Candy, Little Girl?

By Sarah

I was working on the outline of a novel the other day involving a neurotic mother who worries about her children's every move. (Sound familiar?) But something was missing. WHY was this woman so neurotic? What had happened to her in her past that caused her to instantly leap to the conclusion that her children had been kidnapped/molested/murdered?

I had only to look at my own childhood to find the answer, a "Highway Safety Foundation" film shown to us in second grade at the Spring Garden Elementary School. It was called The Child Molester and, to be honest, since seeing it I have never been the same.

And lately I've been wondering if it possibly saved my life.

I didn't remember the title until I did some digging while working on this proposal, though the movie itself is so vivid in my memory that I can recall in crystal clear detail the faces of the two girls who foolishly accepted candy from the strange man who first appears as a shadow over their chalk-drawn hopscotch. From there, it's all downhill. They get into his car, a 1950s Cadillac with huge fenders, and off they go in shoddy Technicolor to their doom.

The Child Molester spares no detail in hammering home its lesson. With its backdrop of idealized post-war suburban white picket fences and happy drugstore soda counters, this crappy public safety film could be another Twilight Zone episode were it not for the authentic crime scene footage of the murder scene at the end. Yes, you read that right.

Turns out, The Child Molester was based on an actual abduction and murder of two girls, ages seven and nine, in Mansfield, Ohio, and the so-called Highway Safety Foundation felt it was necessary to show us their actual bodies, bloodied and naked aside from their pleated plaid skirts, in horrific grainy footage.

This is what they showed us in second grade as a cautionary tale about the dangers of strangers with candy. And to think my mother wouldn't even let me watch Love, American Style.

Funny. I don't remember the crime scene footage. What I remember was the final shot of a "red" sneaker floating down the creek to the tune of "Let's Go Fly a Kite," a song I have always despised. To make matters worse, I grew up with a creek in my backyard along with a woods eerily similar to the one where the girls were taken and where they tried to escape. (With the murderer yelling, "Come back or I'll kill you now," illogically enough.) A little too close for comfort, you might say.

I didn't sleep for weeks it seemed. I refused to walk home from the bus, insisting my mother pick me up. My "problem" became a big deal even though my mother, furious, had called the school board and thrown a fit over the movie. My previously normal and safe life was now fraught with lurking predators behind every bush and tree, peeking in my bedroom window and waiting at every bus stop.

Finally, I recovered enough to deliver Girl Scout cookies on a rainy February Sunday afternoon. I was at the end of Langhorne Avenue, about a half mile from my house, when a car pulled up slowly. The man didn't get out. Instead, he pushed open the passenger door and asked if I wanted a ride. I blanched.

"No, thanks," I said as cheerily as possible. (This was how the "good" blond girl had answered the bad man when he asked if she'd like to come into his car for more candy. She survived.)

The door closed and the car proceeded. Then stopped. Then reversed. 

He was after me.

I dropped my cookies. (Not many. I was a lousy salesgirl.) And I fled to the Herricks house. They were a kindly retired couple who were always home. When they answered their door, I burst in.

The car sped off immediately.

My mother, frustrated, came to pick me up, but I think her tune changed when she heard the story. 

That was over thirty years ago. When I posted the film on Facebook, a couple of classmates from Spring Garden emailed to tell me they, too, had been traumatized by the film and had passed on their neuroses to their own children. Online, similar stories. Anyone who saw this film in the 1960s or 70s never forgets it, though, like me, they can't recall the crime scene footage. What they do remember, however, is the shoe which, turns out, wasn't red; it was bloody.

Think you can handle it? Here's the movie in its entirety. 

And here's my question: is this over the top? Or is this movie what we need to protect our kids? I'll let you talk amongst yourselves.

Sarah 

 

Comments

[Josh]

Well, considering that most molestation comes from people the victim already knows, this seems to be missing the point, as well as being unnecessarily traumatizing.

OTOH, it may not be a bad idea to teach children not to get into cars with strangers. If it hadn't been for that movie, you probably would have done that. Not.

[Reine]

Um. No. There are better ways. One might call such a film abusive, despite its good intentions.

[Kathy Sweeney]

Can't watch it, and I won't even try. Maybe this works for some people - although, as Josh points out, if they really want to warn kids, they need to do a film featuring Coach Buddy or Uncle Pal.

I can't even read the KidJep books. My brain just shuts down. Given my experience this makes sense, except I have been like this my entire life. A counselor once told me it has something to do with hyper-empathy and an inability to separate fiction from reality. You can call it whatever you want. I'm still not watching.

