Run Home, Havilah Capshaw Bagnaro

I am so brave as I sit in front of the camera crew; about to describe a sexual assault that happened to me, at the hands of Grant Pankratz, almost twenty years ago. 

Leaning on my years of dance and theater training I feel no shyness as the cameraman adjusts my microphone and when the journalist asks me how I feel, I can honestly answer that I feel just fine. How bizarre it is to finally be speaking about something that is still so visceral. I can take my mind back, easily, to the exact moment it happened and replay it like a favorite television show and yet is so secret I have never even told my husband. I get through the interview easily with little emotion and do not feel at all overwhelmed; even after everyone at the filming tells me I absolutely must file a police report, before the story airs the next evening on the ten o’ clock news. 

                As I drive away from the filming location I realize what I have done and it dawns on me that I have no attorney lined up yet. I also am very aware that the statutes of limitations for sexual assault have long past and any DA worth his salt would never pursue charges in a case like this. I push the panic down and head to the Edmond Police Department bracing myself to yet again describe the sexual attack while keeping my emotions in check. After leaving the police department I immediately call my friend who is a Criminal Defense Attorney and ask him what will happen next. He gives me the rundown and once again confirms that the statutes have past but he advises a civil suit. 

                I spend hours calling attorneys, even reaching out to Gloria Allred’s office, on the advice of my friend Doug, who is also an attorney, and I tell him he’s crazy but follow his instructions despite my doubts. How could this powerhouse of a woman care about me? I mull all of this over as I drive down to my best friend Lauren’s house and decide to stay the night with her. I know I can’t function as a Mother tonight and I will allow her to feed me and draw me a bath then put me to bed which is unlike my normal character. Surrendering and asking for help are not in my wheelhouse but I know Lauren will offer me refuge others cannot. I feel strongly this is what I need. While there, Allred’s office calls me back and agrees to help me find an attorney. A feeling like victory washes over me when I finally sign a contract with an amazing litigator the next day and the Allred Firm signs on to consult. I feel almost unstoppable, while at the same time, as if I am living a dream and none of this is even real. This feeling is fleeting but will give me power that sustains me for months to come. 

 

“It’s because you wanted to run, but you couldn’t, because he trapped you there.” The words resonate in my head and I repeat them over and over to myself as I will my legs to work doing the exercises my new therapist suggested over the phone. I tell my legs that it’s okay now, we are safe here in my bedroom, the documentary Seeing Allred on repeat. My family is just down the hall, plus a few friends, who came over to help with meals and manage the chaos that is life with three boys and two dogs. It becomes apparent that adrenaline was my only survival mechanism because as soon as I signed on with an attorney my legs gave out. Literally. 

 

 

My legs won't stop jerking and my hands keep involuntarily flying in front of my face, as if they are warding off an assault. I feel ridiculous and embarrassed and I don’t want anyone to come into my room and see me jerking around uncontrollably, so I say I’m going to sleep and want to be alone. Every time my head hits the pillow and my eyes finally shut I see the fence railing across from the trail we were standing on when he ripped my shirt open. My hands fly up in front of my face and my legs jerk in flight mode ready to bolt. I could have run home. I keep saying this. I could have run home. It’s my fault I didn’t run home. I could have taken the trail up the hill and around the bend, then straight into the cul de sac where the creek winds, all the way around to our backyard. Our house was only a ten minute walk from there. I could have just run home...

 

*if you or someone you know has been the victim of sexual abuse please contact the proper authorities to report abuse and for more resources go to https://www.rainn.org/about-national-sexual-assault-telephone-hotline