My Truth
“Leave safety behind. Put your body on the line. Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind – even if your voice shakes. When you least expect it, someone may actually listen to what you have to say. Well-aimed slingshots can topple giants. And do your homework.”
Leaving Safety Behind
“Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind - even if your voice shakes.”
That is fucking hard. I was fortunate because, by the time I did speak my mind, I knew I had an army of believers and heroes behind me, even when I was alone.
There’s a lot of baggage with terms like “abuse”, and “victim” and “survivor”. It’s a serious subject. It’s not for everyone. It’s a real downer at a party. People don’t know how to react or what to say, even though the subjects have become more mainstream.
I feel, by doing something ABOUT it, doing MY work, and then doing something WITH it, such as sharing it for OTHER survivors to glean what they can from it, that I am more likely to find understanding, share that understanding, and form a growing posse of allies that can help shut this kind of shit down.
Just the Facts, Ma’am
I’m still very matter-of-fact and mechanical when I describe my story. It is easier to stay detached from the details and mental images, without reliving it every time I tell it. And it is still embarrassing. But being the author of my story gives me power. For once, I feel a sense of control.
I hope this and all these ramblings help other survivors to find courage to tell their own story. To some, telling your story might mean shouting from the rooftops. To others, it might mean simply telling yourself that you are ok, just so you can get by. Either way, I hope you can LIVE.
The Abuse
I was sexually abused by David Ripley, an interior decorator with Beacon Hill Design, hired to do renovations around our family home in Nova Scotia and at our cottage in Prince Edward Island, two provinces on Canada’s east coast.
I was about ten when the abuse started and about thirteen when it stopped, roughly between 1978 and 1980, and between both Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island during those years.
I was extremely confused when it first happened in Prince Edward Island. Not knowing what it meant, I got a little guarded, thinking it was only an exception. After all, he was a grown-up.
Later, in Nova Scotia he would sometimes stay at our home rather than drive home, and was put up in my room, which had two twin beds from when my older brothers once shared the room. And the abuse continued. I started avoiding him: sleeping with headphones on, pulling away, inviting friends over so my friends and I could sleep downstairs in the rec room. Most of the time it didn’t work, and I endured the abuse. I felt trapped. I didn’t realize until much later these were forms of resistance, but only to the limits of my perceived safety at the time.
When I finally had the nerve to tell my best friend what was going on - I was so mortified and embarrassed, even with him - he said if I didn’t tell my mother, he would, because it had to stop.
The author circa 1978
It took me many years to remember and rediscover that hero in my life who threatened to stand up FOR me. I believe I only thanked my friend once in the past 40 years. I believe - I hope - he knows that I will always love him for saving my life.
Pulling the Sword from the Stone
Armed with a friend/sword, and knowing David Ripley was coming to town that night, I bit the bullet of shame, and skulked in to tell my mother what was happening to me.
I was completely mortified again. She was gob-smacked. And then she clicked into Mama Bear mode, telling me not to worry. I had invited another friend over that night, so she sent us off to do friend things. I was just relieved that I was believed, that I didn’t get in trouble, I didn’t get blamed, and that I didn’t get kicked out of the house: all things I thought would happen.
The author circa 1981
My mother turned into my second cape-less superhero that night, apparently waiting on the front steps until David Ripley drove up. According to her testimony (spoiler alert), she proceeded to verbally tear that motherfucker a new asshole. I am paraphrasing. We never really saw David Ripley again until the trial. Fine by me.
Increasing Despair
Soon after the abuse stopped, I was left to my own devices to process it all. There wasn’t therapy back then. No one talked about mental health. Pedophiles were figuratively driven to the edge of town and told to move along. I went into my adolescence and teen years just a little fucked up. Just doing the Fantasy Island thing: ‘Smiles, everybody! Smiles!”
It was only recently that my mother recalled to me that, in the days after I told her, she had wanted to run screaming through the halls of the high school to warn the teachers and kids about the monsters out there. It took a toll on her - all the guilt she took on needlessly - and for that I was also so very, very angry. Nobody fucks with my mother.
Meanwhile, inside, I still felt dirty and ashamed. I felt broken, abnormal, and useless. I wanted to die. I think I’ve wanted to die for 40 years, but I can’t even get that commitment down right.
