The person who made it possible for me to get out of Southern was Sarah Warner,daughter of Mark and Edith Warner. First, let me tell you about the Warners because I've beenintertwined with that family since September 6, 1970 when I first met Dr. Warner. Sarah wasborn in 1952 to Dr. Mark Warner. a Professor of English History at Northwestern, and his wifeEdith. Dr. Warner came from a middle class family; his father was a postman and his mother atelephone operator. Both completed high school. Dr. Warner stood out as gifted from a youngage, reading at 3 and knowing all his addition and subtraction facts by 4. His photographicmemory was astounding. After hearing or seeing something just once, he remembered it. He hada scholarship for his four years of undergraduate study at Harvard and then fellowships for hisgraduate studies also at Harvard. Not only was he brilliant, he was charming. He always had atrace of a smile on his face which made him look like he was thinking about something pleasant.He had a special talent for making people feel comfortable and making engaging conversation.He was at ease with all types of people in all types of social situations. He was gifted socially aswell as intellectually. He had it all wrapped up in one good looking package.Edith was quite different. She came from a wealthy Chicago family that made its moneyfrom the meatpacking industry. She lived the life of privilege and brought lots of money to themarriage. They were a strange match. First, they looked so different. Dr. Warner was a tall,handsome man with a thick head of black hair when he was young, and salt and pepper hair as heaged. He walked with a limp because of a skiing accident in Switzerland. What a romantic

reason for a limp. For most of us, the reason for a limp would be that we tripped over an untiedshoelace, but not for Mark Warner. Edith Warner was tiny and bird-like. She was one of thosewomen who wears a size zero dress. Someone once called them X-ray women because theywere so thin, you could see their bones through their clothes. She wore her straight, platinumblond hair pulled back tightly in a bun. As she got older, her hair turned white, but it didn't lookthat different from the blond hair that she had all her life so she never seemed to change withage. She had a cute face with a turned up nose and full lips. I never saw her wear casual clothes.Most of the time she wore suits with pearls around her neck and diamond earrings, even if shewas just home for the day.

Personality-wise, she was quite different from Dr. Warner because she was aloof, as ifanyone poorer than her, and that would be almost everyone, wasn't as good as she was. In otherwords, she was a snob and she made no secret of it. She never worked because she didn't haveto, and because women of her class didn't work. She filled her days with three pastimes -collecting nineteenth century English art, genealogy, and socializing with her lady friends. Shewent to lunch almost every day with some of her rich girlfriends. I don't know why she went tolunch because she rarely ate more than a spoonful of anything. But these lunches were forsocializing, not eating.

Edith's greatest passion was her family tree. She had a huge framed diagram of theWilson family tree going back to sixteenth century England hanging in the entryway of herhouse. It was the first thing that hit you when you walked in the house. She searched antiquemarkets in England and the states to find paintings of her ancestors. Covering the walls of herhome's hallways, living room, dining room, and library were paintings of English naval captains,members of Parliament, and clergymen going back to the 1600's. All were part of the Wilsonfamily. Her ancestors came to America in the 1700's, and their paintings also graced the walls ofthe Warner home. First, they went to Boston where they went into banking, and then whenChicago became a wide open city of opportunity, they moved west to go into the meatpackingbusiness, which in the old days was like high tech business today. These paintings of herancestors plus the English art on the walls gave the impression of a house in England. Not thatI've ever been to England, but it's what I imagine a house in England must look like.

Edith met Mark through her passion for her English ancestors. She had questions about arelative named Sir Henry Wilson who was aide to George II in 1753. She was told that aprofessor at Northwestern named Mark Warner knew about this particular person. Edith fell inlove with Mark as soon as she entered his office, even before he answered her first question. Sheactively pursued him because he had everything she wanted in a husband; he was handsome,charming, intelligent, knowledgeable about English history, and most importantly had goodgenes that would lead to beautiful, brilliant babies to carry on the Wilson lineage.Oh I forgot, Edith had another interest, if not passion, and that was money. She sat on theboards of her family's different businesses where she closely monitored the growth of her wealththanks to her ancestors' business sense. Weekly, she conferred with her financial advisor to makesure that her money was earning more money. She gave Dr. Warner a weekly allowance just likeI eventually received from him. Mine was $50 a week and I think his was $5,000 a week. He didnot own any of their property although he did own his Cadillac and his sailboat. Edith kept Dr.Warner on a leash with money as the dangling reward for his good behavior as a husband.Mark had grown up in a middle class family where he never lacked the basic necessitiesof life, but once he got to Harvard he realized he lacked certain types of material things that hewanted. Although he was among the brightest students at Harvard, he was never accepted by hisfellow students who were members of America's wealthy elite. Marriage to Edith gave himacceptance by such people, and more importantly, it gave him material things that he very muchwanted: a beautiful home staffed by servants, a summer house on the upper peninsula ofMichigan, frequent trips to England and Europe, and indulgence in his favorite pastime of sailinghis sleek 36 foot sailboat.

