Interview with Jeremy Todd
Little Boy Broken
Jeremy Todd
Modern History Press (2008)
ISBN 9781932690712
Reviewed by Richard Blake for Reader Views (9/08)
Today, Tyler R. Tichelaar of Reader Views is pleased to interview Jeremy Todd, who is here to talk about his new book, “Little Boy Broken.”
Jeremy Todd was physically, mentally, sexually and emotionally abused from the age of six. The rest of his nearly unbelievable and dramatic story is told in his autobiographical book, “Little Boy Broken.” He will share some of that story with us today.
Tyler: Welcome, Jeremy. I am very happy to have you here today. To begin, will you tell us about the abuse that I mentioned above? Who abused you and how did the abuse begin?
Jeremy: The emotional, mental and physical abuse went on as long as I can remember. I was always told that I was “no good,” “a goddamn mistake,” and “a waste of human flesh.” My dad did not see any value or worth in me so he treated me like I was less than human. He had no compassion, no mercy and no love. I adjusted my thinking to adapt to my environment—meaning I did not try to seek out the love that was not there and never existed! I simply accepted at an early age that we would never have a normal father/son relationship and by the age of six, I learned to be self-reliant. There was something in me—a brave spunk that only little boys know—that would not allow me to accept his abuse but the more I resisted, the worse I was treated. My dad’s intention was to break me and turn me into his mindless, soulless whipping boy and zombie-like slave.
Tyler: Besides the physical abuse from your father, I understand he put you in situations where you could be abused by other adults?
Jeremy: At the age of six my father first sold me—rented me out, you could say—to a married couple who lived a few houses away. My dad always blamed his children for his financial failures. He had no education or work experience or any marketable skill so he found a job suitable to his qualifications—he became a gravedigger. Still, he insisted on keeping up with the Jones. He wanted what most people worked hard to get which included buying a house he could not afford in an upper-class neighborhood. He told me many times to get a job to bail him out and he meant it. So when I was six, he decided that I was good for something: sex. So that night he dropped me off at the neighbor’s house and ordered me to do whatever they say, no matter what. I thought I was there to help out around their house by cleaning and making some money for my father. But that night, while I slept in their son’s bed, bright flashes of light woke me. I thought it was lightning but I opened my eyes to find it was the man taking pictures of me. When I tried to get out of bed, I found I was firmly tied to it. My hands and feet were tethered to the four-post bed frame and I was unable to move or scream—they had gagged me as well. The woman pulled down my underwear and had both oral and vaginal sex with me while he simultaneously took pictures and masturbated. I thought I was going to be crushed to death when she sat on my stomach. Words can hardly describe my terror. When they were finished, my innocence and childhood were defiled and lost forever. In the morning they handed me an envelope filled with cash and pictures and gave me strict orders to give it to no one except my father. When I did, he said, “I am proud of you.”
Tyler: How did that make you feel, Jeremy, to be told your father was proud of you over something so twisted? Did you ever want to please your father or make him proud of you?
Jeremy: I was six at the time and starving for affection so my emotions were stirred when he said he was proud of me. I would have done almost anything to melt his heart of ice—almost. Having my dad say he was proud of me was much better than being yelled at or beaten. Children want to please their parents—they want to be accepted by their parents. Being sold and raped put me in a state of shock, a fog that did not lift until I saw Dr. Donaldson twenty years later. The majority of my childhood was repressed as I grew up and when I was an adult, I could only recall maybe a handful of actual events after living half a lifetime. Being abused was not a fantasy it was a harsh reality and anytime I caught a break I felt temporary relief. Now looking back on it as an adult living in a safe and secure environment, I can say without hesitation, that my father never loved, respected or valued me. I was a commodity as much as the television set was.
Tyler: Jeremy, where was your mother during this time?
