Gang Rape Leader
James B. Dickinson
aka Jim, JD, or Jimmy
Frat Nickname: “Pimp"
Theta Chi Fraternity
Graduated Georgia Tech 1962
Albany High School 1957 (Georgia)
Currently resides in Greensboro, NC

*******
Approximately 5 years after Dickinson and the others became aware of my Blog, I received the following Cease & Desist Letter from a lawyer representing Jim Dickinson, et al:  (excerpt)
“This letter is to inform you that all your blogs and links must be removed within the next 15 days after receipt of this letter. If you fail to do so, my clients will be seeking action in Federal court, requesting monetary damages and attorney fees. Additionally, they will be contacting the appropriate district attorneys to seek any possible criminal actions.”
In this same letter, the phrase "false and libelous" appears several times, implying that the Blog is a complete fabrication, and that the rapists are actually the "victims".   The lawyer represents only six men, although several more were involved.  Four of his clients are Jim Dickinson, Richard (Ernie) Faulkner, Dennett Hansell, and Randy Pirkle.  I will not name the other two men becauseI believe they were not involved in the most serious of the 3 offenses committed.
My Reply:  (excerpt)
“Demanding my silence is like being raped all over again.  In an attempt to resolve the matter, I am willing to remove the blog.  However, I want something in return, perhaps through a mediator.  I want Jim Dickinson to answer the many questions I’ve been asking him since 2005.  It’s the only way I can let go and begin to heal.  I think I deserve at least that.  I am open to other suggestions.”

I removed the blog as promised … on July 4, 2011.   Three months later, there was still no word from Dickinson or his lawyer regarding my request.    

So here we are again in the same situation we were in 50 years ago, except this time I'm not going anywhere.  They are using the same tactics --  intimidation in numbers -- "6 of them against one of me".  They deny any moral accountability, yet threaten to sue me unless I comply with their demands one-hundred percent.
 
I cannot allow them off the hook that easily, so I am republishing the blog. Maybe a lawsuit in Federal court is the showdown I’ve been waiting for.  Win or lose, ignoring me would no longer be an option.  Dickinson, and those he dragged down with him, would have to face me in a court of law where the proceedings are a matter of public record.  I don't think there's anything else Dickinson can do to hurt me, since I'm way beyond the point of feeling hurt, shamed, or humiliated for something over which I had no control.  Nor am I responsible for the trickle down effects of his actions ... effects which have never been discussed.  Yes, Court may be the only way to go.  

About the blog
Please sift through at your leisure and return often.  My hope is that you’ll walk away with a better understanding of the infinite ploys used to trick women into perilous situations. This blog has generated some horrific stories of rape dating back to the early eighties.  People need to know how prevalent rape was in the sixties as well.  If you work in a college environment in the prevention of sexual violence or in survivor counseling and feel that any part of this material may be usefull, please use/edit in any way you see fit!

Dickinson intentionally planted risky clues, daring anyone to challenge him.  To him it was a game. He was highly intelligent, equally as arrogant, and more dangerous than anyone imagined. During his five years at Georgia Tech, he successfully led various acts of sodomy, rape, and gang rape.

He was a sociopath who derived a perverse pleasure by inflicting physical and emotional pain on unsuspecting women.  The details that follow are not embellished. They are incomplete, because when a person is drugged, chunks of memory are permanently erased.  His first known direct involvement occurred in 1961.  His last known involvement occurred in 1978  as a telephone consultant/advisor.  That's a 17-year span.   The actual number of times he was involved before, during, and after that 17-year span is unknown.  Shocking to me is that in 1978 he had three daughters – one in her teens.

BLOG
(I'm working on clickables)
·        A Glimpse into Hell
·        A Closer Look at Fraternity Gang Rape
·        The Mindset of My Generation
·        Dickinson’s Revelations
·        *** The Gang Rape, May 1962
·        The Morning After
·        Devastating Effects of Gang Rape
·        Blocked Memories
·        Dickinson's Most Compelling Motivation
·        How He Drugged Me
·        Where Are They Now?
·       *** Rape in March 1962
·       *** The Auburn Rape, February 1962
·       On-Going Message to Jim Dickinson

(*** chronologic order reversed -- note dates)


A Glimpse into Hell:
Fraternity gang rape goes back decades, skillfully executed by upperclassmen and alumni -- members of Theta Chi on fraternity row at Georgia Tech where Greek Fraternities were entrenched in secret rituals and tradition. Above all, the Greeks demanded unconditional loyalty from the brotherhood, no matter how egregious the acts of some.

Dehumanizing acts of violence against women were tolerated and kept secret, and even sanctioned, thus empowering a subgroup of rapists to sexually abuse women over and over again without repercussion. Privilege of membership provided an invisible shield of protection, and for some members, it marked the right of entitlement to a woman's body. If she refused, no problem. They knew how to play the game designed to overpower gullible females -- slipping drugs, bullying them into submission, and fraud -- an earned Rite of Passage. The acquaintance rapist’s success depended on the silence of his victim. Repeat offenders were not unusual. Hey, it's all part of the brotherhood; no harm done, she'll get over it.


A Closer Look at Fraternity Gang Rape:
Gang rape is a deeper dimension than acquaintance rape. The dynamics are complicated. Seemingly ordinary men assemble and transform themselves into a pack of animals with a single purpose. Gang rape requires an organizer/facilitator with a tolerance for torture, who enjoys reducing "someone" into "something". He makes no bones about his contempt for women and relates very poorly to them.

The act of gang rape is performed by men and for men to establish and solidify the bonds of brotherhood within a fraternity subgroup. It also mitigates an individual's burden of responsibility for rape. In this particular fraternity, the cycle worked basically as follows:

Twice a year during rush week, a new wide-eyed crop of pledges are recruited. From the pledge group, spawns a subculture who are primed to commit rape. It doesn't just happen. The initiative comes from a minority of seasoned upperclassmen and alumni (yes, alumni) who plant the idea and lead the pledges onward. Pledges who agree to engage in criminal activity are either pressured or willing participants.

Gang rape can occur as a reward to pledges for having survived the grueling hazing indoctrination. Specific terms are used to define each frat man's status within a gang rape.  I was unaware of these status labels until 1978.   (I'll get to those later). Once a gang rape is accomplished, the male bonding is solidified. The torch is then handed down to the next class, thus the cycle continues with each class believing that *they* invented the coup de grace of gang rape. It begs the question: "Can you top what WE did and get away with it?"

I don't know the origin or how many fraternities practiced this tradition, but I believe it continued well into the 1990's and beyond. The undaunted leader of a gang rape achieves instant recognition along with an esteemed position of authority within the subgroup. Insiders jokingly describe him as having good "leadership abilities". I often wonder how many lives were ruined -- young girls drugged and dehumanized just to satisfy a handful of deviant self-proclaimed gentlemen. For men like Dickinson, the motto is "Bros before Hos".