Mark and Edith seemed to have a loving marriage until Sarah's birth. In pre-Sarah days,they were a charmed couple, frequently seen at social events at the university or in the upperclass social circles of Chicago. You'd see their names on the society pages of the Trib wherethey would be pictured attending charity balls and on the sports page where Mark's performancein sailing competition would be reported.

They'd married when Mark was 30 and Edith 32, and had a son a year later. They namedhim Walter, the name of many of Edith's ancestors. It was obvious from an early age that Walter

would follow in his father's footsteps intellectually. He, too, learned to read at age three andshowed a photographic memory. But he lacked Mark's personality. Rather, Walter was seriousand business-like, even as a young child.

They had no other children for 10 years and thought that Walter would be their onlychild. The consulted fertility specialists in the hope of conceiving again, but doctors could findno reason for their inability to produce another child. They had given up using birth control sothey were surprised when at 43, Edith got pregnant. They were ecstatic, hoping for a girl tocomplete their perfect family. On June 18, 1952, they had their wished-for girl, but as it turnedout, she was not the right kind of girl. At her birth, the doctor immediately saw the unmistakablesigns of Down Syndrome - slanted eyes, extra eye fold, broad flat face, poor muscle tone, andweak reflexes. The doctor whisked the baby away so the Warners never saw their little girl withplatinum blond hair. Just like my experience when I had you, they never saw their daughter. Butthe reason for them not seeing their daughter was quite different from the reason that I didn't seeyou. The doctor told them that their daughter had Down Syndrome, but he didn't use thosewords. He said she was a mongoloid. She would never be capable of any learning; she wouldnever be able to do anything - talk, feed herself, read, give love, or receive love. He painted thegrimmest possible picture of Sarah's future. He told them that they shouldn't take her homebecause they shouldn't bond with her, and then find that they had to give her up. It would be toohard on them emotionally. She had to be put away immediately. She had to be put out of sight,and then she would be out of mind. They had no way of knowing that what he said was wrong.He was a doctor so they trusted him. They were vulnerable having just experienced the death oftheir dream child. They had wished for a beautiful girl who would grow up like her mother, adelicate woman of culture who revered her present and past family. So they followed thedoctor's advice. They never thought of questioning his recommendation. I don't want to paint thedoctor as an evil man. This is what doctors believed back then, and this is what they did in suchcases, especially with wealthy upper class people.

The Warners' perfect world collapsed. Edith was devastated by the news and retreatedinto a shell, not talking for months. She became catatonic. Dr. Warner made all the decisionsfrom the moment of Sarah's birth. He followed the doctor's recommendation to give Sarah upand never see her. He told the world that their baby had died at birth of a congenital heart

condition. The doctor asked Dr. Warner for a name for the birth certificate. They had planned oncalling her Sarah so Sarah she would be, but a dead Sarah to the world. Dr. Warner broughtEdith home after three days in the hospital. He wanted her away from the maternity ward and thehorrendous memories of what had just happened. He hired nurses to be with her 24 hours a day.He didn't allow any visitors, although many people wanted to come to offer their sympathy onthe death of their daughter. Walter was told that his baby sister died at birth and that his motherwas sick. Walter was allowed to see his mother 10 minutes a day. He watched her stare intospace afraid that she, too, might die. Other than the nurses and the household help, there were novisitors to the Warner house for almost a year. Edith refused to see her lady friends who she hadshared lunches with daily. The outside world thought that Edith was mourning for her lost child,and they were right, but she wasn't lost. She was deported to the land of the retarded, never to beseen again.