Jeremy: My mother was in the same boat that her children were in, except unlike me, she folded whereas I resisted. She became that mindless, emotionless slave. It was very rare for her to intervene on behalf of her children when the beatings started. It was far less common that she made mention of this brutal behavior. She was a mindless drone. She had but two purposes in life. The first was to service my father sexually and bear children. The second was to make him look good in the community. His wife’s job was to spoon-feed us stories or phrases that we were forced to rehearse over and over and repeat in public. I remember this one, “Your dad is the best dad ever!” Not only did I have to say it, but I had to mean it also and until I got it just right, I was not allowed out—and out was what I wanted. She reinforced the hogwash by constantly reminding us of how much we were loved. It should be noted that love to me was not the same as the traditional references of love. In my home, a slap across the face meant, “I love you.” If I were hit in the head five times, my mother would remind me that it once was ten times, so the five less slaps measured the amount I was loved. At other times, she said I should feel honored because he was teaching me how to be a man; she reminded me that most fathers would not care at all. She believed (or convinced herself) that she had the perfect husband who was the perfect father.
Tyler: Jeremy, would you give us an example of how you resisted your father and what the results were?
Jeremy: When he sold me to his friends to rape me, I was as mad as hell and I became rebellious. No matter what he said, I did the opposite. If he said to turn right, I’d turn left. If he told me to sit, I would stand. It did not matter how simple the request was—until he beat me into submission. I couldn’t even guess at how often I was physically abused. The first time was scary, the second time was humiliating and the third time no longer affected me. So the battle of wills ensued; the more he hit me, the more obstinate I became. He always raised the stakes, trying to make me crumble. His beatings progressed into acts of torture and I was denied food and water. I was a prisoner of war in the house where I should have felt safe but I would rather die than ever admit defeat and I became a strong-willed individual.
Tyler: Did you have siblings who were also abused?
Jeremy: I struggled with this issue when I wrote my book. All of my siblings are still alive. Most are married, some several times over. I don’t mind telling my story, but I’d rather not speak for my brothers and sisters. It should be obvious that my father’s rage and tyranny affected everyone, but as for the sexual abuse, out of respect for their privacy, I will not speak about them. I will say this much though, my siblings did not grow up the way I did. They fell for my mother’s brainwashing—hook, line and sinker. Yet, from the little they know about me, they are convinced that I am mad but I don’t blame them. In fact, I am a little jealous. I know my life would have been a lot easier if I would have given in—which isn’t to say I could live with myself but it would have been easier.
Tyler: I understand the book tells your story leading up to your father’s final and greatest crime against you when you were twelve—will you tell us what his intentions were at that point and what fueled his anger?
Jeremy: My father sold me three times. I already talked about the first time. The second time was when I was eight years old; he sold me to a divorced woman who forced me to bathe with her. She got me drunk for the first time but after a few shots, I passed out. When I regained consciousness, my father was upstairs and I was in the basement, naked and attached to the wall with snow chains. I was then raped for the second time but this time was worse. I felt so bad and ashamed afterwards. My dad used the money to buy a new living room set. The last time he sold me was when I was twelve. My father drove me to a house near where he worked. When we walked in the door, my heart stopped because there were six men waiting for me. He presented me to the older man, who looked me over and said, “Sold.” A teenage girl appeared and took me upstairs; her job was to break me. I resisted and ran down the stairs and out the backdoor into a fully fenced backyard. I was trapped and a struggle to escape ensued, resulting in her death. The men devised a plan to bury the body in the graveyard where my father worked. When it was my turn to be silenced, my father prevented them from killing me because he had no way to explain a missing child that was in his care. They relented when my father promised that he would murder me in the bathtub and make it look like an accidental drowning as soon as we got home and once we were back at home, he immediately set the scene to fulfill his promise. It took him several tries before I lost the fight and my lungs filled with water but just before the moment of death, my mother came in the front door frantically calling for my father because one of my brothers had broken his leg and needed to be taken to the hospital. He stripped me naked and took the muddy and bloodstained soggy clothing from me, then told me he would be back to finish the job. As I reflect about my past, I have come to the conclusion that God was looking after me.