I fell victim to his most heinous crime and quashed the memories for 44 years. He methodically planned my gang rape several days in advance ... my body was invaded and my life derailed. I never mentioned the incident to anyone, nor did I confront Dickinson. Confronting him would mean acknowledging to myself that the assault had actually occurred. That would be too horrible for my conscious mind to accept, and at the time, the phrase drugged and raped, never crossed my mind.  The truth was indisputable, yet I forced myself into denial refusing to believe the worst had happened. It was too unthinkable to imagine because I had no preconceived concept of a human being commiting such evil . And the fact that I knew some of the perpetrators made the truth that much harder to process. None of Dickinson's crimes would be challenged until the year 2005 when my memories of 1962 began to emerge.

I believe the brain rejects whatever it deems too unbearable. Instead, the trauma is stored in the subconscious indefinitely ... a survival technique that can last months, years, or even decades.


The Mindset of My Generation

·    Date Rape (in my world) was non-existent. The stereotype rapist did not include friends or acquaintances.

·    The term "date rape" had not yet been coined.

·    The term "group sex" was used in lieu of "gang rape".

·    Victim Blaming was Huge: It was widely believed that nice girls didn't get raped, and that a boy is only as bad as the girl he's with (advice from my own mother!). In otherwords, if a guy goes too far, it's always the girl's fault. I was taught to be a lady and follow the rules.

·    Few (if any) college rapes were officially reported. Who would believe her? Frat guys were not perceived as thugs or criminals.

·    The "Hook Up" generation came 20-30 years later. 
 
·    Dating a guy from Georgia Tech was supposedly safe and quite prestigious.  The Greeks were known for recruiting men of character and intelligence to enhance the quality of the brotherhood -- a rock solid façade for “some” fraternities. In reality, the attitude was more like "Join our frat, booze it up and get laid."  But they could ill-afford a rape scandal, so they were “taught” how to cover their tracks. It was easy back then. Did any girls go missing in Atlanta during the 1960's as part of the cover-up?

·    It amused me when Dickinson explained that there were women called "nymphs" who eagerly participated in group sex (today referred to as gang rape). On one occasion in 1961, he gloated over his recent involvement in group sex. According to Dickinson, the nymph "couldn't get enough". Should I have considered him dangerous? Yes.

·    I grew up in an innocent generation without any knowledge of sodomy or oral sex. Straight sex was still somewhat of a mystery to me; and until Dickinson raped me, I was a virgin.

·    Women were not at all concerned about drug rape or illegal drugs within their social network. Alcohol was the only popular drug of the day. If you got raped under the influence of alcohol, then you deserved it. That was the mindset in the sixties. If you behave like a lady and stay out of dark alleys, you'll never be harmed. Society believed this myth, and so did I.

·    Overall, women had little influence. Many were socialized to attend college a few years, then marry and have children. The few who obtained degrees usually went into teaching or nursing. Others became secretaries, an honorable job at one time. 

·    RAINN and other victim oriented services, including the Internet, were in the distant future. Thank God for the early women pioneers who encouraged women to come forward.


Dickinson’s Revelations:
·    During the hazing indoctrination into a Greek fraternity, pledges are pretty much brainwashed into accepting the theory that "all women are whores", and according to Dickinson, even one's own mother is not exempt. Some pledges were naive enough to buy into this mentality, thus creating a dangerous minority of rapists.

·    Dickinson pointed out that [some] frat men robbed veterinary clinics to get their hands on drugs used to facilitate rape. Ketamine?

·    Despite his crimes against women, Dickinson proclaims, "We are all responsible for our own actions". Peel away the mask, and you'll discover a self-righteous pathetic coward, whose life has been a charade known only to the brotherhood.

·    He also revealed something about a knife that Theta Chis were required to carry -- a knife long enough to penetrate a "nigger's" heart -- (not relevant to this blog, but if true, a hair raising example of the mind poisoning hazing techniques).

·    Some were involved in "necrophilia" because one of the brothers knew the night shift worker at the Grady Hospital morgue. Hazing ritual?

·    Dozens of innuendos were made by Dickinson and Faulkner, especially in 1978.  They couldn't resist the urge to tout their heydays.


The Gang Rape, May 1962:
What began as an ordinary date turned into an ambush.  There were plenty of red flags, but I missed them all.  Days prior to the date, Dickinson set the stage by telling me he had invited a few Theta Chis and their dates (several I knew)  to his off campus apartment located on Beverly Drive in Sherwood Forest. Parties off campus were not unusual, and I'd never observed any inappropriate behavior or excessive drinking.

He made an unusual request that I wear slacks.  I wore a skirt instead. He grunted his disapproval, knowing that a skirt would be more difficult to remove.  In the car on the way to his apartment, he seemed preoccupied.  I made small talk and asked some simple questions like who else would be there.  He replied evasively, "I'm not sure".  By now I'm irritated because he won’t make eye contact.

We arrive at the apartment.  I ask, "Where is everybody?". He shrugs, "I don't know".  I begin rummaging through the kitchen cabinets for snacks to serve for when the others arrive. Normally, the first thing Dickinson will do is fix drinks. When he neglects to do so, I curiously ask why.   Still avoiding eye contact and fiddling with something in the sink, he mumbles, "Let's wait until the others get here" ... totally out of character for him.  I let it go and moved on to something else.

About 15 minutes later, two sharp looking preppies show up at the door.  Dickinson had never laid eyes on them, although their visit clearly was no surprise to him.  They introduced themselves and shook hands. Probably in their late twenties, they had a distinct professional aura ... more like plainclothes cops, although I knew they weren't.  Unaware that it was all a conspiracy, I began a friendly probe asking where their dates were, their fraternity, etc.  It seemed incredible to me that a couple of total strangers from XYZ fraternity would show up uninvited without dates.   And weren't they a little too sophisticated to be frat guys?

After the four of us were comfortably seated in the living room, Dickinson and ONE of the strangers disappear into the kitchen to fix the drinks.  They would add a swig of Ketamine (or whatever) to mine.  The "other" stranger keeps me engaged in conversation in the living room.  It was a very odd conversation because he never gave a straight answer to any of my questions.  Little did I know of the impending danger.  I just sat there waiting for the familiar crowd to show up.  Where are they!?

After several minutes of idle chit-chat with the charming stranger, I blurt out, "I wonder what's taking so long in there?".  I promptly head for the kitchen, but the charming stranger stopped me in my tracks.   He literally sprang out of his chair, leaping in front of me to block the path, loudly mimicking my question to ALERT the two in the kitchen.  This smooth maneuver lasted all of ten seconds. I still didn't get it.  I just smiled and sat back down obediently, while Dickinson and the other guy took another minute or so in the kitchen to fine-tune the details of the gang rape.

When they returned to the living room, Dickinson handed me a drink.  I placed it on a small table to the left.  The conversation felt awkward, forced.  When I finally reached for the glass, you could hear a pin drop.  All eyes were upon me. Dickinson had a peculiar look on his face as he watched me lift the glass to my mouth.  I don't remember having a second sip.  The three of them sat quietly waiting for the drug to take effect.  Within seconds, I experienced a huge wave of disorientation. My body buckled.  Dickinson took the drink from my hand, and helped me out of the chair. From that point on, I floated in and out of consciousness.

