Status and Statutory Rape

Status and Statutory rape

When I was 14 ½ years old I had a boyfriend who was 18 and liked to be outrageous and break rules. Like any teenager, he liked to take risks.   He was also very smart, not necessarily in class, but on the football field.

Boyfriend’s name sounded like Eddie Haskell (remember Leave it to Beaver?) and he acted very much like him around my parents.  Two-faced that way.

One day when my mom was out of town, and knowing that my Dad was more lenient, he offered to take me to Madison County, an hour away, to visit my aunties, whom I loved very much. My dad consented.

That Friday night Eddie picked me up and we started driving down the road, and I had to ask, hey, where are we going?   I can’t remember now what he said, but I did go along with it, I liked him, and so did all my girlfriends who usually went along with us when we got together. I also liked risk and danger to a certain extent and also was not real smart.

He took me across the Virginia State Line and checked us into a hotel.   Got a once-over look from the mom-and-pop owner who checked us in. We were on the second floor, out of earshot, probably, from other guests.   Eddie proceeded to insinuate himself into myself and try to capture my virginity, like a Score on the goalpost.   I fought him off all night and he never got below the belt with or without a fight. Neither of us had any sleep. I guess he thought he could wear me down.

Around dawn, he gave me this whole old-movie, classic rap about oh, I was such a True Person, and honest and virtuous, well, he thought he should marry me and then begged me to marry him.

I am sure I had some mixed emotions about that, but from my mom having had 10 children and me being raised Catholic, some kind of morality/virtue was pretty foundational to me.   At any rate, it was pretty amusing and thank goodness for habitual patterns, having said “NO” all night long, that didn’t work, either.  And I was returned to my home unscathed and intact except for my hairbrush.

Julia Gibbs

PS   When I tell this story, people want to know what happened to him.    My brother, who moved to Coconut Grove with him both on their motorcycles to live there, years later told me that somebody shot him. Outrageousness turned Obnoxious.

Eddie had told me quite honestly at one point that he “was only dating me because I lived in that house on the hill.”

PPS All of a sudden, I am reminded of a friend who was gang-banged by a group of CU football players. They had bad grades, but at that time professors were notoriously letting that slide.  They were under the pressure of the Administration because of funding by the Foundation consisting of big donor alumni and their particular brand of Sports enthusiasm.  (This is not to cast shade on all sports enthusiasts.)


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