Tyler: How do you feel about your father today? Can you, at all, understand what led him to such extreme behavior against his own child?
Jeremy: I don’t hate him if that is what you mean. I use to, but I discovered through therapy that hate is a powerful emotion that requires a great deal of energy to maintain. Hate is like the air inside of a balloon. It keeps on growing and the more it grows the deeper and harder the breath has to become until it finally pops. I know hate, I know it well—but unlike my father, I also know love. Not his twisted version of love, but true honest love. It took me a long time to find it. Basically, I stumbled upon it by knowing that I never wanted to be like dear old dad, and I wanted to feel opposite of the way I did feel. People often asked me whether my father was mentally ill? Not to my knowledge. He was sane and well grounded. Nor was he delusional. His acts of violence were cold and calculated. He was a very angry man; he was shallow and I believe he liked the way he mistreated those he could. My dad did claim that his father was also a child abuser and an alcoholic and he later confessed that he too was abused as a child—so if what he said was true , he knew right from wrong and he knew the pain he was causing as I knew better than to beat or sexually abuse my son. I think the truth is that he simply enjoyed it and put himself first and above all others. We have no relationship today and I have no desire to start one either. He is probably in his seventies now. My mom insists that he is a changed man now but experience teaches that change can only occur when a person is willing to acknowledge their faults. The last I heard, he was still blameless.
Tyler: Jeremy, while it’s true your father knew right from wrong, isn’t it also true that many abused children do end up being abusive themselves? While you don’t hate him, do you feel any sympathy or compassion for your father, or does he not deserve any?
Jeremy: Yes, my father knew right from wrong. I don’t hate him now at the age of forty-seven but I did as a child. Getting past the hate was something I had to work on in therapy but I did it for me, not for him. Simply put, keeping the hatred meant that I was still fighting the fight with no one in the room. I was getting all worked up and my dad was sunning himself in Florida. So I learned to let it go and I am a much happier and freer person now. I found my peace. I don’t feel sympathy for him, that word implies remorse—but he is not sorry. Maybe if he truly regretted all he did to hurt me, and he tried to explain why, I might consider sympathy—but because he isn’t sorry in the least, I don’t. It is true that many abused children turn around and abuse others—but most do not. My understanding of the pain it causes is too deep ever to wish or inflict on my worst enemy, let alone my own child or someone I loved. I fought him but I never became him, thank God.
Tyler: You mentioned your mother above—am I correct that you still have a relationship with her? Do you blame her for letting the abuse happen?
Jeremy: I do not have a relationship with my mother. I tried but it always ends as a dismal failure so I have not spoken to her in twenty years. The problem is that every time we establish a communication, she always brings up my childhood and she tries to convince me that it was not as bad as I was making it out to be. She believes what she wants to and dismisses the rest as being made up. I am not willing to pretend that the whole thing didn’t happen to feed her delusion. As I said earlier she was basically in the same boat when it came to being abused. The only difference between my mom and me is that I accept and admit that it happened.
Tyler: Did you tell anyone about the abuse you were experiencing as a child, and why or why not?
Jeremy: I would tell anyone who was willing to listen. In fact it got so bad at one point just after the second rape that I went to gathering places like stores, churches and football games, complaining that I had a terrible life and asking total strangers to adopt me. I begged them to just take me home now. I was kind of like a lost puppy, but there were no takers. I probably would have left for a short while but then would have ended up back at home because I felt a duty or obligation to protect my younger sisters. I once told a priest during confession but he was uncaring and unsympathetic. I told a school counselor I was forced to see because my grades had plummeted from As to Fs in a matter of weeks. I had to undergo psychological testing to determine what the problem was but in the end, the therapist simply told my parents that I disclosed several complaints of child abuse and decided I was making mountains out of molehills and the bruises were nothing to be alarmed about. My mom and dad freaked out and I knew I was in for a major beating when I got home. Yes, I told anyone who was willing to listen—and some who weren’t willing.
Tyler: What made you decide finally not only to tell your story but to make it very public by writing “Little Boy Broken”?