The rest is pretty graphic.  Dickinson guides me from the living room into the dimly lit bedroom, and positions me on my back.  He removes my underwear and applies an ointment.  He sodomizes me in various positions.  When he has me in a north-south position, he adjusts his penis to drape comfortably on the side of my face.  There comes a point when I notice the strangers are standing beside the bed. One is operating a camera with a bright light.  They are giving Dickinson explicit [sodomy] instructions until they see that I am not sufficiently drugged.  They scatter from the room. Dickinson remains in position, unaware that I'm awake.

My next memory is sitting on the edge of the bed. Dickinson holds a glass to my mouth ... he uses his other hand to force my head down to the glass, "You have to drink this!" I resist.  A few seconds later, I fake a big gulp swallowing as little as possible.  I don't recall being forced to drink any more after that, but much of my memory is blank.

Next, I see the three of them standing over me ... two on the left and one kneeling at the foot of the bed.   I can't get the words out, "What are you doing?".   I've racked my brain trying to remember exactly what they were doing to my body at that point.  Did they insert objects?  Yes.   I could not see the objects, but the pressure (no pain) was enormous.  Actually it felt like an exaggerated speculum used in a pelvic exam, but I would not have known that at the time, since my first "legitimate" pelvic exam was over a year later, which as any woman can tell you, causes only slight pressure, slight discomfort.

That brings me back to the question, "Who were the two strangers?"  How did they get their hands on a speculum, and know how to use one?  These are taxing questions for me. Could they have been pre-med students, quack abortionists, underground porn operators. Nothing would surprise me now.

Back to the camera with the bright light ... presumably, at some point, a film was shown in the living room after the arrival of several other Theta Chis eagerly awaiting their turn.  The room was now full of men and the lights had been turned off.  Outbursts of whistles and jeers erupt in unison .... and then a hushed silence so quiet you could hear a pin drop!
NOTE: The results of a routine examination performed by Dr. James Simpson (Ob/Gyn) in the fall of 1971, suggested that an object was inserted into the vagina which caused permanent damage to the vaginal wall all the way up into the cervix, inconsistent with penile penetration. A speculum would not have caused damage to the cervix, so a second object must have been used.  Dr. Simpson used words like "trauma" and "gouging".   When he questioned me, nothing registered.   I emphatically denied that anything happened to me.   So now, after all these years when I'm finally able to face the past, Dr. Simpson is deceased and his records shredded. 

Three years earlier in McLean, VA, another Ob/Gyn alluded to the samething by asking me if "anything out of the ordinary" had happened to me.

My body is like a corpse.  When I move, talk, scream, nothing comes out.  I am being raped repeatedly, and horrified because I recognize some of the perpetrators.  They are mingling around  casually with their drinks.   A myriad of thoughts and emotions race through my mind:  I am full of fear, helplessness and humiliation ---  "Why is this happening! -- I can't move! -- everyone can see! -- nooo, stop! -- please somebody help!"   At one point, Ernie Faulkner, a major player throughout this entire blog, holds onto my hips urging me to "MOVE" [like, don't just lie there].  Each of them collapses on top of me or beside me after they finish. The shock and betrayal is overwhelming.  Denny Hansell fumbles around trying to find his glasses.  I didn't even know Hansell at the time, but his thick dark rimmed glasses would later expose his involvement.

Suddenly, the apartment is quiet. They're all gone. The living room lights are back on. Dickinson attempts to clean me up as I lie there  spread eagle.  I feel apologetic and embarrassed for losing control of my bladder.  He opens my eyelid to make sure I'm not dead.  He smears something on my face.  Feeling annoyed, I turn my head away. He scrawls symbols on parts of my body ... staking claim.

All the planning pays off. The gang rape is a huge hit.  Dickinson becomes an overnight success. Finally, his peers would have to pay attention to him. There were probably a lot of high-fives around the room that night for a job well done. They would go on with their lives, continuing to rape.  Their reputations would remain unscathed. It was easy.

Dickinson had thought of everything!  Instead of driving me home, he calls a cab to avoid the risk of being confronted by my parents.  With the cab on the way, I'm still lying on the bed in and out of consciousness.  He sits on the edge of the bed next to me with a rag and liquor bottle and blots my sweater several times with alcohol.  How else would he convince the cab driver I was drunk?

The cab arrives.   Dickinson shakes me violently, "Wake up, you gotta go now!"  Startled, I bolt on command.  So far so good, but how will he get me outside and up the steep hill to the cab wating at the curb?  My legs are like rubber.   He struggles to get me off the bed and through the living room full of leftover food boxes and dirty glasses.  He manages to get me outside the front door, but there's no way he can drag me up the hill where the cab is waiting.  That's when all the yelling begins:

Dickinson: "I NEED SOME HELP!"

"WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH HER!?"   driver yells from the top of the hill.

"OH, NOTHIN', SHE JUST HAD A LITTLE BIT TOO MUCH TO DRINK".

Together they grabbed on to my arms and half dragged me up the hill and into the back seat of the cab.  I lay my head down on the seat.  Patting me gently on the shoulder, Dickinson mutters sweetly, "That's a girl ... now go to sleep honey ... you'll be fine in the morning" -- a stunning performance for the cab driver who I'm sure gets a pungent whiff of the alcohol soaked sweater.  What a charade!  I bristle with rage, but can't speak or defend myself.  I want to throttle Dickinson, but I'm powerless.  Will the cabbie take me to the police station?

I'm passed out on the back seat all the way home.  The cabbie helps me out of the car and to the door, making sure I'm safely inside my house.  He lingers in the doorway, obviously concerned, watching me make my way through the house, "Are you going to be okay?", he repeats.  It must be after midnight ...  my parents are already in bed.

Once inside the house I feel a great sense of relief.  I also feel grateful to Dickinson for my safe return home.  Yes, it's a huge contradiction feeling gratitude towards the man responsible for having you gang-raped.  I couldn't think.   I just wanted to sleep.


The Morning After:
Reality hit hard. The subdued emotions I'd had the night before were now intense. Should I call the police? No, it was much too personal, shameful and humiliating. I'm thinking this could never have happened to anyone else. I knew I didn't deserve what happened, but who would believe me? I felt invisible against a dozen or more "gentlemen" with power and status.

I cried face down in the pillow to muffle the hysteria, "Oh, God, noooo noooo". I knew I had to stifle the tears because red swollen eyes would alert my family that something was terribly wrong. There was no time to grieve. I had to pull myself together, knowing they would be in the kitchen waiting for me -- the normal weekend routine.

I awoke fully clothed on top of the spread still wearing my high heels.  My nylons (no pantyhose back then) were rolled down almost neatly around my ankles.  In those days, we wore what was called a "panty girdle" with hooks to attach the nylons one leg at a time.  My panty girdle was wadded around my waist.

As I began to stir, I saw their grotesque filth all over my body.  The exposed parts of my skin felt sticky to the touch -- face, lips, neck, hands, arms, and legs.  I did NOT know sperm was "sticky" because it had never been on or inside my body.  I wonder if they carried this out in a ceremonious fashion.  My clothes reeked of a nauseous sweet smelling odor ... like gardenias mixed with dirty socks.