In fact, I am going to watch some nice music videos now to erase the image of that shoe. I think some goofball Brad Paisley ones will fit the bill.

[William]

Okay, I'm not going into specifics, so you're going to have to trust me on some of this.

This is one of those well-intentioned efforts that backfired, and in my professional opinion, one of the most harmful things ever done: "Mr. Stranger Danger". Do stranger abductions happen? Sure. Not as frequently as the media would have us believe, but yes, it does happen. But, you know what? Somewhere in the world today, someone's going to be struck by lightning.

Do I believe in Monsters? Yes, I do. But I've never seen an actual case of "Stranger Danger" in the past eleven years. Without exception, the Monster has been within what's called The Circle of Trust. Without exception. Conversely, I've interviewed individuals who attempted to be "The Boogeyman", but frankly, the children were too wise to do as asked and knew enough to run like hell.

When I was a kid (Christ, I'm starting to despise that phrase), there was a program called "Block Home". Families volunteered, submitted to thorough background checks, and a bright screaming hot orange sign was in the front window of the home that read BLOCK HOME. Usually a mom was the one home, rarely a dad, sometimes a retired couple, but the deal was someone was always home during the day. If there was ever any kind of trouble, you could head that way and know you'd be safe. (I'd like to see that sort of thing come back, but with all the loopholes and liabilities and outright fuckups possible, I understand why it hasn't.)

Teaching a child Right and Wrong is what counts. Teaching them to use their heads, exercise caution, sure. Emphasizing to never EVER get into a strange car, absolutely.

Teaching a lesson by scaring the shit of a child with it? No. Wrong. So far wrong there are no words for it....

[Ramona]

I am of two minds. I'll agree with the ham-fisted good intentions. I was a little impressed that it took care to separate warnings about pedophilia from sex education. But I agree with William that it's not the bogeyman kids need to worry about.

Case in point: Dr. Earl Bradley, a Delaware pediatrician who molested, raped, abused more than 100 of his patients--mostly girls, ages three months to 10 years. He videoed the assaults. There were complaints against him for years, and he was allowed to practice and abuse his patients for years, because no one wanted to believe a doctor could be this sick and dangerous.

He was. It was shocking. What shocked me more were the complaints from people about the news coverage: "I don't want to read that kind of stuff while I have my breakfast." "It makes the area look bad." "Why do the stories have to be so lurid?"

Tough shit, people. It happened, to tiny little children whose parents brought them to a doctor who was slick and manipulative. It should make you uncomfortable, and you should be reading about it at breakfast. The world is not safe or pretty, and as long as we pretend that is it, it won't get any safer or prettier.

[Harley]

I tried to watch, but my computer is slow at rebuffering (what IS rebuffering?) that it would take me several days to get to that red shoe part. Just as well. My daughters are only 2 years older than the girls in the film and I'm like Kathy. KidJep isn't for me.

I was taking a course a few years back in Criminal Investigative Analysis and was fine with all sorts of grisly crime scene footage, but when I had to watch a very mild-mannered murder/rapist interviewed in prison, describing softly what he'd done to a little boy, I couldn't handle it. I was able to stay in the classroom until the video was over, but just barely. Any thoughts I had about becoming part of the law enforcement world vanished.

Sarah, I'm glad your mom threw a fit. And I'm glad the kindly Herricks were home that day.

[William]

There's a scene in PRODROMOS where Nicholas hears on the television that the child killer he helped catch has been sentenced to death. He raises his glass to the screen and says out loud, "I hope it hurts. I hope they shove the needle up your ass *sideways* before they flip the switch to send you straight to Hell."

That, Ladies and Gents, is my personal wish for Dr. Earl Bradley. Yeah, I said it. In public.

Rehabilitation is not an option for a creature like that. Rehab is tough enough when the patient WANTS to change. Creatures like Bradley, they see nothing wrong with what they do. God help us, it's NORMAL for them, it's their world and the rest of us live in it.

[sarah]

I should point out that this movie was used as a pretense to round up "sexual deviants" in Mansfield, Ohio. When they arrested the murderer only 5 hours after finding the bodies, the 19 year old said, "You're looking at the wrong guy. Where you should be focusing your efforts is in the (Mansfield) Central Park men's room. I got a blow job there just last night."
So, the cops set up a 2-way mirror and rounded up the town's closeted homosexuals. Go figure. Persecution, pure and simple.
And maybe I should have rephrased my question: Is it worth being scarred for life by a movie like this on the teeny tiny possibility it saved my neck back in 1971?

