Multiple Missing Childhoods

MULTIPLE MISSING CHILDHOODS

I don’t remember …
I know from my early diary entries
and photographs viewed …
I know through media of the time
(newspaper articles and radio broadcasts) …

The disappearance of the Beaumont children from the Glenelg Beach was broadcast on
25 January 1966. The abduction was a constant reminder that those responsible were still at large and feared I would become another vulnerable victim. My eldest sister supervised her five younger siblings while our parents worked full-time. We would walk from Glenelg Migrant Hostel to Glenelg Beach.

A corrugated iron shed stood opposite the carport of my childhood home. I’m trying to remember … that image of the shed is so ominous. A nod of the head from my abuser (with a lecherous look in his eyes) was given to me as a sign to go to that shed for his sexual pleasure. The silent radio sitting on the shelf did not hear my muffed cry for help.

The bathroom is probably the most vivid memory I have of the house. The open window offered an unobstructed view for anyone lurking outside. Total exposure. His demand to enter the bathroom was quiet – yet deafening to me. I felt alone and unprotected especially when the locked door opened for further sexual abuse.

To study in the dining room was unfeasible so I retreated to my bedroom but this was made more difficult by my rising anxiety. I felt defeated by fear, listening for footsteps and repeating the words “keep walking – please keep walking …”

At times I wished I could have disappeared like the Beaumont children. It was the only escape I could imagine from the distressing lived experience of my daily abused life.

Many parents changed the daily supervision of their children following the kidnapping of the Beaumont children. Unfortunately, the kidnapping of my innocence, resulted in the memory loss of my childhood and beyond. My parents continued to neglect and abuse.

The Australian public offered considerable sympathy to the Beaumont parents. Computer-generated photographs were printed (against their wishes) showing how the Beaumont children would look as adults. Public sympathy was felt throughout the community. There was no sympathy expressed for me; only personal accusations and total disbelief of my factual life story. Photographs depicting me as happy, confused and/or sad help me to piece together an image of my true life story but I have no clear memories to call to mind. My perpetual, primary pain remains constant.

After many decades the Beaumont case remains one of Australia’s most infamous cold cases.
Even after many decades my individual case remains cold as my abuser/s have never been officially reported to authorities by me; thereby avoiding conviction and punishment. It was impossible to speak about the trauma and life-threatening abuse at the time as the primal need to survive was paramount. My abuser/s were never acknowledged, held responsible, found guilty or punished. The Criminal Justice system do not seem to understand how traumatic experiences inject severe fear and subsequently affect memory.

The story of the Beaumont children’s disappearance is still not resolved and remains one of South Australia’s most perplexing mysteries.

I try to discover and explain the truth of my youth and beyond, by accessing inner thoughts and hidden memories only coming into focus many, many years following dissociated (consciously unavailable) indescribable incidents during my childhood. The disappearance of my many detached memories remains an associative mystery.

Empowered through writing, I visualize delving further into my internal memories of neglect and physical and sexual abuse. I want to inspire other abused victims to come forward, as I did not have the information, courage or opportunity to do so, at the time. I encourage you to access the support you need to share your individual traumatic experiences in a way that feels safe and healing for you – so that we can all come together out of the shadows to throw off the cloak of shame.

Let your recently discovered, significant, powerful voice be heard – allowing that long ago, frightened silent voice the opportunity to speak up.

Calling to mind multiple missing childhoods.