Let me tell you that institutionalizing handicapped newborns was not an unusual practicein the past, especially with wealthy people like the Warners. To have a retarded child, especiallyone with Down Syndrome was the worst stigma imaginable in their social circle. Just think of theKennedys and how they hid their retarded daughter Rosemary for years. They even had herlobotomized. They were told that brain surgery would control her behavior. It sure did. It madeher into a zombie. Having a mentally handicapped child was unacceptable to Edith. How couldthe Wilson blood line be perpetuated with a damaged child? Sarah would appear on the familytree with the dates of 1952 for her birth and 1952 for her death. A child like this couldn't beallowed to tarnish the perfect Wilson family tree.

I was recently reminded of how much our attitudes toward raising a handicapped childhave changed. I was at a performance of the musical Les Mis when I was happily shocked to seea mother and her Down Syndrome daughter in the crowd waiting to be taken to their seats. Whatshocked me was that BOTH of them wore sumptuous mink coats and BOTH wore large diamondearrings that glistened brightly. I watched them as they walked to their seats in the fourth row ofthe orchestra section. The daughter walked with confidence, almost as if she knew people werewatching her performance. Now that's total acceptance of a handicapped child.The doctor took responsibility for Sarah from the day of her birth. He arranged for her tobe sent to a foster home while plans were made to institutionalize her at Southern. He wanted her

at Southern so she would be far from Chicago and because Southern had a good reputation forkeeping the identity of its residents confidential. Sarah wasn't the only child of the rich andfamous to be deported to Southern. At three months of age, Sarah was placed in the baby ward atSouthern where she lived without a visit from her family for 18 years. For all that time, she wasan orphan.

During the 18 years since she had been sent away, Dr. Warner couldn't stop thinking ofher. Time didn't kill his curiosity about where she was, what she was like, and even if she wasalive. On the other hand, Edith was successful in blocking Sarah out of her mind, and neverthought about her. To Edith, Sarah was indeed dead. Every year on Sarah's birthday, Dr.Warner brought up Sarah's name and asked Edith if they should find her. And every year Edithrefused to allow him to do this. She wanted to keep Sarah dead.

Eventually Edith came out of her depression and re-entered her social world. She wasback to daily lunching with her lady friends and collecting English art and managing hermillions. Although they proclaimed their love for each other, their marriage had changed. Dr.Warner stopped talking about Sarah, but he didn't stop thinking about her so a slow-growingcancer grew between them. It ate at them when they saw a couple walking a baby in a strollerpast their house. It ate at them when they saw a photo of a movie star or politician holding ababy. It ate at them when they heard someone say the name Sarah. Walter never thought abouthis dead sister. Why would he? He was sent East to prep school, and then to Harvard. He went tothe University of Chicago Law School, and eventually joined one of the top law firms in the city.Edith was proud of how the Wilson family tree was being represented by Walter. She was eagerfor him to marry and populate the tree with perfect gifted children.Now let me describe Sarah's life at Southern, and how I got to know her. Sarah wasraised in the baby and children's wards. Although she was slow to learn, she did eventuallylearn to walk and perform self care tasks, like feeding herself and dressing and washing. She hadsome language, but much of it was unintelligible. What made Sarah different from the otherresidents at Southern was that she was pretty. People never think of retarded people, especiallypeople with Down Syndrome, as being good looking, but some of them are. Sarah had platinumblond hair, light blue eyes, and perfect white skin. She had a pretty round face with pouty lipsand a turned-up nose. In other words, she looked like her mother. If they were placed next to

each other, it would be apparent that they were mother and daughter. She certainly had thecharacteristics of Down Syndrome - especially the slanted eyes. She was tiny, even shorter thanme. And although she was a bit pudgy, she seemed to have the baby fat that many children have.Sarah looked like an angel, especially when she smiled. And at first, Sarah was like many peoplewith Down Syndrome because of her sweetness. She was always smiling; but maybe she got thatfrom her dad. She smiled even when it wasn't appropriate. For example, if someone saidsomething sad, she smiled. She didn't really understand a lot of what was going on around her,and her reflex was to smile. But that smiling stopped after the terrible things that happened toher. It took a long time for her smiles to return, but eventually they did.Sarah lived in the ward for young women with moderate mental retardation, most withDown Syndrome. Almost all the residents were docile, but there were a few who wereaggressive. When Sarah was 13, a woman in her ward started picking on her. Who knows why?Maybe because Sarah had this angelic, innocent look about her, she was a perfect victim. Thiswoman kicked her and tripped her and dumped food on her head, and then laughed hysterically.Sarah responded passively which made this woman do even more to her. One day when no onewas looking, the woman attacked Sarah and broke a finger and blackened an eye before theattendants stopped her. The staff thought they could stop the harassment by just separating thetwo, placing them as far apart as possible in the ward. But one night, the woman woke Sarah andstarted hitting her in the face with a shoe, breaking one of her front teeth. An attendant stoppedher before she did any more damage. To solve the problem, the woman was transferred toanother ward. Sarah changed dramatically after this attack and became silent and depressed.She kept her head down and didn't look at people. Who wouldn't change after something likethat happened to them? She was afraid to go to sleep fearing another night-time attack. She evenstopped eating. She shook with fear when anyone came near her. The staff decided that a moveto another ward might help her. So they transferred her to a ward for residents with moderateretardation who were older and hopefully, less aggressive. Some of the women in this wardstarted to pick on Sarah. I think maybe they knew why Sarah had been transferred to their ward,and they just continued the harassment. They took her food away which didn't matter becauseSarah had stopped eating anyway. They came up behind her and scared her, laughing when theysaw her jump with fear and cry like a baby. They hid her shoes and socks so she walked aroundbarefoot until an attendant noticed. They threw things at her, sometimes hurting her. The