I had to get to the bathroom! But first I had to conceal my condition.  I changed into morning attire (pajamas and robe) in case I ran into somebody down the hall.  While changing, I noticed a large smudged OX symbol marked on my inner thigh.  From my vantage point, the symbol was transposed (XO as in hugs and kisses).  It didn't make sense.  Walking down the hall, I could feel the sperm oozing.  I made it to the bathroom unseen and locked the door.  I hardly recognized the reflection in the mirror.  My face was pasty white with another OX symbol marked on my forehead, and my hair was matted like straw from dried semen.  That's the last memory I have of the bathroom; can't even remember taking a shower.  Did I go into shock?   He intentionally left no doubt in my mind that I had been used, abused, and spat on.  I later found my panties stuffed inside my purse.  I felt dead.

Eventually, I strolled out to the kitchen, dreading whoever might be there.  My mother was alone, thank God.  She greets me with the usual cheery "Good morning".  I forced a smile and poured some coffee, avoiding her gaze.  "Breakfast"? "  No, I'm not hungry".  She asks about my evening, and then says:  "Honey, you must have really been tired last night. You went to bed with all your clothes on, even your shoes!".  I nearly fell over!  She had checked on me when I was still asleep.  Did she suspect anything?  Maybe.  Turns out the cab driver had written his phone number down and left it on the kitchen table.   It dawns on me as I write this --- how could she "not" have known?

Life went on as normal. I spared my mother the reality that her daughter was "ruined" (as she would say).   I also spared myself from a litany of questions, like, "How could you do this to your father and me?", etc.

For days, I deal with the possibility of pregnancy.  I'm supposed to be in someone's wedding soon. What if I'm pregnant.  How do I abort.  And if I'm unable to abort, how do I kill myself.

Probably within a week or so, I could breathe a sigh of relief.  I wasn't pregnant.  Had I contracted a disease or infection?  No, I was lucky on both counts.  It didn’t occur to me that I could have developed a serious infection from open wounds or STD's.  I remember feeling almost euphoric when my period came around. I [thought] I could LIVE again! The nightmare was over.

Little did I know my life would turn into a downward spiral.  After that, I pretended things were normal and made a concerted effort to block out the past, which eventually diminished into flashbacks.  This outrageous denial would consume my life until the memories came alive 43 years later (2005).

Devastating Effects of Gang Rape:
First of all, I pray that this never happens to any of you, but if it does, don’t wind up letting it control your life, as I did … please get help immediately!  You cannot imagine the terror and emotional aftermath of such an experience. Your memories may or may not be pushed aside.  Either way, the effects of rape, depending on the degree of violence, will manifest in a victim's everyday life -- relationships, parenting skills, job opportunities, and the ability to function normally. It will sap your energy, rob your spirit and erase your dignity.  You may experience nightmares, eating disorders, withdrawal, depression and guilt, along with other destructive behaviors.  A disorder that I continually deal with is a "heightened level of vigilance", which means simply that if anyone (even my husband) surprises me by walking into the same room, I react with slight hysteria.   Also, for years, I compulsively created endless to-do lists and budgets.  The greatest tragedy of all occurs when, for no apparent reason, you alienate those who love you, and you burn bridges for no apparent reason.  Murder does not trump gang rape.   

I am reminded of an old movie "The Body Snatchers" -- they steal your soul at night while you're sleeping, leaving you spiritually dead.  There's nothing left but a shell devoid of emotions.  From this shell emerges an alien creature.  This creature is the "new you" and you're stuck with it.  The course of your life is changed forever.  You have a brand new identity and there's no going back. In real life, it can be a death sentence unless you seek help immediately.  The psychological damage will only worsen as you spend the rest of your life trying to regain your sense of self.

Blocked Memories
I was 21 when the gang rape occurred, followed by years of ominous flashbacks.  I prefer to call them "images", always with a brief few seconds duration, never enough time for my brain to process and analyze the images.

In retrospect, I guess I always knew something was amiss.  I think it's truly amazing how the mind works.  If you are conscious of a trauma, you can start to unravel it in your mind.  But if the trauma is unconscious, it can be disastrous because there's nothing to unravel!  It's like an undertow in your life -- a swamped or drowned feeling.  You don't know where it's coming from, how to stop it, or what it means, because instead of having acknowledged the trauma, you have locked it away.  But you do NOT forget -- the flashbacks serve as a constant reminder.

Here's an unsophisticated analogy:  It's as if for 43 years, my psyche warned me:  "I'm willing to share some details with you from time to time, but I won't give you full access to your memories until you can safely handle the trauma in its entirety".

In July of 2005, something clicked.  I could finally retain one of those fleeting images.  Gradually, one thought produced another and I managed to connect the dots (you can't connect the dots until you can SEE them).  The deeply buried memories (or dots) didn't surface in a day or two.  Pulling them out of memory set off a long vigorous war with my subconscious.

The recollections are vivid ... etched in my mind as though it happened yesterday -- everything is so clear, including the many unexplained conversations and events that ensued over the years.   Could false memories have been implanted in my mind by the "power of suggestion"?  Not a chance!  Nobody has ever remotely suggested that I might have been raped or harmed in any way.

The next two things are pretty amazing to me:
1. From the moment Dickinson drugged me until the time I awoke the following morning, my conscious moments of the gang rape total no more than five minutes out of what could have lasted over 5 hours! Those 5 minutes are certainly a minuscule part of the whole picture, but ...

2. The spontaneous recall of infinite details is remarkable -- from the time Dickinson picked me up for the date that night until I awoke the next morning. It's all there crystal clear ... even the low buzzing sound of the camera reel!

This monster deserves castration for dehumanizing me and other unsuspecting women.  Stunned when I confronted him on the phone in 2005, he blurted out a few unguarded statements that jolted my memory even further.  Dickinson will escape criminal prosecution for his crimes -- he is protected under the Statute of Limitations for Rape in the State of Georgia.   I oppose this statute because it discounts 43 years of repression.

The Georgia tolling law should apply here.  Except for flashbacks, I had no memory of being drugged and gang raped until 2005.  Through his association with Theta Chi and the help of his peers, Dickinson held a position of power over me.  With drugs, he reduced me to a state of infancy.  My life was in danger.  I did not choose to be violently assaulted.  I did not choose to repress the memories.  Other factors should also be considered, such as conspiracy, premeditation and degree of brutality; extreme manipulation; the number of men involved; the frequency of his crimes (3 separate premeditated incidents); and the severe physical, psychological and emotional damage he inflicted.

How is justice served when a degenerate like Jim Dickinson is protected by state law?  First he hides behind the organization of Theta Chi and the Institute of Georgia Tech, and now the Georgia Statute of Limitations!  I am alive to tell the horrors he inflicted, but penalized because of the Statutes.   A victim does not consciously choose to block out memories -- repression is how the brain protects one against severe trauma.


Dickinson's Most Compelling Motivation:
"His constant, almost overwhelming struggle to convince the brotherhood that he liked girls (in that way), and to be perceived as masculine".

At times, he behaved like a social misfit desperately seeking acceptance and reassurance.  I think his tactics were transparent to all who knew him.  His personality was beyond annoying.  He was an exhibitionist -- the dominant trait in all of his sexual assaults.  To Dickinson, women were disposable, yet necessary (in his case) to thwart off suspicions of non-conformity.

