Silent No More

by Aaron Fisher

  The press and all media were in full swing, and suddenly countless media showed up at my private office—not the one at CYS. I don’t know how they found me but they arrived in droves. Networks, cable news, ESPN, and print media. They waited for me outside in the street and some even camped out in my waiting room. I didn’t avoid them. I simply told them that I wasn’t at liberty to discuss the case.

  All hell was breaking loose at Penn State, and then it literally hit too close to home when the press showed up at my house. My wife and kids were frightened—not so much by the reporters at our home but by the knowledge that Sandusky supporters were out there along with people who were angry that Paterno was a casualty of all this. I couldn’t discuss the case with anyone until the arrest was made—as I said before, not even my wife knew anything other than I had a big case and it involved abuse by a celebrity perpetrator. Now that the news broke, and as this domino effect was happening at Penn State, its administration unraveling, my wife and kids knew that I was in the thick of it.

  Then things really started to get out of hand. The press was one thing, but when people who were just Penn State fans started to call me and make threats, I got worried. It was so bad that even my ex-wife was concerned about me. It got personal, too. Everyone I knew—family, friends, colleagues, neighbors—was a huge Penn State fan. I had always considered myself casually included among them; now I felt like an outsider.

  A lot of my friends and family didn’t believe that something like this could be true about either Sandusky or, to a greater extent, Paterno and Penn State. Friends and family were trying to be supportive of me, but mostly they were just in disbelief and mourning the accusations against Penn State. Even my colleagues were angry with me. They were polite but offered little support and wanted little if any dialogue with me. Core people supported me in the psychological organization in Pennsylvania and the people at CYS were there for me, but there were too many other colleagues who stayed neutral or stayed away. There was an ominous silence. How could people lose sight of what happened to these kids? Paterno was a legend and I never before realized how intensely people lived and breathed Penn State and football.

  While all this was happening, the circumstances around Gricar’s disappearance were revealed in the media and spawned questions about Jerry Sandusky. Anthony De Boef, who had worked with Gricar for five years as an assistant district attorney, said that although Gricar didn’t share any information with him, Gricar was investigating a 1998 child sexual abuse case. Gricar was meticulous and had a reputation for not pandering to those in positions of political, social, or academic power. Presumably, Gricar had notes and/or recordings of two conversations between Sandusky and the victim’s mother. The boy told his mother that Sandusky had showered with him naked. When the mother confronted Sandusky, he begged for forgiveness. What Sandusky didn’t know was that Gricar had set up a sting in the eleven-year-old’s house as Sandusky confessed and asked for absolution. Sounded to me like Gricar had him. Ultimately, Gricar dropped the case.

  When I first read the story about Gricar that night after the first grand jury, there was no connection to Sandusky. He was just a guy like me who liked to drive, to go antiquing, and was described as a prosecutor who refused to bow to anyone. Now, as I learned more about Gricar and his connections to Sandusky, and then as the media somehow found my home and private office after Sandusky’s arrest, I was concerned. Not to mention that a friend of mine called to warn me about a conversation he overheard when he was on the Penn State campus. A group of businessmen, clearly stating my name, said there were people who wanted me dead. I never hunted, but I always liked target shooting, so I can aim. I got a carry permit and bought a handgun. One night I was leaving my office and headed to my car. It was the only one left in the lot. This scraggy-looking guy appeared out of nowhere from a dark corner and came up to me. I drew my gun and he ran. I still don’t know who he was. Maybe he was just drunk or stoned, but I felt threatened. When I pulled out the gun, he went the other way fast. It’s a burden to carry a firearm. You have to think carefully and twice when you draw. The problem was that after Sandusky’s arrest, I felt like the target.

  Aaron

  WHEN THE NEWS STARTED BREAKING AFTER JERRY WAS ARRESTED, I withdrew from a lot of people. It was hard being around the kids at school who were talking about what was going on. A lot of them said that someone was just making up stories because they wanted money. I tried to act real casual and say, “Yeah, right,” like I wasn’t the outsider that I felt I was. Somehow I’d just sneak away and let them go on talking.