problem was that it was not just one person harassing her; it was a group of four women. So theproblem couldn't be solved by just separating Sarah. For some reason, Sarah had been markedas a victim. I often wonder how retarded people pick up on this, just like everybody else. Maybeit's the same thing with bullies in schools. They sense who they can victimize, and it was true ofthe retarded women in this case.

The staff knew that they had to move Sarah again. They were increasingly concernedabout her safety because the harassment was getting worse. One of the attendants on the olderwomen's ward had worked on the baby ward with me in the past and knew of my reputation as acaring person. She suggested that they move Sarah to my ward even though she was at a muchlower cognitive level than all the residents on my ward. She felt that I could serve as herprotector since I was normal and since I had shown kindness to my babies. A woman who I laterlearned was in charge of all attendants in the women's wards came to talk to me. I knew it wasimportant because she took me to an office to talk alone. I don't recall her name. I'm not evensure she gave her name. She told me what had happened to Sarah in her previous placements,and because of my reputation as being helpful, she wanted me to look after Sarah. She didn't askif I'd do this; she just assumed I would. And she was right. I would never say I wouldn't do this.Remember, I was a tame animal. I did what was expected and always with a smile.Although I had no choice in the matter, privately I had some reservations about taking onSarah. I liked helping others, but I also didn't like having the added responsibility. But it didn'tmatter how I felt, they were going to do this anyway. When Sarah was moved into my ward, Iwas given the day off so I could help her adjust to her new surroundings. They brought her intothe ward in a wheelchair even though she could walk. They put her in the bed next to mine so Ihad Sarah on one side and Judy on the other. She looked like a frightened animal, shaking, eyesshut tight, and groaning. When they put her into bed, she laid in the fetal position.Much like Judy had done with me several years earlier, I sat on the edge of her bed andtalked to her in a quiet, soothing voice as I gently stroked her hair. When I first touched her, shejumped as if she was being attacked, but as I continued stroking her and talking to her about howshe was going to get better, she calmed down. After a few hours, I got her out of bed and tookher to the bathroom. She was filthy. No one had wiped her bottom in a long while. She also wasvery much in need of a bath. She cringed when I tried to clean her. Despite speaking in a soft,

comforting voice, she wouldn't let me clean her. A little later, an attendant brought us our lunchtrays. I treated Sarah like a baby and fed her spoonfuls as I imitated how she should open hermouth wide. I gently held her head back as I fed her some milk. At the end of the meal, shelooked at me. That was the first time she had raised her eyes. I knew I was on track to bringingher back to life. And I was right. I was given another two days off and during that time westarted to bond. By the end of the second day, she let me take her into the shower and wash her.That was an accomplishment. When I went back to work, I would first take her to the cafeteriawith me for breakfast. Then I'd bring her back to her bed where she'd spend the morning. She'dlie there and close her eyes and moan. Then back again for lunch and finally dinner. After aweek, I took her to the day room after dinner. In the early days, she'd just sit and stare into space.Gradually, she watched everyone and seemed to become part of the group even though she rarelyspoke.