He never appeared to be attracted to women, including me, so I erroneously believed he was harmless.  As a predator, exploiting vulnerable women became easy and addictive.   Degrading them gave him a high, but only if performed in front of an audience. You see, it was essential that Dickinson parade his evil by literally gathering the brothers to bear witness to the degradation. Without witnesses, all the carefully contrived evil would be a futile waste of time.  In his twisted mind, inflicting pain indicated manly behavior, so it was imperative that everyone "see to believe", regardless of whether the abuse was physical or verbal.

Dickinson craved the limelight. To him, negative attention was far better than NO attention, although he may have been incapable of knowing the difference.

Also interesting  -- When Dickinson initially participated in “rush week” on fraternity row, not a single fraternity extended a bid to Dickinson [to join].  His father pulled some strings to get him a bid from Theta Chi.  I think he also memorized the complete stats for Georgia Tech football to ensure his bid.   Why was he turned down?

Nobody knows what goes on in the twisted mind of a rapist.  Their brains are wired differently.  I think constant rejection from both men and women fueled his anger and made him extremely menacing and potentially lethal.  He knew I had no romantic interest in him.  Perhaps Dickinson perceived me as taking advantage of him -- football games, fraternity parties, etc.   At some point, he decided it was pay-back time.  The best way to accomplish that?  A flawless gang rape ... his greatest achievement, and the only accomplishment for which he would be remembered by the brotherhood of Theta Chi.

Bottom line: If it happened to me, it's not a stretch to know it happened elsewhere -- not only by Georgia Tech students, but students on neighboring campuses, neighboring states ... and throughout the country.   It was not an isolated crime.  Potential prey included any easily manipulated female. Her morals and background were of no concern to deviant mindsets.  And finding a virgin probably earned extra points – a higher notch on the ladder.   [Stressing again -- the offenders were not the majority].

Note:  A woman was [allegedly] brutally gang raped in 1985 at the Chi Phi house at Georgia Tech. The leader was President of Chi Phi, where his picture still hangs. The rape went unreported.  I imagine there were thousands of unreported rapes on college campuses across the county until women began coming forward in the 1990's.

Brotherhood Loyalty:  Only a handful of Theta Chi's were involved in rape, but the entire Chapter operated under a tight veil of secrecy.  Loyalty to all members far outweighed any sense of moral obligation to report criminal activity among the brotherhood.  Theta Chi ignored Dickinson's criminal behavior.   Had any of these women died from GHB (or whatever), I suspect the brothers would have formed an alliance of deception to protect the chapter and each other.

Dickinson was bold enough to mastermind a gang rape, so he was certainly capable of devising Plan-B in the event of a girl's death.  What would have happened in case of respiratory failure or cardiac arrest from drug overdose?  A shivering thought: Had he pre-arranged for the disposal of my body? Would he have gotten away with murder?  How about other victims in the 1960's ... did any of them just disappear without a trace?  Is that the meaning of the "Holy Ghost" that Dickinson and Faulkner used to joke about?


How He Drugged Me ... Ketamine, GHB  or his own special lab brew?

·    Based on his own admission of guys robbing veterinary clinics, that would be Ketamine.

·   There was a telling conversation between him and John Cook about "Special K".

·   My body felt paralyzed from below the neck down with no physical sensation or pain. I could not speak, move or react, and was unconscious most the night.

·   Lab concocted drugs: Only scant information is available on experimental drugs used in the early 1960's; therefore, another theory is that Dickinson may have concocted knockout drugs in the chemistry lab. This theory is based on an heated confrontation at Theta Chi between Cook, Faulkner, and Dickinson sometime after September in 1964.

Few notes on Richard (Ernie) Faulkner:
Faulkner had to leave Georgia Tech.  Turns out that he was ordered by a Judge to join the Marines "or else".  Did Faulkner finally get caught?  Had he been involved in another rape?  Did the judge’s term "or else" mean prison? Anyway, he spent June through August at boot camp in Jacksonville.  It is presumed that he squeezed in a short trip to Atlanta in September before being shipped off to San Diego, and during that trip, he stopped by the fraternity house to confront Dickinson.
Correction: That should read boot camp at Parris Island, then Marine Corps School NAS, Jax.

“Faulkner won't be around for a while" is the only explanation Dickinson gave for Faulkner's untimely departure from Tech. This was in August of 1964.  In 1965, Dickinson added that Faulkner had joined the Marines because his GPA was too low to graduate.    Today we know the truth – another mystery unraveled.


Where Are They Now?
Dickinson is a man of leisure and the plays the doting grandfather -- spends time golfing, drinking, and playing gin at the country club. Certainly nothing wrong with that for the average retiree, but he is a rapist and should have spent his life behind bars. He should never have been given the opportunity to graduate college and have a career, or to marry and have children.

I know the whereabouts of several of the perpetrators (published in my earlier blog), but have no personal vendetta with anyone except Dickinson. There were those I did not recognize.   These men, a dozen plus, did nothing to me that Dickinson did not encourage.   He was also Pledge Marshall in 1962, meaning he had direct access to new recruits ... to groom them for gang rape?

Theta Chis, not involved to my knowledge, were Johnny Herbert, Tolson Meares, Bill Carroll, Bill Peacher, Richard Pignataro, Eddie Kienel, Charlie Pfaff, Paul Lee and Dave Blackwood. I'm not sure about Frank Ryder, Frank Landrey, Bob Troughton or Frank Sherrill. And I emphasize "to my knowledge", because it would not surprise me to learn otherwise. My reasoning is based on the complete shock I felt the morning after the attack, recalling the rapists' faces, almost in disbelief that certain ones could have been a part of anything so horrible. But I was there. I know.

Other mysterious events unraveled:

Russell Grove, Dickinson's roommate for 4 years at Theta Chi, died in 2005 after a long career with a major law firm in Atlanta.  Interesting that he ended his friendship with Dickinson early in 1964 after passing the Georgia Bar.  Any hint of a rape scandal could have been disastrous for his career.  It took me over 43 years to figure out why their friendship was dissolved, and why Dickinson was not invited to his wedding in 1966.  In fact, the majority of Theta Chis eventually distanced themselves from Dickinson for years to come.  They didn’t want the baggage. The only brothers remaining in his camp today are Faulkner and Cook.

Faulkner's Wedding Rehersal Dinner, 1966:  Faulkner chose Dickinson as his "best man" even though they hadn't seen each other since their unfortunate tiff at the fraternity house a few years earlier. Members of the wedding party began arriving at the private dining hall. Seating arrangements were designated by place cards. Then something very strange happened. Dickinson, the "best man", walked to the head table expecting to be seated beside the rest of the groomsmen, mostly Theta Chis. Instead, his seat was relegated to the far end of an adjoining table, completely separated from his frat brothers. During the event, the brothers made their speeches and toasts to the bride and groom.

Dickinson's need for attention got the best of him. He finally stood defiantly and gave his own speech. The situation was extremely uncomfortable for him.  It  got worse. As the event wound down, his friends decided to do a little partying elsewhere. Adding insult to injury, they excluded him.   There’s a very good reason why this happened.

Later that evening, he and his wife dropped by Faulkner's hotel room.  The bride-to-be and John Cook were also there.  A nasty scene broke out. Faulkner hurled a liquor bottle at Cook.  Cook ducked. It hit the wall. Glass and liquor splattered.  Wonder what that was all about?   Well, now we know.