Jeremy: I heard of another young boy named Shawn H. who had been kidnapped and kept as a sex slave for over five years. I was motivated by his strength of survival. Although I am more than twice his age, I admired his courage. He put his feet on the floor every morning when there was no reason to believe that this day would be different from any other. He is a strong-willed individual. In fact, I dedicated a chapter in my book to him titled, “Shawn H. Portrait of a Hero,” because he was the motivating factor that set everything into motion for me.
Tyler: What reaction have you received from those who know you about your decision to make your story public?
Jeremy: My therapist, Dr. Sam Donaldson was thrilled that I finally decided to put pen to paper. He is very supportive and we have kept in touch over the years. However, the majority of people who know me had no idea about what had happened to me because I never told them but when I finally began to open up and start talking, most were shocked. Almost everyone said they were sorry to hear that. The first time I heard it, I didn’t know how to react. I was confused—why are they sorry, it’s not like they were involved. I really didn’t get it. Then after the fifth or sixth time I heard it, it occurred to me; what else could they say? So now my response is, “No need to be sorry, that ship sailed a long time ago, but thanks for caring about me.”
Tyler: Jeremy, I understand you are writing another book—is it a sequel? Will you tell us briefly about it?
Jeremy: A sequel? No. “Little Boy Broken” took me about nine months to write and it was difficult because it forced me to recall emotions and feelings that I’d rather forget but for the most part, I am over it. Before I wrote the first word, I decided to be honest and upfront and not leave anything out because I wanted the reader to know the truth—child abuse is not a fairy tale. Also, I wanted to make the point perfectly clear that therapy is a must, which is one reason why I shared my therapy sessions. It is tough, but not fatal. The second book is called, ‘Peek-A-Boo, I See You’ and it reveals what I’ve learned about how to spot child abusers, something I’ve learned first-hand and I share what I’ve learned because we need all the tools we can get to protect our children from these insidious people.
Tyler: Jeremy, would you tell us a little bit about what your life is like now—have you had stable relationships, how do you make a living etcetera?
Jeremy: I have an adopted son I met when he was eleven – he is now twenty-five. We have a great relationship. He came from a broken and abusive home himself and there were trying times but I never hit, violated or humiliated him in any way. In fact, I was a career foster parent for the state of Missouri for four years. I specialized in teenaged bi-polar boys and housed up to six at one time. There was never anger or violence in my house. I figured that we all had enough of that already. I do not date that much anymore. I never married and probably never will. But for the most part, I am happy just to have a ho-hum life. I’m on disability now, partly due to the P.T.S.D. (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) resulting from my childhood, plus I have a few debilitating physical problems.
Tyler: What would you say is the most important thing you have learned through your experience and what kind of message do you hope readers get after reading “Little Boy Broken”?
Jeremy: The most important thing I learned is that tomorrow will come and it brings a brand new day full of hope, love and peace. I don’t mean to belittle anyone’s abuse-issues, but I believe, if I can live though it, anyone can—all you have to do is hang on for one more day. That is why Shawn H’s story moved me; it is the epitome of my life story. I want everyone to believe that there is hope and sometime that is all you need. So if you are in an abusive situation get out. If you have been abused go to therapy and do all you can to find peace.
Tyler: Thank you for joining me today Jeremy, and for sharing your amazing story with us. Before we go, will you tell us about your website and what additional information may be found there about “Little Boy Broken”?
Jeremy: My website is designed for men and boys. People will find a resource center for online help or learn more about abused people. I have also included a library with books dealing with the subject of male abuse primarily but also with all forms of child abuse. I have the latest links and the resources are vast. I hope you visit. This website is also the main source of information about “Little Boy Broken” which can be purchased online through Amazon, Barnes and Noble or directly from my publisher—links are found on the website which is www.littleboybroken.net. Thank you Tyler—for listening.
Tyler: Thank you, Jeremy, for the interview and sharing your story. I hope your story inspires other people to help stop child abuse from happening.