Another spoiler: I survived. In reality, there were mostly good days, lots of shining days, and great things happened, unrelated to the abuse. But when you tell yourself you are useless for 40 years, you believe it. Most times, when I looked back on childhood and what was taken, all I saw were the flames of Mordor surrounding my 10-year-old self. That’s only partially dramatic; the past seemed to only be about the unfinished history of the abuse. Much later in life, narrative therapy helped me rediscover and mentally rewrite that it was hell, but it wasn’t a 24-7 hell. More like a huge mental purgatory that I allowed to drag down so many parts of my adult life.
But in the in-between years, people would never know day-to-day what was going on inside my head. Sometimes I didn’t either. And I swore no one would ever know. I internalized everything, put the stories and voices in my head on repeat, and let it cook for 25 years.
Trying to Find Some Peace
By 2004 and 2005, around the time of the birth of my son, the past kept bubbling up more and more, and my state of mind started to deteriorate. I talk about this a bit in my therapy post.
I did a handful of general therapy sessions with a shrink. Semi-coincidentally, my boss at the time recommended Dale Carnegie’s 12-week Human Relations and Communications course as revelatory, and to gain more confidence.
The bubbling continued unabated. To try to feel better, I participated in three, 12-week-cycles of two-and-a-half-hour sessions of group therapy specifically for adult male survivors of sexual abuse, in Vancouver. If you are good at math, yes, that was almost 100 fucking hours with 5 or 6 other men doing soul-ripping, band-aid-pulling, mind work.
No one other than my spouse knew what I was up to. Between her, Mr. Carnegie, and the Group, they also all saved my life. I called my mother to let her know what I was doing. She suited up with her superhero outfit, too. It always fit her so nicely.
Reporting the Crime
Near the end of 2008, I emerged from my dark funk enough that I decided to report the crime. I did my research into what the implications were. From dealing with police, to potentially going to court, to actually facing the pedophile, and the possibility of a negative outcome. After all, these are essentially he-said-he-said cases. There are usually no witnesses to these types of crimes.
However, it was the last act that I felt should have been done when I was a child, so it was putting a bow on that. Doing for my 10 year-old self what he deserved. And it was the first act of a grown man trying to stand tall again. Perhaps there was even a chance that it may expose more cases, or prevent new ones.
The calls to my home town police in Nova Scotia and the RCMP in Prince Edward Island were quick and followed by deep sighs. I clearly remember the cold, sunny day I made those calls. It was a mix of relief, anxiety, and anticipation, as I left the rest to the universe.
Making those calls allowed me to say, in a way, “Hey, wheels of justice, I’m doing my part, now you do yours.” Because my anger and guilt were not quite in check, it was also a little bit of schadenfreude at the time, and I was probably thinking, “I hope the wheels of justice are attached to a figurative 18-wheeler, you sick fuck.” A boy can dream!
I let my three brothers and their families know what was going on in case it came up. Six more people threw on their capes and drew their swords in preparation.
Her Majesty v. David A. Ripley
Those wheels started working relatively quickly. As it was my home at the time, I was called to a local police department in British Columbia to be questioned and to give my formal statement. These documents and video were forwarded to the Truro Police detective who handled the case with such integrity, and handled my mother there with such respect. Hero alert.
The detective arrested and charged David Ripley in Nova Scotia in the spring of 2009 under Section 156 - Indecent Assault on a Male and Section 157 - Gross Indecency, the statutes of the law at the time of the abuse. He was released with conditions the same day.
There was a Preliminary Inquiry in Nova Scotia in late 2010, to which I was summoned to testify, to determine if the case should proceed to trial. The judge determined the case was to proceed to trial by Judge alone in February 2011, a session during which my mother and I both testified.
This was one of the weirdest experiences in my life. Powerful, yet draining. The last push in seeking justice, not knowing where it would end up. And my mom powered through, with her stress and worries. Did I mention she’s was a badass superhero?
“The truth will set you free - but first it will piss you off”
David Ripley was convicted on both counts in June 2011 and sentenced shortly after, which included his addition to the National Sex Offenders Registry.
David Ripley immediately appealed. The appeal was heard, and dismissed, by the Supreme Court of Nova Scotia in January 2012.