[William]

If it saved your life, Sarah, then it's a good thing you saw it. A little less long-term trauma would have been nice, though.

[Alan P.]

The lessons could be taught better. As William has pointed out, Uncle Louie, Coach Dave and Fr. Will are much bigger dangers than the creepy guy.

I guess after Penn State we should make a new movie. All about the abdication of authority to do anything to stop these assorted monsters, catch them after they commit their crimes and punish them after conviction.

Count me with William, I'll line up to pull the switch on these scumbags and kick the remains.

[Josh]

What Ramona did not point out, I think, is that EVERYBODY in the local medical community thought Bradley was a creep, but no one would do anything about it. In that respect, I think lawyers are better than doctors, in that we police our own profession better than they do. (Of course, we mainly just steal money, not commit bodily harm.)

[Hank Phillippi Ryan]

Oh, Yikes. Okay..I'll watch it. Maybe. (I mostly remember Hemo the Magnificent, which wasn't one bit scary.)

[NancyP]

My guess is that you wouldn't have gone near him anyway, just as I didn't get near the man who tried to get little me, walking alone, to go into his dark church to "help me change a lightbulb. Little girl, don't you want to help me?" (I recently wrote a short story about it.)

Sarah, did your mom report it to the cops? I've always been sorry that I didn't tell my parents, so nothing was done. Of course, we were much less likely to report things then.

[Sandi]

I won't watch it. I'm with William - except for one, every rape, every sexual assault, and every child molestation I've ever been personally aware of except for one was a person known, sometimes very well known, to the survivor. Babysitters, cousins, uncles, brothers, grandfathers, teachers, coaches... we shouldn't be teaching kids to be afraid of strangers. We should be teaching them to trust their instincts and tell adults when something feels wrong. We should also be teaching adults to listen and act.

Another problems is that we tell kids not to talk to strangers, and if they are lost or feel threatened they should to go to the police. To small children, anyone in a uniform is the police and predators can easily take advantage of that. Instead, kids should be encouraged to ask for help from a woman. Statistically women are far less likely to harm a child.

[Nancy Martin]

Ye gods, it's like showing porn to kids. Second grade! I'm such a weenie, though. But clearly, it traumatized you, Sarah.

I remember being shown Duck & Cover in school and being totally puzzled by it. After the movie, we went out into the school hallway and sat on the floor along the lockers, holding textbooks over our heads. Yeah, that'll save us from The Bomb, which we totally confused with Sputnik. I didn't traumatize me, but confused the hell out of us.

[Karen in Ohio]

This entire discussion gives us all food for thought.

It's a tough situation, altogether. We teach children not to talk to "strangers", but fail to define the term. So many times in public places I've talked to children with their parents, generally who urge the shy child to interact with me. More than one mom has been taken aback by my response: "Well, I am a stranger, and really, she shouldn't talk to me, if she doesn't want to."

Sarah, I had the same experience, where someone tried to get me into a car and I balked. But I also remember in first grade, missing the bus, and getting a ride to my street from a total stranger. Looking back at my silly small self I'm still grateful for both the ride and for the safe delivery.

About 10 years later I was invited into a car by a good-looking guy who was driving down our street in a convertible MG with his top down. When I looked down he was exposing himself, so I hustled back the way I'd come so he couldn't follow me easily (a fairly busy street). Fortunately, a boyfriend's brother was using the phone booth at the corner, and when I knocked on the door of the booth the guy in the car took off.

Street smarts are a good thing to have, at any age.

[Elaine Viets]

Very scary. But I agree with William. The real danger comes from "funny uncles" and other trusted people. The kids need to be warned -- and the parents and authorities need to understand that the nice doctor, excellent coach and sweet old man are monsters in disguise.

[Marian Allen]

In addition to films like these, I had an aunt who frequently told me news stories about girls who were abducted and taken into the woods. The stories always ended with, "And he stripped her and he raped her." I was in middle school before I knew people could have sex with their clothes on. It's a wonder I ever talked to a man at all. I've been diagnosed as having a chronic anxiety/depressive disorder, but I don't know if that's a result of the "helpful" advice or in addition to it.

It was a real battle for me to communicate safety tips to our daughters without passing on my pathology.

Ugh!

[sarah]

Marian - I have done that to my daughter. She told me this weekend that while other kids were scared of monsters under the bed, she was scared of pedophiles who had nothing to lose.

