The Groping Incident

Introduction

In recent years I have finally mentioned the rape I experienced more than 30 years ago.  Now, with  current news snippets tossing out the many instances of Mr. Trump’s abuse of women, The Groping Incident has found its way to the forefront of my thinking.  While there was more than one groping incident, the one of which I write here was for me the most foul.  It threw me totally off guard and left me speechless and feeling worthless, insignificant ... and filthy.  

The Groping Incident

There was a time, decades ago, that I regularly baked.  A lot.  And my favorite baked good was a chocolate chip cookie, made in an 8-inch pie pan.   The recipe was mine and to this day, still my favorite.   I baked these huge cookies and folks practically inhaled them.  It was not unusual for people to make cookie requests, and I responded by delivering a freshly baked 8-inch chocolate chip cookie.

When an associate minister of a more-than-century-old-church, a man old enough to be my father, asked me to bring him a cookie, I thought nothing of it.  The following week I presented him with a cookie – wrapped in foil, still warm from the oven, having been baked that morning.   As he reached for it with one hand, with his other hand he cupped my left breast.  And squeezed.   I was shocked speechless, and he walked away without a word.   I wanted to run away, and could not.  It was shortly before 11:00 a.m. and I was due to play for the 11:00 o’clock worship service.   I entered the sanctuary, sat at the piano, and felt as if every pair of eyes in the sanctuary were settled on me, accusingly, as if I had committed some atrocity.  Haunted by the unanswered question “what did I do to deserve that,” I have no memory of what hymns were sung, what special music the choir sang, or the text of the sermon delivered that day.   The one thing I do remember, however, is that the old guy was not there in his usual seat.