Raising Cane
By Rob Perez
Isle diocese shows
little compassionIf Lynne Jensen had accused a Catholic priest on the mainland of sexually molesting her when she was a child, church officials likely would have investigated the charge no matter how far back the alleged incidents occurred.
At many dioceses, they would have immediately offered her counseling, even before launching an investigation.
But not in Hawaii.
Unfortunately for Jensen, who says a now-retired Hawaii priest sexually abused her about 25 years ago when she was 6 or 7 and living in Kahaluu, the Roman Catholic Church here seems more guided by legal interests than moral or pastoral ones, showing little compassion for people who may have been violated long ago by men of the cloth.
The church essentially dismissed Jensen's complaint -- first reported to the Honolulu diocese in October and detailed in a Raising Cane column last month -- and explained that the allegations were too old for the church to investigate, happened during a previous bishop's administration and that the credibility of any findings would be questioned given "the present climate surrounding this issue."
The church also told Jensen the conduct she alleged never was approved by the church, it was not liable for her alleged injuries and that the statute of limitations barred any claims in connection with such injuries.
Since then, a separate case involving alleged abuses of a minor in the 1960s by another Hawaii priest has come to light, and the church once again has raised the specter of the statute of limitations, among other possible defenses.
The church in Hawaii "will not waive the statute of limitations with respect to any matters discussed by you in your various letters," attorney Robert Bruce Graham Jr. wrote to the California man and former Hawaii resident in an October letter.
"Your request for compensation is denied," Graham wrote. "The church is not liable to you for any of the injuries you allege."
The 51-year-old man, who has written letters to the Honolulu diocese over the past year detailing the alleged abuses but without naming the priest, said he was stunned by the diocese's lack of compassion.
"l feel abused again," the man said, asking that his name not be used. "Basically, they're ignoring me, using the statute of limitations."
Patrick Downes, a spokesman for the Honolulu diocese, said the diocese considers the circumstances of each case and responds accordingly.
"The diocese right now is comfortable with the decisions it has made in all these cases," Downes said.
Partly contradicting what he said last month, Downes said the diocese conducted an internal review of Jensen's allegations. The review concluded that her charges weren't credible, Downes said, but he refused to provide any details or say how the church reached its conclusion.
"We have absolutely no evidence that the allegations are true," he said, adding that the diocese has information indicating the charges may be false.
Yet the church didn't speak to Jensen, her therapist, her mother or a childhood friend she confided in nearly 20 years ago about the allegations -- all people whom the Star-Bulletin interviewed and whom verified aspects of Jensen's story.
The church didn't even refer Jensen's allegations to an internal committee of priests and lay professionals established specifically to investigate what the church calls "credible" sexual abuse accusations.
The church's internal review determined that Jensen's case didn't warrant going before the committee, Downes said.
When the Star-Bulletin questioned Downes about the Jensen case last month, he never mentioned the review -- an odd omission given that Downes was told the newspaper's research showed Jensen to be credible. Downes last week said he didn't mention the review because he wasn't aware of it at the time.
Regarding the case of the California man, Downes said the diocese would look into his accusations if the man identified the priest.
"The diocese wants him to stand behind the allegations by naming the perpetrator rather than have the diocese guess," Downes said.
But the former altar boy who attended school at St. Theresa's in downtown Honolulu in the 1960s said he provided enough information for the diocese to identify the priest and would've named him had the church indicated it would seriously investigate the matter.
"I have no reason to believe they were going to help me, whether I released the name or not," he said.
In his correspondence to the diocese, the man provided graphic details of the alleged abuses when he was 12 and 13 and said the priest still is assigned to a Hawaii parish. He provided the priest's name to the Star-Bulletin, but the newspaper isn't naming him because, like with the Jensen case, he wasn't charged.
Unlike the Honolulu diocese, many mainland ones launch formal investigations without first considering the age of the alleged incidents.
"It doesn't matter if it happens 25, 30, 40 years ago," said Jim Dwyer, a spokesman for the Chicago archdiocese.
Unlike the Honolulu diocese, many mainland ones also provide therapy services for alleged victims before investigating their charges.
"First thing we do is offer counseling," said Bud Bunce, spokesman for the archdiocese of Portland, Ore.
The Chicago archdiocese will offer counseling immediately, and if the alleged victim no longer lives in the area, the archdiocese will arrange to pay for therapy where the person lives, Dwyer said.
The idea is that these kind of charges are so serious that, if true, the person was violated in a terrible way and is in need of professional help and, if false, the person is suffering from something else but still needs help, Dwyer said.
"In either case, it's someone who really feels wronged, and we want to help in a nonjudgmental way," he said.
In neither of the Honolulu cases has the diocese offered counseling of any kind.
Jensen, who started seeing a therapist in October because of the abuse she allegedly suffered, asked the diocese to cover her therapy bills. The amount: $440 a month.
"I'm not some charlatan looking to make a quick buck," Jensen said.
Her request was rejected in a terse three-paragraph letter she received in November from Graham.
In the mid-1990s, however, the diocese paid roughly $9,000 to cover medical insurance and counseling for an alleged victim of sex abuse by a priest. Downes wouldn't say how that case was different from Jensen's.
The diocese told the Star-Bulletin last month that any investigation of Jensen's allegations should be done independently by proper legal and judicial authorities and that she was free to initiate such a process.
But when Jensen consulted prosecutors here she was told Hawaii's criminal statute of limitations in such sex abuse cases has long since lapsed. And more recently, she was told by a Honolulu attorney that the civil statue of limitations likewise has lapsed, leaving her no legal recourse against the church.
Jensen, now 33, didn't contact the church about the allegations until last year because she believed she had been able to successfully cope with what had happened. Now she's seeing a therapist once a week.
Advocates for sexual abuse victims of the clergy say they are appalled at how the Hawaii church is handling allegations of long-ago abuses.
"Even some of the most antagonistic of dioceses at least offer counseling," said Terrie Light, an advocate in California. "What's happening in Hawaii is worse than horrible. It's sinful."
Star-Bulletin columnist Rob Perez writes on issues
and events affecting Hawaii. Fax 529-4750, or write to
Honolulu Star-Bulletin, 500 Ala Moana Blvd., No. 7-210,
Honolulu 96813. He can also be reached
by e-mail at: rperez@starbulletin.com.