Gosh. She's going to be an AWESOME writer :)

[Deb]

Around here, more than one coach has been convicted of sexual abuse of kids on their teams. It always makes me wonder how many other kids might have been assaulted but were afraid to tell their parents. I find it difficult to believe that these coaches were arrested the very first time they harmed a child.

When I was growing up, a lot of people would have asked an adolescent girl what she did to "make" the stranger ask her into his car. I think everyone knows someone who was lucky enough to get away who was afraid to tell their parents or to go to the police, for that reason.

Sarah, I cannot bring myself to view the film. I am sure that it would cause nightmares.

[Reine]

. . . even fathers. How could anyone prepare a child for that? There is no way. I blame no one for not telling me to be careful of my father. Y'know?

[Storyteller Mary]

Odd that they showed this film to children, as every reference in it makes it clear that the intended audience is parents with advice on why and how to teach their children, and other adults, advised not to worry about being thought to be "busybodies" (there's that word again, I'm thinking of forming a Noble Order of Busybodies). I think someone didn't preview or read guidelines on this film before showing it -- totally inappropriate for young children.
When discussing personal safety with our pre-school children, we would remind the children of their own right to privacy, and that people should not be touching them in the parts of their bodies covered by swimsuits, and to tell people they trusted if they were ever uncomfortable in a situation. I don't know how well they understood it, though, so better to keep an eye on them . . . after our poison prevention "Mr. Yuk" unit, a mom asked her three-year-old what the illustration of pills was and she replied, "Candy."

[lil Gluckstern]

This is too disturbing, but its intentions are good. What's scary is that teeny tiny chance sometimes happens. As we found out so recently. Fortunately, kids are taught better today about good and bad touching and "funny uncles." What is tragic is the abuse of power positions to seduce the child to accept the abuse. You know what is sad is that people lose the friendliness that makes life so much fun. Law & Order: SVU is a great teacher of what to tell your children not to do. Chills.

[Joshilyn Jackson]

Yikes I can;t get it to run. I am kinda glad.

For me, it was ANY TIME IS TRAIN TIME. They showed it to us in Driver's ed. I was a freshman. I refused to DRIVE. I was a senior before my father finally MADE me learn because he was afraid to let me go off to college with no ability to drive.

I still am scared to drive over railroad tracks.

[Storyteller Mary]

oh, yes, Josh, I still see the driver's ed movie with a car sliding under a semi -- and give semis a wide berth, so I guess it was effective. I didn't actually get a driver's license until I was 25+ and about to begin working as an insurance agent . . . can't very well make appointments reliant on bus routes . . .

[gaylin in Vancouver]

Never heard of this movie and nope, not watching it!

The first time I was molested I was 3, in the hospital to get my tonsils out and there was a not-so-nice nurse on the ward. When I was a kid most warnings were to watch out for bad strangers, the strangers were always men. I guess no one told that nurse she wasn't supposed to be bad . . .

By the time my step-grandfather got his hands on me when I was 8, I had been molested by a neighbour and a family friend. My step-grandfather kept abusing me until I was 12, only stopped when my 12 year old cousin got pregnant. My aunt, who is still clueless kept saying my cousin's boyfriend got her pregnant. This was 1972 folks, guess my step-grandfather wasn't just abusing me. My cousin and I have never talked about it, she lives back east and as far as I know doesn't talk about it at all.

When I was 6 & my younger brother was 3 a car stopped and the guys asked for directions to our house. I gave them to him but refused to get in the car. Sure enough when we got home they were visiting our parents. By 6, I was already scared of strangers.

After we moved to BC we found out that the principal of our old elementary school had been arrested as a pedophile. His preference was boys. In those days did they even warn boys about stranger danger or pedophiles or was it just girls who got warned.

On a lighter note, the school movie that traumatized me for years was the stupid film on getting your period. I was sure I was going to either (a) bleed to death or (b) bleed every day for the rest of my life. Sheesh.

[Margaret Maron]

The one that traumatized me was the very graphic childbirth film they showed to girls for sex ed. I can still remember how repulsed I was by that huge umbilical cord.

[Karen in Ohio]

Ye gods, Gaylin and Reine.

Last week I cited a statistic I've heard/read over the years, that one third of women have been molested or raped in their lives. Some of us clearly started getting taken advantage of earlier than others. It's terribly sad, when adults satisfy their own base urges with the sacrifice of the innocence of a child.