The PEI Preliminary Inquiry & Stay of Proceedings
After the Nova Scotia case concluded, David Ripley was then charged in Prince Edward Island in 2011 with the same offenses. The case went to a Preliminary Inquiry in February 2012, to which I was summoned to testify, to see if it could proceed. It was determined it would be able to proceed.
However, with the ill health of my mother, a witness in the case, the Crown Attorney in PEI decided to Stay the Proceedings in November 2012. There would be no trial in PEI. Given that David Ripley was already convicted, sentenced in a neighbouring jurisdiction, just hours away, and added to the National Sex Offender Registry, it was felt that that was a good outcome by itself, and spared my mother from going through the draining process again.
My mother passed away two years later in October 2014. When she died, she knew David Ripley had been convicted and sentenced for the crimes in Nova Scotia and she was extremely happy with that outcome. I hope knowing those details gave her some long, overdue peace.
Removing The Publication Ban in R. v. David Ripley
In December 2020, I began an Application to the Nova Scotia courts to remove the publication ban in the case. I wanted to help other survivors by legally sharing my story, because, fun fact, the ban applied to me, too. All participants’ names were abbreviated and any information that might identify the victim of the crimes was redacted. I was unable to speak or write about my own story. I write more on this subject in the publication ban post.
I respect and agree with the intent of blanket publications bans, which is to protect vulnerable children and witnesses, and to encourage confidential reporting. In my case, the conditions for the ban were no longer required. It was a personal choice to apply to have it removed.
The application was successful in July 2021, with a signed court order provided. The removal of the ban now allows me to speak freely about my own story, something I consider a Charter right.
David Ripley continues to operate an interior decorator firm, Beacon Hill Design, in Gaspereau, Nova Scotia.
The Nova Scotia Supreme Court Decisions: R. v. David Ripley
To give you an idea of what form court decisions take, as part of a formal process, I have included them here. These decision documents are not fun to read, but they do outline the nuances of the law and the facts that the judge(s) consider. They might be triggering for fellow survivors: please proceed with caution.
The Nova Scotia Supreme Court decision on the case is here and the Nova Scotia Court of Appeal decision is here.* These versions of the decisions are pre-publication ban removal, so people are identified by initials and a few pieces of info are redacted. The Courts do not retroactively redo, or “un-redact”, Court documents when a publication ban is removed.
The Order to revoke the publication ban is here. The Order is a slightly fuzzy scan to read, so I’ve transcribed it below:
IN THE PROVINCIAL COURT OF
NOVA SCOTIA
Her Majesty the Queen
v.
David A. Ripley
ORDER
(to revoke s. 486.4(1) CC publication ban)
Before the Honorable Judge Alain Begin:
WHEREAS David A. Ripley was convicted on June 9, 2011 of indecent assault and gross indecency against Laurie Kinsman (“Mr. Kinsman”) over the period of June 1, 1978 to December 31, 1980, contrary to sections 156 and 157 of the Criminal Code respectively;
AND WHEREAS a publication ban was ordered by the Truro Provincial Court in 2009 pursuant to s. 486.4(1) of the Criminal Code (the “Publication Ban”);
AND WHEREAS an Application was made by Mr. Kinsman with consent of the prosecutor on July 26, 2021 for a revocation of the Publication Ban;
AND WHEREAS this Honourable Court is satisfied that there have been changes in circumstances sufficient to justify removal of the Publication Ban;
IT IS ORDERED that the Publication Ban in the matter of R v D.A.R. 20011 NSSC 192, affirmed 2012 NSCA 31, be revoked.
DATED at Truro, Nova Scotia, on July 26, 2021
[Signed] The Honourable Judge Alain Begin
[Stamped] Judge Alain J. Begin, Judge of the Provincial Court of Nova Scotia
* The Courts of Nova Scotia’s copyright protection does not apply to publicly released decisions. Their reproduction for non-commercial purposes do not require permission from the Courts. Nevertheless, I gratefully acknowledge the Courts’ objectives and thank them for their transparency by sharing the source database of public decisions here.
Hand in water image by Stormseeker on Unsplash. Nope photo by Daniel Herron on Unsplash
Breaking free from shame’s grip