Rape in March, 1962:  
In a separate incident, pale in comparison to the gang rape, Dickinson committed a crime that began at the Hank & Jerry's Club, a large popular night spot in Atlanta that catered to the college crowd. Three Theta Chis and their dates (Jim Dickinson with Geri; Bill Peacher with Connie; and Richard Pignataro with Lee) are seated around a large rectangular shaped table amid a lively crowd, and music that rocked.  As the evening progresses, Dickinson decides it's time for the girls to leave the table, so he can freshen their drinks, still half full, with something “special”.  The following conversation is verbatim and shows how easily Dickinson manipulated the girls to act on cue:

Dickinson casually remarks:  “I’ve never seen Geri wait this long to use the restroom.”

Geri smiles and reaches for her purse:  "Okay, Connie, let's go!"

Pignataro chimes in, urging Lee:  "Why don't you go too [with Connie and Geri]." 

Lee says:  "Oh, you want me to go too"?

What a cute scene with everyone smiling and giggling. The girls scurry off to the ladies room, completely unaware of Dickinson's plan to slip drugs into their drinks while they were away.

They return after 15 minutes or so, their drinks now potent enough to immobilize them for the rest of the night.  Dickinson immediately proposes a "toast" to ensure that the girls  take a sip all together and pass out simultaneously.  Within seconds, Connie and Lee lose consciousness and buckle over. 

What about Geri?  Well, Geri presented a slight hitch in the grand plan, because after the toast, instead of sipping with the others, she placed her drink down on the table.  With that, Dickinson raised his glass again with urgency:  “You have to drink, too"!

Geri complies, but those few seconds delay gave her time to notice the other two girs had passed out. She remained conscious long enough to catch the horrible grimace on Connie's face across the table. She giggles, thinking Connie is just acting silly.  Peacher moves in quickly to prevent Connie from falling out of her chair. Geri takes in all the action, including the frantic expression on Peacher's face as he watched Connie’s body go limp.  To Geri’s left, Pignataro's arm is wrapped around Lee, supporting her lifeless body with her head nestled atop his shoulder.  Geri has no time to decipher the situation before losing consciousness herself.

The scene above happened within seconds.  Did patrons sitting nearby notice? So now what happens? These guys have to maneuver three debilitated girls out of a jam-packed club ... without raising suspicion!  Once outside the club, the girls are practically dragged across the parking lot to Dickinson's car.   Incredibly, a couple of onlookers actually sympathized with the perpetrators, believing these poor unfortunate "gentlemen" were acting in good faith in the best interests of their drunken dates. They are lauded with praise.

How could such a brazen incident attract no attention -- even in the 1960s! Why didn't anyone challenge the coincidence of three seemingly drunk girls being led out of a club ... one right after the other in intervals of less than a minute apart?!

They are transported to Peacher’s apartment.  Dickinson takes Geri into the bedroom.  The other two girls are kept in the living room.  Dickinson removes Geri's slacks and soon begins sodomizing her. The sodomy act is nothing more than a pretense to impress Peacher and Pignataro.  You see, the bedroom was located in the center of the apartment between the living room and kitchen, so when either of them passed through, Dickinson's sodomy performance shifted into high gear with all the animation you would expect from an exhibitionist.  But without an audience walking through, his head lay motionless, yet still in position and ready to perform.  The assault had nothing to do with sex.   Had Dickinson really fooled Peacher and Piggy?

Connie, still sitting with Peacher in the living room, begins questioning Geri's whereabouts.  At this point, Peacher is fed up.  He goes to the bedroom and tells Dickinson to put an end to the porn show so to speak.  They  let Connie go to the bedroom, but not until after Dickinson put Geri's slacks back on.

When Connie finally comes in, Geri is lying on her back with Dickinson's body draped over her, creating the illusion of kissing and embracing like a real couple.  Always the exhibitionist.   Connie has no idea what he actually did to her minutes earlier.  Geri is still powerless from the drugs.  Connie isn't doing much better.  She wakes Geri up to go to the bathroom. They both vomit.  Geri returns to the bed and falls asleep.  The party's over, so now the task at hand is to get the girls in the car and drive them home.

Geri and Connie are dragged to the car and plopped in the back seat like Raggedy Ann dolls and driven back to Geri’s home.  Dickinson pulls into the driveway, turns off the ignition, and clumsily prods them out of the car, along the sidewalk, and up the steps to the back door, and into the bedroom.  There's a vague memory of him standing in the bedroom doorway [to ensure that the girls were down for the night?].  What a lowlife disingenuous bastard.  Did the third victim, Lee, get home safely?

Connie and Geri awake the next morning with chunks of their memory gone.  They both know something went terribly wrong, but neither of them say a word.  They are unusually quiet.   Connie is the first to speak,  "I think we were drugged".  Geri denies such a hideous thing could possibly happened.  After all, these "gentlemen" are Theta Chis from Georgia Tech!   Connie insists:  "If we weren't drugged, then why can't we remember anything -- we hardly had anything to drink."

All three had been duped through no fault of their own.  They acted responsibly and had no reason to believe they were in danger.  Connie and Geri never again spoke of that awful night ... until Dickinson's sexual assaults came to light in 2005!

In all fairness to Bill Peacher and Richard (Piggy) Pignataro, they were coerced by Dickinson to aid and abet,  as evidenced by their body language (vivid in my mind) earlier that evening at the Theta Chi house.  Their willingness to play a role in Dickinson's scheme stemmed out of brotherhood loyalty, and maybe some kind of social debt.  Clearly, their actions were not premeditated.  Dickinson cleverly sucked them into his web -- he needed an audience.

One other point: When the girls left their drinks at the table to use the restroom, Dickinson probably insisted that Peacher and Pignataro sprinkle their fair share of the magic dust into the girls' drinks. That way, if the incident got reported, Dickinson's cowardly ass was covered.

The Auburn Rape, February 1962:
Back in the 1960s, Theta Chi hosted the annual Red Carnation Ball, an event to celebrate the crowning of their new Dream Girl (same thing as Sweetheart), a coveted title for the girl who exemplified the fraternity's ideals and character (it pains me to say that, knowing what I know now).

Each February a new Dream Girl and her Court were chosen. As far as I can gather, the nominees were girlfriends of fraternity members. They did not attend Georgia Tech and were not necessarily familiar with all the nuances of the Greek system.

Dickinson saw it as an opportunity to deceive a naive girl.   I’ll call her Jennifer, although most of you know her true identity.  In an elaborate scheme to rape Jennifer, his first step would be to trick her into believing she had been voted Dream Girl of Theta Chi. He telephones her.   Here’s the gist:

Dickinson:  "They just elected me President" [of Theta Chi].

Jennifer:  "Hey, that's great, congratulations”.

Dickinson:  "And guess what -- you've been voted Dream Girl".

Jennifer is flattered, but questions the validity of the voting process  How can a girl be voted Dream Girl without first being nominated, and who were the other nominees?  She treads lightly because Dickinson is now “president” of Theta Chi, so he must be telling the truth.  Why would he lie?

Dickinson:  "Oh, we nominated the girls at the meeting last night, then after that we took a vote, and you won"!