[Reine]

Thank you, Karen. It isn't something I talk about easily. But I do want to say that my father never had a father-daughter relationship with me. I take that back. He did until I was almost 5, when his attitude toward me changed suddenly. He had spanked me but stopped suddenly. I can almost see the moment. He distanced himself and, from that point onward, started talking to me as if I were an adult. I do not believe he saw me as a child, his child, after that moment.

[gaylin in Vancouver]

It might seem an odd thing to say but I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I didn't live in the same house with anyone who abused me so it was not a daily fear and I also had fun as a child. I think if there is no joy in your life at all, it makes everything worse. I had a friend who was abused by a neighbour, she committed suicide at 45. I don't think she had ever had a moment of fun as a child and never found a way to deal with life in any positive manner.

I have also done hours of therapy, big believer in that. Finding a safe place to talk is really important, doesn't matter how long ago the abuse happened. My mom never talked about how her step-father abused her until I told her that he abused me as well.

[Pam aka SisterZip]

Such courage is being shown here. One of the hardest things, my cousin told me, is to be able to talk about the abuse. Her uncle, not on my side, abused her for about 3 years before he died of a heart attack with his pants down around his ankles. She got the help she needed and now we can smile about that mental image.

My daughter was about 8 when the public school in the neighborhood sent letters home to all their students describing a car that had been seen trying to get a child to get in. Puppy, candy, directions...all had been used to try to get the kids close to the car. Because my daughter & two of the neighbor kids went to private school, we tried to explain to the girls what to do if they see the car. The two girls across the street were terrified and wouldn't leave their house for weeks. My daughter, sigh, said she would got right up to the car and hit him. We explained that he would be bigger, stronger, and meaner than she could be. It took a long time to get it through her head to get an adult if she saw the car. She is 20 years older, but just as tough. She could probably take him now, lol.

When my stepdaughter was 12 (she is now 38), she was walking 6 blocks to the Moose Lodge where her mom & stepdad were. It was right after school, full daylight, and would only take about 20 minutes. She noticed a truck following her after a block. He pulled over and tried to get her to come over to the truck. She said, "No! Go away." and kept walking. After another block, he pulled ahead and got out of the truck and was standing on the sidewalk, waiting for her. A car pulled into a driveway between her & the man. He ran to the truck and took off. A younger man got out of the car and asked her if she was ok. Did she know the man? Where was she headed and did she want a ride? She kept her distance and told the younger man where she was headed, that her parents were expecting her and if he thought she would get into his car, he was crazy. He took a step back and said that he would follow her to the Moose Lodge and tell her parents what had happened. He had the presence of mind to get the plate number off the truck and they called the police. He lived in another city just 10 miles away from her house(for you StLouis people, my stepdaughter was living in Maplewood and the guy lived in Ballwin) and was known by the police. But because he really didn't do anything, they couldn't do anything at the time. Dear Hubby wanted to go looking for him (we had a friend of a friend who could look up his address from the plate number) but we managed to talk him down.

[Reine]

Gaylin, yes. And I actually had a lot of fun growing up. I had a lot of people who watched out for me and took me in. Things were not always bad. My father was working overseas much of the time. What happened was very bad, but it was not my entire life. No, not at all.

[lil Gluckstern]

How remarkable you people are, and how resilient. I was five years old and a man in the next apartment house offered to buy me an ice cream. I never ran so fast in my life. Now I wonder what put me on to him. Gaylin and Reine -lots of wisdom in you guys, and you show the kindness you learned from those who helped you along the road.

[Reine]

Ah, Lil, thank you. You are so dear. It took a long time to find my way to giving back as a psychotherapist and counselor/advisor, but I did. It's good that it took me so long, because I had to be in the world doing a lot of other things for a many years. I learned to keep on and just keep going. I needed to learn how a person might be able to live with . . . and not fear . . . and not let go . . . yet not wallow . . . and be free. It turns out that getting old is very freeing.

[Laraine]

How do you educate small children, who are still trying to learn the difference between confabulation and 'reality', to be safe, without scaring the bejeebers out of them and scarring them for life?

I think that parents should be educated and then given ideas and guidelines for educating their children, knowing the child's temperament and vulnerabilities.

A friend of mine was so terrified of strangers and of misbehaving men that, even in her late 20's, she literally would shake for hours after an encounter with an unsavory stranger; another friend was pragmatic and realistic and would simply report that some idiot tried to come on to her on the bus or whatever, and then she'd go on about her life. Each of them needed different education and preparation as a child--neither needed to watch murder porn.