My biggest breakthrough came after we'd been together for three or four weeks and shelooked me in the eye and said ever so softly - "Mary." She said it as clear as a bell. I can't tellyou the joy I felt. I knew that I was bringing Sarah back to the world. The attendants on the wardwere very complimentary to me saying that I was a miracle worker. Judy wasn't too happybecause it meant that we spent less time together with just the two of us. But she knew that myspecial talent was helping people, and that Sarah desperately needed help.With time, Sarah came out of her shell. She held my hand all the time and hugged me alot. I loved the affection. I arranged for her to come with me to the baby ward so she wouldn'tjust lie in bed all day. I planted her in a chair so she would be out of the way of the staff. Shewatched my every movement. When I hummed to the babies, she hummed along. When therewas a problem and everyone including me looked worried, she became agitated. This lasted forabout two months until the head nurse visited the ward. She asked what Sarah was doing there,and I told her. She said that she didn't want her there even though the staff insisted that Sarahwasn't causing problems. This was the head nurse and no one could argue with her. So it wasback to the ward for Sarah where she spent most of the day sitting in a chair staring into spaceeagerly awaiting my return.

After a few weeks, Sarah's prettiness became apparent. I primped her like a doll. I triedto style her hair despite the institutional cut. In six months Sarah was a new Sarah. And she

became my puppy dog. She followed me everywhere and stood behind me as I talked to people.She was my shadow. She imprinted like I was the mother duck and she was the duckling. I didn'tmind. In fact, I was beginning to like being important to another human being, and also because Iwas falling in love with Sarah. I was the first person Sarah loved. No one showed her anykindness before me. For 13 years she had been unloved, but her need for love hadn't dried up. Icame into her life and filled that need. And maybe I needed to love her as much as she needed tobe loved. She became my baby sister even though she was only two years younger than me.Judy was my older sister and Sarah was my younger sister. I had a family.And then the unthinkable happened. I start to shake when I think of that horrible,horrible tragedy. For three years, we settled into a comfortable routine that was shattered June17, 1968, one day before her 16th birthday although we didn't know it was her birthday then.Sarah was not usually away from me, but she had gotten a bad case of the stomach flu whenthere was another epidemic, and we had lots of them. She always caught whatever bug was goingaround. Her fever spiked to 104 and she became de-hydrated so she was transferred to thehospital. I visited her everyday to calm her. When she was away from me, she became agitated,but just seeing me soothed her. I tried to visit her at lunch time and also after dinner, but Icouldn't always get away. It was the fourth day and she was starting to get better. I hadn't had achance to visit her all day, and I knew she wouldn't sleep if I didn't see her so I got permission tosay good-night to her at bedtime. When I got to her bed, she wasn't there. There was nobodyaround. All the staff was down at the other end of the ward. There was some kind of commotiongoing on. People were yelling and an alarm bell was ringing. I had a premonition that somethingwas wrong so I went to the bathroom to see if she was there. She wasn't on any of thecommodes. I heard this grunting and moaning coming from the shower area. I looked behind oneof the short walls that kept the water from flowing out onto the floor, and I saw a sight that stillhaunts me. This huge man with his pants down was attacking my poor little Sarah. He waspumping up and down as he was beating at Sarah's face. This was a vision of evil attackinggood. I thought fast and moved even faster. I felt adrenaline pumping through my bodyenergizing me to attack this savage. I ripped the safety pin from the inside hem of my dress andjumped on his back as I stabbed him inside his ear over and over and over. He screamed, and ashe pulled up, I fell off him. When he came at me, I stabbed him over and over in his eyeball. Ihad to stop this savage. I looked at his face and etched it into my memory. He had a bulbous

nose and pock-marks on his cheeks. He was bleeding from one ear and one eye. He pulled thepin from my hand and banged my head on the floor and then punched me in the face. By then,some of the staff heard my screams and came running. They pulled him off me and dragged himaway. A male attendant picked Sarah up. She was like a rag doll. Her arms and legs hunglifelessly. I was sure she was dead. He carried her to her bed. The nurse called her name overand over, but she didn't respond. She checked and found she was breathing, but just barely. Herface was covered with blood from where he had hit her in the nose and mouth. Her lower bodywas covered with blood because, of course, she was a virgin and she was a small child who wasinvaded by a huge animal. I got in bed with her and hugged her tight as I told her she was safenow. I would protect her forever. I didn't say what I was feeling which was that I had failed her.I hadn't protected her from this savage. I didn't know that I would spend my life feeling guilt fornot protecting her then or later. I was the only person in the world who loved her and I wasn'tthere for her when she most needed me. Of course, when I look back at the situation, I know thatI couldn't have protected her and I shouldn't feel guilt, but sometimes I still do.A nurse checked to see if I was seriously injured. I had a big bump on the back of myhead where he had banged my head on the floor and a huge black and blue mark on my cheek, ablack eye, and blood dripping from my mouth where my teeth had banged into my lips, but I wasokay physically, certainly not emotionally. I got back in bed with Sarah and held her as I said,"I'm sorry," over and over again. In the morning, I washed her. She opened her eyes, but she wasunseeing. She was still in a state of shock. Rape is hard enough to understand if you have normalintelligence, but it is totally incomprehensible to a retarded person. To her, she was beingmurdered. And maybe the rapist would have killed her if I hadn't stopped him. Maybe he wouldhave beaten her to death.