She ignores the whispering in the background, which turned out to be Ernie Faulkner -- coaching. He and Dickinson worked well in tandem. Add a woman to the equation and we're talking extraordinary danger.

Jennifer ignores the little voice inside warning her that something isn't right.   But still, why would he lie? She doesn’t know she’s being drawn in by a couple of rapists.

"Well, okay, I'm honored -- what am I supposed to do?"

He continues, "The next step is Auburn".

"Auburn? ... but why AUBURN!"

"We've entered you in the Regional competition there."

Jennifer is confused and wants to know:  "Wow, how did it happen so fast??"

She knows she has done nothing to deserve the Dream Girl title at the local level, much less the Regional level.  There were other more deserving girls who were in serious relationships and who had known the members much longer than she.  Why weren't they chosen to represent the fraternity?

He convinces Jennifer that it's all legitimate.  Of course, she's not familiar with the upcoming Carnation Ball, the annual event honoring the newly crowned Dream Girl; and certainly he's not going to tell her!  It never crosses her mind that he was planning to violate her in the worst possible way.

It would be an overnight trip, as they had to get up early on the day of the … uh … competition.  She would stay in a motel nearby Auburn U, and he would bunk at the Theta Chi frat house there.  Faulkner and McIntosh would also drive to Auburn in a separate car.

While in route in Auburn, Dickinson clears the last hurdle.  He tells Jennifer that he'll have to stay with her at the motel because "there's no room at the frat house".  Again, she believes him.  It's a little late to turn back, and Jennifer would never make a scene. Asking him to get two motel rooms would appear selfish and ungrateful.  She makes him promise not to tell anyone of the sleeping arrangement.  People didn't do that in the sixties.   Besides, she had no safety issues, having gone with him on two other trips --- once to UGA and another trip to the Gator Bowl.  Her friend, Fran, had gone along both times.  Jennifer and Fran had their own room and were never bothered.   

However, Dickinson didn’t want Fran to tag along to Auburn.  Jennifer was okay with that.

So they arrive at the motel in Auburn.  Nothing out of the ordinary happens that afternoon.  Shortly before bedtime, Dickinson makes his move. She gets angry. They struggle.  He quickly overpowers her.

I want to paint a clinical picture of what happened to Jennifer, so you'll have a better idea why the act of rape is such an inhumane, invasive, and life-changing event that can leave a woman physically and emotionally broken:

When a woman is sexually aroused, it creates a natural lubricant and the vaginal walls expand to ease penetration.  When she is not sexually aroused, the vaginal walls are touching, and the vagina is dry. In the unaroused state, the vagina is approximately 3.5 inches.  Imagine trying to force a fully erected penis into dry virgin territory.   Dickinson used his penis as a weapon, gaining about one-third of an inch at a time -- each time ripping away more and more tissue from the vaginal wall -- until, in lieu of natural lubrication, Jennifer's blood facilitated the rape.  This resulted in profuse bleeding and severe lacerations, leaving a huge fissure open to infection.

How does a man maintain a full erection while his victim is screaming and crying in excruciating pain?  I believe it has to do with Dickinson's brain chemistry, because the mutilation and torture obviously turned him on.  And that's exactly what it was .... a good 30 minutes of mutilation and torture.

Since his motive had nothing to do with sexual gratification, he carefully withdrew numerous times, so as not to ejaculate and "get a girl pregnant".  His motive was twisted, yet typical of his behavioral pattern.  Now he could prove to Faulkner and to Theta Chi that he had had sex with Jennifer. Her blood would be all the proof he needed.

No, she did not seek medical help or report him to the police. In fact, she begged him not to tell anyone, believing it would be their secret, thus creating a pathetically sick bond.  And she still believed the Dream Girl competition was legitimate.  In her mind, the rape had nothing to do with the competition. 

The next day, the Auburn Theta Chi House was packed full of chicly dressed couples noisily engaged in conversation.  Off to the side, Dickinson and Faulkner spoke briefly.   Then Faulkner disappeared for around 30+ minutes.  When he returned, the two of them had a deliberate hushed conversation. You could hear only bits of the conversation, yet Faulkner's animated gestures and expressions painted a clear picture.  He looked as though he might burst at the seams in disbelief.  [He had been to the motel to verify Dickinson's proof of sex].  First came the good ol' boys handshake for a job well done, then a lot of pocket-jiggling --- money to pay off the "bet", and to return the motel keys, car keys.   Based on what I know about their “Visions” and “Kodak pics”, the Auburn road trip was quite a success.  What an impressive story they had to tell when they got back to Atlanta.

Meanwhile, back a the motel, a very alarmed motel maid alerted the manager after seeing the enormous pool of blood. Earlier, Jennifer had wanted to "bundle" the bloody sheets hoping nobody would notice, but Dickinson wouldn't let her. I may go into details later, but long story short, the manager evicted Dickinson. Believe me, he wore the eviction like a badge of honor.

Relevant facts that clearly show Dickinson's guilt, including his most RECENT attempt to cover up the incident:

This is documented:  As recently as February 2, "2011", Dickinson gave the following explanation for the Auburn trip: According to him, he was "President" of Theta Chi (Ga Tech chapter), and was therefore required to attend the Regional meeting at the Auburn chapter. He said he took Jennifer with him to represent the fraternity in the "regional" Dream Girl competition.

However, Dickinson was never elected President of Theta Chi at any time during his 5 years at Georgia Tech, nor was he elected to any other office.

He, at no time, officially represented the fraternity at the State or Regional level, nor was he a member of any Committee that fostered relations with other Theta Chi chapters in the Region.

He attended no "meetings" while in Auburn in February of 1962.

The Georgia Tech chapter of Theta Chi, at no time, nominated or elected Jennifer as Dream Girl, which means she could not have competed at the State or Regional level, nor could she have been a member of any Dream Girl “court”.

Raping Jennifer was the sole purpose of the Auburn trip, with her blood as the ultimate proof.  Years later, Dickinson and Faulkner incriminated themselves by sharing a little too much information about their glory days at Theta Chi.  I guess enough time had passed to give them a safe, comfy feeling.

The Theta Chi Dream Girls at the Georgia Tech chapter from 1960 through 1964 were: Helen Duke, Sally Irwin, Mary Irving, Brenda Cheek, and Dianne Pignataro.

It is entirely plausible that while Dickinson was raping Jennifer on a February night in 1962, the real Dream Girl was being crowned at the annual Carnation Ball back in Atlanta.

No surprise that Jennifer refused to see or talk to Dickinson after that.  Hoping to change her mind, he went a step further by giving her a bracelet with the Theta Chi crest on top, and a personal engraving on the back.  She was convinced the bracelet represented a legimiate competition ... until years later when she realized what a complete hoax Dickinson had pulled off.


"Dream Girl Court, J.B. '62"


How far would Dickinson go?  Was he testing her silence and grooming her for something far worse?  Yes.

Dickinson's Final Act:  March 9, 1963, marked the beginning of a 20-year reign of evil on his own family, known in Greek circles as the "continuation of the ritual".

Polygraph:  In one of my letters (rants) to Dickinson in 2005, I urged that we each submit to a polygraph examination to determine who's telling the truth.  Yes, asking a rapist to submit to a lie detector test was a ridiculous idea.

