It was early, 5:30 a.m. Sometimes I didn’t hear my husband getting ready when he had to leave early for work, but this morning he was making more noise and it woke me. He left early several mornings a week, so this morning was no different. Since I was now awake, I got up to tell him goodbye. He gave me a hug, longer than his usual hug and more tender than was his norm. There was an odd feeling in the embrace as he told me goodbye. There was a different tone in his voice when he said the words, one of finality, and I remember thinking how odd it seemed. I felt like he had just told me goodbye for good. I brushed off the feeling, thinking that it was just another silly notion I’d had, as he so often pointed out to me. He seemed to think that I overreacted to things and had “feelings” about things that weren’t valid. I figured that there was nothing to worry about and that he was right about me, I must be imagining it. I went back to sleep until I knew I would have to awaken to get the children ready for the day.
8:30 a.m. I heard a knock at the door. It was my sweet mother stopping by on her morning walk. She came by often on her morning walks just to say hello and to see how the children were. My parents lived in the neighborhood, not far from our home. We visited momentarily and off she went to finish her walk.
9:00 a.m. The phone rang. I answered and the voice on the other end of the phone said, “Are you Sophia Lance?” “Yes”, I replied. “This is Officer McCleary with the local Police Department. Your husband has been in our police station this morning confessing to several things. Have you seen the letter he left for you on the seat of your car?” My mind was confused, stunned. What had the officer just said? My husband had been to the police station and confessed – confessed of what? And why would I have gone out to my car at 9:00 a.m.? I had two children under the age of five, and I was cooking them breakfast. I never went out to my car that early, why would I have seen a letter? I must not have answered her right away as my mind was reeling, and she said again, “Have you seen the letter?” “No”, I replied. “I haven’t been out to my car this morning.” “Well you need to go out to your car, read the letter and then call me back.” I was still very confused and my heart was beating very quickly. I told her that I would call her back and hung up the phone.
Hesitantly I went out to the car, retrieved an envelope addressed to me in Phil’s handwriting and came inside. I opened it and began reading. My husband had written to say how sorry he was for everything and he intended to make it right. Then the list of confessions started. He confessed to sexually abusing our children and other children belonging to our closest friends. He didn’t go into details, but said that these abusive sessions had started a few months before. He knew that his confession would probably send him to prison for a few months, maybe a few years, but in the end our little family would see this through and we would be together again. He would pay the price for his crimes and when he got out, everything would be fine.
I’m not sure what I did next. I think I was in shock. All I could do was to pick up the phone and call my mother. “Mom, could you please come, right now?” She didn’t ask any questions but answered, “I’ll be right there”. I’m sure she heard the panic in my voice, because she was there within minutes. The children were playing in the other room, I had tears in my eyes now. The things I had read in the letter were starting to sink in. I couldn’t speak, I just looked at her and handed her the letter. As she read it, the hand not holding the letter quickly went to her mouth as she gasped audibly. She read further, put down the letter and then put her arms around me. We cried together for several minutes, both of us shaking. Neither one of us said a word, we just cried. Then the phone rang again interrupting the silent tears. I’m sure at least 30 minutes had passed since the female officer had called, and she was calling back. My mother answered the phone this time. I could tell from her side of the conversation that the officer was once again asking if I’d read the letter and asking my mother who she was. Mom must have answered that I had read it, and the officer said that she would be right over.
I know I was in shock, unable to believe what was happening. The officer came over and asked me several questions that I don’t remember, but her real goal was to speak with my oldest child. Officer McCleary took her into a back bedroom to ask her some questions. I don’t know what questions the officer asked, but it seemed like she was with my child for a long time.
It was obvious that a police car was parked in front of the house. There was a knock at the door. My mother answered it – I was in no condition to see or speak with anyone. It was a neighbor, wondering if things were ok. My mother thanked her for her concern and said everything was fine. What else could she have said? None of us even knew what was happening. Had we all awakened to a bad dream? This couldn’t be real, couldn’t be happening. We didn’t know what to think. I was slowly losing my ability to cope and felt like I was going to pass out.