JOANNE MORIN CORREIA

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As a child in the 60s, my best friend Stephen was molested by our guitar teacher on Main Street in Enfield. Ct. When they tried to get me to join them, I ran out of the Music Store and hid in the Catholic church across the street. I feared what I had witnessed, and I did not understand what was happening to my best friend. I told no one to move to a different school away from Stephen at the end of the school year. We did not talk about those things back in the day. 

The lead singer asked me on stage to dance several times during the week, and I saw him a few times around the apt. On the final night, he asked me if I would like a tour of the island before I flew home and if I wanted to see other apartments in case I wanted to return. I said yes. 

At his apartment, there were several men, and he pushed me into a bedroom, where there were several knives on the table. He raped me as I pretended to cooperate (I worked for Plan Parenthood, and we were told rapists usually do not murder their victims). Then he brought me to the airport, and I made it to my plane to return to Boston. He called me a few years later for a date. 

I was at an IBM event in San Francisco at a "closed" mall with a fantastic band; my male business partner, John, did not want to stay. I told him to leave, and I would taxi back and meet him in the morning. 

In less than an hour, I felt like I was going to black out, so I said to the person I was hanging with, I do not feel right, and I headed to the ladies' room. 

I blacked out before I was able to close the stall door and woke up @30 minutes later; I was date drugged. The ladies helped me get a taxi, and I returned safely to the hotel.