On-Going Message to Jim Dickinson (updated regularly):
Do you ever look over your shoulder wondering if anybody inside the loop will break the silence and expose what they know about you?  Do you find yourself needing constant reassurance that their lips are sealed?  When you're with family or acquaintances, do you wonder which ones know about your past?  Any trouble sleeping?  Any paranoia?  I ask these questions because if I were in your shoes, it would be very unnerving, knowing my cover could be blown at any moment.  On the other hand, a person without empathy or humility does not react normally.

As I said earlier, getting inside your twisted mind is impossible. I can't help but wonder .... deep inside your gut, do you ever reflect on the horrific damage you caused -- on so many levels?  Do you have any understanding of the trickle-down effect?  Does anyone really know you?

I'll explain it in blunt terms you can relate to:
Try to wrap your mind around a situation in which "you" are the victim.  Imagine that a "friend" of yours has deliberately drugged your mind and body for the sole purpose of gaining complete control of the most private, intimate parts of your body.  Picture yourself lying naked face down on a bed at the mercy of up to 20 men, who are shoving their penises up you’re  a**.  All the while, you are aware of what's happening to you, but powerless to react.  You have no other choice but to endure the horror and wonder when and if the nightmare is going to stop, and hoping you’ll live through it.  For days, you relive the unbearable trauma until something kicks in to block it all out.  Years pass, and the memories lie dormant in your subconscious.  One day you wake up and realize who that "friend" turned out to be.  Can you see how the irony might drive you to the brink of insanity!

I overheard the phone conversations on February 1 and 2 (2011). You had the option to hang up, but you couldn’t resist the urge to manipulate others into believing that YOU, in fact, are the poor victim being unjustly accused.   You claimed that the blog was a complete fabrication, yet refused to discuss any specific item.  Here’s my favorite: “she can’t prove anything” and “we all have airtight alibis”.   Well, Jim Dickinson, we caught you.  Your lies affirm my account of at least two  incidents.
  
(to be continued):  Faulkner's revelations in 1978 in reference to gang rape status; i.e., FIRST STRING and a host of other inside frat language, including more unraveling of mysterious conversations and events;  also, Dickinson's involvement with the gang rape of 1978; Dickinson's falling out with Denny Hansell in 1977,  and Bill Peacher in 1978.

Pictures, Drawings and Links below.

As always, if anyone has information regarding the above assaults, or if you would like to comment:   
georgiatech1962 (at) yahoo.com

So far there are TWO victims/witnesses. We are trying to locate a 3rd victim, drugged in the Hank & Jerry's incident in March 1962, as described above. Yes, it's a long shot, but who knows ... maybe there's a reader among you who knows her.

 

Links


Check back to see sketches, drawings, and pictures of perpetrators.

END


Miscellaneous info …
Theta Chi's Definition of Sexual Assault http://www.thetachi.org/ To locate the article at this site, click Resources, click Operations Manual, click Risk Management, click Assault and Battery).

I disagree with the premise of Theta Chi's article because it focuses on men as victims. Fact is, the overwhelming majority of college rape victims are women, and the majority of offenders are men. Here's their definition of Sexual Assault (as seen on the official website of Theta Chi):

What is "Sexual Assault?" by Theta Chi:
In legal terms, sexual assault is any sexual contact that is against a person's will or without consent. This includes situations where force, violence, or weapons are used as well as situations where the victim is too intoxicated or scared to give consent. Sexual assault happens to men as well as women. In fact, by most estimations, 5% to 10% of sexual assaults committed in the United States involve male victims. Some experts say that as many as 1 in 10 men will be sexually assaulted in their lifetimes. These numbers may sound startling because the problem of sexual assault against men isn't talked about very much. Sexual assault against men happens in lots of different ways. Some men are assaulted by a stranger, or a group of strangers, while others may be assaulted by someone they know. Men are sometimes sexually assaulted by women but most often they are sexually assaulted by other men. Some attackers use weapons, physical force, or the threat of force to gain the upper hand. Others may use blackmail or a position of authority to threaten someone into submission. Still others use alcohol, drugs, or a combination of both, to prevent victims from fighting back. No matter how it occurs, it is a violation of a man's body and his free will and it can have lasting emotional consequences.

Georgia’s Seven Deadly Sins Law (passed in 1995):  This law mandates, for a first offense, a non-parolable sentence of at least ten years for kidnapping, armed robbery, rape, aggravated sodomy, aggravated sexual battery, and aggravated child molestation. Minimum sentence for first offense of murder is life, with no parole eligibility for 25 years. Second offense of any of the “seven deadly sins” gets life without possibility of parole.

Had this law been enacted in 1962 and the crimes reported, Dickinson might still be in prison. Tack on additional prison time for various counts of Conspiracy, Illegal Drug Possession, Poisoning, and several counts of Fraud, Kidnapping, False Imprisonment. Bodily Injury, Raping and Sodomizing an Unconscious Woman, and Transporting a Woman out of State for the purpose of committing a felon.

From The United States Supreme Court:  Rape is one of the most brutal acts one human being can inflict upon another. Rape shows total disregard for the welfare, safety, personal integrity and human worth of others. There are those who seemingly cannot be deterred from continuing such conduct. A rapist not only violates a victim's privacy and personal integrity, but inevitably causes serious psychological, as well as physical, harm in the process.

The long-range effect upon the victim's life and health is likely to be irreparable; it is impossible to measure the harm which results. Volumes have been written by victims, physicians, and psychiatric specialists on the lasting injury suffered by rape victims. Rape is not a mere physical attack -- it is destructive of the human personality. The remainder of the victim's life may be gravely affected, and this, in turn, may have a serious detrimental effect upon her husband and any children she may have.

I therefore wholly agree with Mr. Justice White's conclusions far as it goes -- that, short of homicide, rape is the ultimate violation of self. Victims may recover from the physical damage of knife or bullet wounds, or a beating with fists or a club, but recovery from such a gross assault on the human personality is not healed by medicine or surgery. To speak blandly, as the plurality does, of rape victims who are "unharmed," or to classify the human outrage of rape, as does Mr. Justice Powell terms of "excessively brutal," versus "moderately brutal," takes too little account of the profound suffering the crime imposes upon the victims and their loved ones.

The emotional impact upon the rape victim may be impossible to gauge at any particular point in time. The extent and duration of psychological trauma may not be known or ascertainable prior to the date of trial.""

David Westol, Former Executive Director, National Headquarters, Theta Chi --- also Former Prosecutor:  "Westol says he regularly tells chapters that, if chapter members are involved in a gang rape, the chapter's charter will be revoked".  He points out that Theta Chi, as do most other fraternities and sororities, has consultants - recent alumni - who make a two-year commitment to visit chapters across the country conducting seminars, providing technical assistance, and advising members as to issues and procedures regarding acquaintance rape prevention and other matters.  Westol says that "our workshops, leadership conferences, and seminars [on acquaintance rape] should be combined and blended with workshops offered by the host institutions.  It is that consolidation of effort that will help us reach every undergraduate in one way or another."  [In my opinion, Mr. Westol's statements imply that fraternity gang rape had been a significant problem].


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