenger side of the Ford Harley Davidson truck and he then entered through the driver’s side and I remember day light coming from behind as the garage door opened, even though the windows of the Ford Harley Davidson truck were tinted.

    My God it was all such a daze back to the river walk. He kept talking about himself on the 30 or so minute drive back to San Antonio. I did not know I was so far away. He talked about the military and security police, and his son who lives in the Dakotas. He had military stickers on the windshield. He wore kaki shorts and a short sleeve tan colored Harley Davidson t-shirt and I could see the tattoos and asked that he please turn up the air conditioning. I need cold air to prevent me from vomiting. I also noticed tattoos on his calves.

    He let me out near the mall and although I don’t remember my feet moving, I walked to my Jeep. I felt like I was on a conveyor belt. My Jeep was like my savior, something familiar, untainted, and I cried for at least half an hour before starting the engine.

    I drove home and took another shower. My parents thought I had stayed at a friend’s home; after all I was 21 and about to enter the USAF. I took another shower have never slept restfully since. I did not report to the police, I was embarrassed and afraid what my family would think of me. I did not join the military. I did move to Tennessee and live with family while attending college.

    I am disgusted that this happened. I was and still am disgusted at myself for letting this happen. I firmly believe that I was given a date-rape drug.

    Through my own recognizance, I discovered and am informed and believe that the man who did this horrible assault upon my body and soul is Paul A. Harvey, 468 Rose Blossom Loop, La Vernia, TX 78121, has been married and divorced three (3) times. He is currently 49 years of age. He is older than my father. I was 21 when the above incident occurred, the assailant was 48 years of age.

    He gave me VD and I was too embarrassed to enter the military with such a disease. I don’t drink anymore or allow myself to have any such opportunity to be exposed to such a horrible encounter. I do attend group counseling, yet my family does not know about the counseling. I hope that this horrible experience will help me find a path in my life upon firmer ground.

    Please don’t allow this to happen to another woman.



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