  There was a story in The New York Times that gave everything but my name. The reporter said that the kid who was now called Victim 1 ran on the track team at Central Mountain High and lived in a public housing complex in Lock Haven. It also said the kid had no father, had two siblings, and had gone to the Second Mile. The reporter even spoke to one of our neighbors, who said I was wearing fancy designer clothes at one point, and then he said that one day he heard me screaming that I didn’t want to go with Jerry. None of that was true, and when the guy mentioned my school and the track team, kids started giving me a real hard time. Even though I said it wasn’t me, they knew, and I was afraid of some of them because they were threatening to beat me up.

  The track team stuck by me, though. I did have friends that I could have confided in on the team, but I didn’t like talking about it to people. The guys and girls on my distance team, they all knew. They figured it out but also there came a point when I was giving some clues. It was getting tough to hold it inside. They knew but they didn’t tell a soul and were loyal to me. They asked if I wanted to talk and said they’d listen to me any time. When I said that I didn’t want to, they let it be and respected my wishes.

  In January, I changed schools. Mom got me into a charter school that was farther away and we made a deal with them that any student who harassed me would be expelled; also, I could still run track for Central Mountain High.

  I didn’t want to be known as a victim, because I wasn’t one anymore.

  27

  Enter Joe McGettigan

  Mike

  IT WAS HARD TO BELIEVE THAT IT HAD BEEN THREE YEARS SINCE that scared boy from Central Mountain High walked into my office. On one hand, it seemed like yesterday, and on the other, it seemed like forever. Although I always felt there were others abused by Sandusky, I never imagined the magnitude of this. In my wildest dreams, I never thought this would evolve into the biggest scandal in the history of sports. All I knew was that Aaron wasn’t the only one.

  Shortly after the arrest, there was a shakeup behind the scenes when Kelly pulled Jonelle off as lead prosecutor and put in a guy named Joe McGettigan. I had put it out there to Kelly that Aaron thought being questioned by a man was more comfortable, and my guess was that the other victims might feel the same way. When Jonelle questioned Aaron during the grand jury proceedings, things didn’t go especially well. I’m not sure of all Kelly’s reasons behind the change but I gave her my input before it happened.

  In early December 2011, Sandusky faced additional charges. Although his arrest the month before was based upon forty counts of sexual abuse, brought forth by eight accusers, two more victims had come forward. The latest victims testified before a grand jury that they had been raped and molested by Sandusky.

  Sandusky was taken from his home to the Bellefonte Courthouse and bail was now set at $250,000. Prosecutors asked for $1 million bail. Even though the attorney general’s office didn’t get the higher bail, the terms differed now. The last bail was unsecured, but this time even if Sandusky was able to post bail, he would be subject to house arrest and would have to wear an electronic ankle monitor. It was also stated that he could have no contact with witnesses, his accusers—or any minors. Sandusky was now definitely viewed as a flight risk.

  Sandusky made bail the following day. According to the press, he gathered the bail money by using $200,000 in real estate holdings and a certified check for $5
0,000 from Dottie. The blogs were changing. People were wondering if Sandusky was getting financial assistance from some “higher-ups,” and people were questioning the depths of Sandusky’s pockets. Although they maintained their loyalty to JoePa, they were coming to realize that the ten victims who came forward had strength in truth and numbers. There weren’t many who questioned whether Sandusky was a true serial pedophile. But there were still thousands who felt that Paterno was beloved and wronged.

  Sandusky’s preliminary hearing was on December 13. A judge was brought in from western Pennsylvania to ensure objectivity, even though the trial venue remained in the town of Bellefonte, in Centre County. The town closed off the downtown square where the old stone courthouse stood. Armed police lined the streets and took positions on rooftops. The media presence was enormous, with hundreds of cars and vans and reporters.

