After years of vowing to see a Penn State game, Will and I finally saw our first one this year, making the four-hour road trip to Happy Valley with friends from Pennsylvania to witness one of the wildest spectacles in college football. The day they beat Iowa, there were 103,000 people in the stands. Imagine the hearts of that many people practically beating as one, and I am not exaggerating. The school spirit in that stadium could move mountains. It was an unforgettable experience, and now, even more so, since it turned out to be one of the very last games played under Joe Paterno.
But no matter how entertaining, no matter how many millions of dollars it may bring in, no game should be above the well-being of a child. It is a concept so simple that it boggles the mind that so many people over so much time turned a blind eye and deaf ear to the alleged sexual abuse of children by Jerry Sandusky. I am reminded of the three monkeys with their hands covering their eyes, ears and mouths — see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. When good people stand by and do nothing in the face of evil, that is when society has failed in its most fundamental responsibilities.
The scandal has provided weeks of fuel for the television pundits. One suggestion brought up on the morning talk shows is to shut down the Penn State football program for a period of time. The allegations of sexual abuse that took place under the banner of football are horrific, but it would be wrong to punish another group of innocent young people. The current football players and students had nothing to do with the behavior perpetrated and condoned for years at their school. So why should they have to bear the burden, especially the athletes who have dedicated themselves to training and playing their best? The better solution would be to collect all of the money pulled in by Penn State football and donate it to organizations dedicated to improving the lives of underprivileged children.
This is a story that makes you question the nature of human behavior and how the well-being of children could be sacrificed to a game. Much has been made about the failure of the chain of command to communicate. But even more astounding is the failure of grown men to act. Though he is now claiming that he did notify police, the story has been that an up-and-coming and ambitious young coach witnessed Sandusky’s rape of a 10-year-old boy in the locker room showers and instead of intervening, told his own father that night. They did not report it to anyone else until the next day and even then, there was no action taken.
As the kids would say, FAIL! Not reporting is one thing. But not stepping in and rescuing that little boy and calling 911? Let’s put it this way. If I had been in that locker room that day I would have jumped into the showers, pulled that little boy out of the clutches of the real life bogeyman, and then punched out the lights on the man myself and given his nether regions a good pounding too. And then I immediately would have dialed 911, made sure the victim received medical attention and that his parents were notified, and then followed up to make sure that justice was done. I think most people would have felt compelled to do the same, so this is where the whole thing breaks down into what feels very much like the Twilight Zone.
That young graduate assistant, McQueary: Did he adhere to the code of silence because of some unspoken — or perhaps spoken — quid pro quo: keep your mouth shut and ye shall be rewarded?
I will never forget the time when my own children were small and we were in the parking lot of the Quakerbridge Mall, and we heard a child crying and screaming. A large man was hitting a small boy of about 6 or 7, just whaling on him and heaping physical and verbal abuse. I immediately dialed 911 and reported what I was seeing. If I didn’t have my kids with me, I probably would have confronted the man myself. I got close enough to get the license plate on the abuser’s car and I stayed on the scene until the police got there. By that time, the man had hauled the child into his car and was speeding away, but the police were able to follow him.
Wouldn’t it be instinctive to rush to the aid of a child in trouble? Not just as a parent, but as a human being? Didn’t McQueary have a sense not of what the rules of the school told him he should do, but what the laws of God and morality dictated? Shockingly, it appears that he is not the only one who stood by in silence for years while witnessing other horrific episodes of child abuse.
There is something compelling about the sport of football and the grip that it has on this country, and not to be sexist, but especially how it can mesmerize men. It might have something to do with an atavistic desire to see the most powerful members of the species vying for tribal supremacy. Reminiscent of the gladiator battles in the ancient Roman Coliseum, these weekly warrior showdowns represent a complicated calculus. Multiply mass by speed with large amounts of personal charisma, add in variables that include team spirit, regional loyalties, booster pride, and millions of dollars and you’ve got a formula for great entertainment.
But in this case, that equation added up to a brotherhood of silence that resulted in atrocities against the innocent and brought down a living legend and one of the greatest football legacies in history.