I wanted Sarah to be examined by a doctor, but not then. I knew she wouldn't let a mantouch her. Maybe a nurse could do an examination later. I spent the next four days with her in thehospital, and when she was well enough, she was sent back to the ward. If I had thought that shewas my shadow before, she certainly was after the rape. I even let her sleep with me in ournarrow cot. I knew she had to be with me all the time. A week later a nurse examined her andfound that miraculously she hadn't been damaged. They thought that the rapist hadn't fullypenetrated her because she was so small, but they weren't sure. She had vaginal tears, but they

had started to heal over by the time she was examined so she wasn't given any stitches. Theconcern now was pregnancy. I asked the nurse if she could get pregnant. The nurse didn't thinkso because there had never been a baby born to a person with Down Syndrome that she knew of.We monitored her closely until she got her period a week later. We all heaved a sigh of relief.What would happen to a baby born to a mother with Down Syndrome? Would it be normal? Ifso, would anyone want to adopt it? If it was born with Down Syndrome, it would be anothergeneration for Southern. Thank God she wasn't pregnant.

I learned the rapist was Jack Miller, an attendant with a history of arrests, some forviolent crimes, but of course, he was still hired at Southern. It was so hard to get people to workin the locked wards, but Jack Miller was glad to work with these people because he could getpaid for being violent. I found out that he had seen Sarah and thought she looked like an angel.He was obsessed with her and talked about how he would give her true love. If he screwed her,she would become normal and they could marry and run away and live happily ever after. Nowthat's the craziest fairy tale I ever heard. I know that a kiss woke Sleeping Beauty and a kisstransformed a frog into a prince, but a screwing as a cure for mental retardation. That makes forone giant unbelievable fairy tale.

One night Miller and some other attendants took a resident from the violent ward to thehospital for treatment. This resident had killed another resident in a fight and had been injuredhimself. The person was in shackles so he couldn't get away, but he was out-of-control,screaming and squirming and trying to bite anyone who came near him. So obviously everyonewas paying attention to him, and not Miller. Miller spotted Sarah lying in one of the beds. Hereshe was helpless and unguarded. It was an open invitation. No one noticed him carry Sarah to thebathroom where he raped her. I'm sure this wasn't the first time he had raped someone atSouthern, but he hadn't been caught before. At last he was caught, but it was too late. He'd donehis damage to Sarah. I didn't know then what happened to him afterwards. I asked around tofind out if he was arrested or not. All I was told was that he no longer at Southern. But JackMiller came back into our lives and did more damage, irreversible damage. He was the devil. Ido believe that there are evil people in the world - people like Hitler and Stalin and Jack theRipper. Jack Miller ranks up there with them.

There was never any mention of how I had hurt Jack Miller or any mention of my safetypins. I do know that I did some heavy duty damage to that animal's ear and eye. I had hoped thatI made him deaf or blind, but I didn't. I did damage his vision, but unfortunately he was stillable to see. When I saw him years later I saw the blood-filled eye where I had stabbed him. Andthat blood-filled eye eventually became the downfall of Jack Miller. Sometimes I think of myreaction to that man and I can't help thinking I was striking back at all the men who raped mewhen I was a child prostitute. I didn't fight back then. I couldn't. I had to cooperate to get paid. IfI could have, I would have done the same thing to those men in those dark cars in that alley. Ialways say that I was raped by the men who had me when I was a prostitute, but I wasn'tviolently raped like Sarah was. What happened to her was a million times worse than whathappened to me.

Anyhow that was my life with Sarah until September 6, 1970 when Dr. Warner visitedSarah at Southern State School for the Feebleminded.