  I’d prepared Aaron for the preliminary hearing, knowing that it wouldn’t be too much different from the trial itself. Aaron was totally psyched and ready to go, even though he was still upset when he thought that he’d have to tell his story once again, and then yet again at the trial. There was a big buildup for this hearing and then boom!

  Joe McGettigan said, “Yes, my victims are here and they’re ready to testify, Your Honor.”

  Amendola approached the bench and said, “We’re going to waive the hearing.”

  It was all a game. For sure, the renunciation of the hearing was strategic. Amendola was probably banking that the victims were too shaken up and anxious to testify against Sandusky. The big question in everyone’s mind was whether or not Aaron was going to show up and testify, and now there was also Witness 2, who had suffered substantial abuse over a long period of time. These boys were the two main witnesses against Sandusky, and Sandusky and Amendola were expecting that these kids wouldn’t be able to hold up and would just crumble. When they heard that the witnesses were there and ready to go, Amendola waived the hearing. In addition, the prosecution had testimony from the mother of yet a third victim stating that Sandusky had pleaded with her son not to testify. This was not the boy from the infamous shower scene, whose identity was unknown at the time, but yet another boy who claimed to have been raped in the shower by Sandusky. Amendola saw that the cards were stacked against them.

  There was talk that maybe Amendola and the attorney general were working on a plea deal behind the scenes. It was also conjectured that they waived the hearing because it was a way for Sandusky to see his accusers and then for Amendola to build his defense. Sandusky still maintained that all the boys, now men, were liars. Aaron, like the other victims, felt that this was just Sandusky screwing with them again. Really, the young men were the ones who stood up to Sandusky. It was a challenge to get Aaron to realize that at the time.

  When Sandusky left the courthouse that day with his wife and a few of his kids, he addressed the press and restated his innocence. Using a football metaphor he said, “We’re going to stay the course and fight this for all four quarters.” Amendola addressed the press and contended that the alleged victims were frauds and just out for money.

  Sandusky also waived an arraignment scheduled for January and another preliminary hearing in May 2012. Again it was a question of time just dragging on and on. Except for the fact that Sandusky was arrested and removed from the population, things were still not moving fast enough for me or Dawn and Aaron. The delay was a silver lining, though, since Aaron got to know McGettigan—and McGettigan got to know him and the other victims as well.

  Aaron and I met again with McGettigan at the attorney general’s secret office in Centre County, which now felt even closer to the Penn State campus in State College. It was quite a scene in that unassuming building. There’s a drug task force housed in there, so the place is filled with undercover police and undercover narcotics detectives who look all scruffy, but they’re cops. It was like another scene out of a movie.

  Joe McGettigan is quite a character. He could have starred in Men in Black. He’s got smooth white hair and wears signature black sunglasses. When he’s not in court, he wears jeans, a pink polo shirt, and sneakers. He’s sixty-two, six feet tall, extremely fit—and he smokes. He’s the picture of the top gun, and he is one. He’s the one who prosecutes multiple murders and awful abuse cases. He was even a volunteer over in Iraq, helping them to establish a justice system. That’s the kind of guy Joe is. He used to be a district attorney in Philadelphia. When you get right down to it, he’s tough as nails when it comes to getting justice, but he’s also just a regular guy and so humane.

  When Aaron first met Joe, he was somewhat intimidated, but then Joe put him at ease. It wasn’t so much that Joe intimidated Aaron; it was that he was yet another new guy on the case. After Rossman faded from the picture, there was another trooper named Liter who stepped in briefly. Tony Sassano often accompanied Liter when they would show Aaron a picture of a boy to see if Aaron could make an identification. There were a couple of boys whom Aaron recognized—one kid who hung out with Sandusky and another whom Aaron knew from the Second Mile. The one from the Second Mile was with Sandusky and Aaron at a hotel swimming pool near State College.

  It didn’t take long for Joe to put Aaron at ease. He was personable, kind, and gracious. One time, he did get on Aaron’s case because he was chewing tobacco. At the time, Joe was smoking a cigarette but he said that Aaron was young and an athlete and he should quit now.

  When Joe was first getting to know Aaron, he tried to get him to respond to his questions without being intrusive. He kept apologizing and starting every session we had by saying, “I wish I didn’t have to ask you this but …” Then he’d read back Aaron’s grand jury testimony and say, “These are absolutely your words, right?” Joe didn’t want any inconsistencies or slip-ups. He told Aaron that he wanted Aaron to be 100 percent comfortable with his testimony, and that was when Aaron visibly relaxed. There was a trust between the two of them that was crucial.

  Aaron wasn’t the only boy Joe talked with during the pretrial period. He interviewed and met with all the other victims as well. One time when Joe and I were alone together, just standing out in the parking lot and talking, Joe confessed that this Sandusky case made him sick. He said that there was one victim who was particularly troubled and Joe wanted to bounce some things off me and make sure that he was handling him correctly from a psychological point of view, since I had been counseling Aaron for so many years now. He also wanted to know a little more about Aaron and I gave him an overview. One day, after hours of talking about the profiles of the victims, we took a walk. I’ll never forget what Joe said that day.

  “Jerry Sandusky is one sick son of a bitch.”

  He went on to say that based upon the visuals of all the victims, Sandusky had a definite type. Joe called them “all those poor little kids” and remarked how their photographs from younger days showed that they were all slight, and many of them were blond and delicate boys—not only in stature but because they were from homes that were broken as well.

  Joe was fearless when it came to prosecuting the case, but when it came to the boys themselves, he was worried about them on a human level. As a group, none of them had told anyone before what happened to them with Sandusky. They’d kept it all inside for years. When the police unearthed them, they were reluctant to come forward. Joe said that as a group they had addictions, relationship problems, anxiety, and brushes with the law. He was relieved that none of them was an abuser of children. He said that in all his life he had never met a group of people who had endured so much damage. I offered to see all of the young men for free on an ongoing basis. Only one came in.

  28

  Getting Ready to Go

  Aaron

  IT WAS SEVEN MONTHS FROM THE TIME OF JERRY’S ARREST TO HIS trial in June 2012. In that time, I had a lot of random emotions hitting me at once. I was happy, upset, anxious. Most of all, I was anxious. I knew the trial meant more testimony from me in front of a new group of strangers. I told myself that I�
�d testified three times before, so this time it should be easier. The problem was, I still couldn’t get past the part of me that worried nobody would believe me. I was also afraid that I would either freeze up when I took the stand or collapse the way I had before. I felt like I was on a roller coaster. The one thing that settled me down was that I knew I wasn’t alone this time. There would be other guys there who were Jerry’s victims.

  Victim. I had a problem with that word.

  Another thing bothered me: In the days before the trial, the news was still so much about Joe Paterno. He had died six months before, but everyone was still upset and angry that he had been fired. People were angry because he had such an amazing career and then it was taken from him so quickly and right before he died. At one time, Paterno was someone I admired, too. I even met him a couple of times when I was at the Second Mile and on the campus. He was a legend and, like a lot of people, I had put him on a high pedestal. When he fell off that pedestal, a part of me felt that I had started it all. But then I told myself that I was the first one to say something, and there were the others who might have stayed in hiding if it hadn’t been for me coming forward. Mike said I should think of myself as a hero and not a victim. And even though I thought, Wow, it’s true—maybe I just saved a bunch of kids who could have been future victims, and even though yes, I felt good about myself, when Paterno got fired I wasn’t happy. I didn’t feel like a hero. I liked Penn State football and I liked Paterno as a coach. But at the same time, it really threw me to think that he could have done something to stop what Jerry was doing years ago.

  By the time the trial came around, I knew that a lot of people had been aware all along of what Jerry was doing and had done nothing to stop him. Like people at the Second Mile—maybe some of them weren’t exactly aware of what was going on with Jerry, but I was certain that many of them knew something. I was also sure that many of them were suspicious and looked the other way. It made me angry. How could they not have said something to someone? If they even suspected something that was going on with just one kid, how could they pretend not to see, or erase in their minds what they knew existed?