My Experience With A Psychopathic Pedophile
“When you look into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you.”
- Friedrich Nietzsche
My journey as an advocate began when a ‘monster’ – an ‘unrepentant habitual serial pedophile’ Â - entered my life. He crossed my path through the most mundane, everyday kind of way.
…and the events that occurred to me during & after our time together changed me and my views of the world forever.
I’m still healing from the psychological trauma of being in a brief relationship with a psychopathic criminal. He has left a trail of survivors who are courageously moving forward with their lives following his abuse.
I wish I could say that the ‘monster’ was the only pedophile I’ve come in contact with. Unfortunately – there’s been several. My experiences with Dan Rappe, however, opened my eyes.
I was introduced to the greatly disturbing, deeply dark mindset of a serial child sex offender. He was actively seeking to gain credentials that would allow him to enter schools.
Despite lack of support from my employer, I successfully fought my institution of higher education to prevent this. Many of the administrators told me to be quiet and allow this man to get his degree…and in the process, use the internship & legitimacy of the degree process to be put into unsuspecting schools with vulnerable children.
It wasn’t easy, and the struggle to force the institution to do the right thing greatly harmed my health.
I was a young woman at the time. I had no idea what I was getting myself into trying to thwart his attempts to be given a degree and be placed in a position of trust in schools.
This experience greatly harmed my peace of mind, my sense of justice, my belief that the world is basically a good place.
I suspect I’ll always have some scars. I’m working on dealing with the trauma this did to my psyche. To other survivors of psychological trauma out there…there is hope.
I’m keeping my story online because I hope there can be some greater good come out of my experience.
Here’s the original article I posted on the Internet 10 years ago. I wrote it in one session as a cathartic exercise and hence, have not corrected the grammatical/spelling errors.
May it help someone.
EMT, Officer, Pedophile by Heather
8/23/00Â (Article as Originally Written)
Introduction
This article is the most difficult, painful work I have created in a long time, yet I think that it is also crucial to my continued healing. It is about the most humiliating, scary, life-altering experience of my entire time on this good earth. It is about my relationship with a man who turned out to be a dangerous, twice-convicted (so far) child molester.
I use his real name, and his alias, as his crimes are a matter of public record, and he makes (and has made) every attempt to try to change his appearance, name, place of residence, etc. so as to get closer to potential victims by distancing himself from his known identity.
I swear (and am willing to do so under oath) that these words are true to the best of my memory.
I dedicate this work to all victims out there who have a much more painful tale to share. I share this with the world in the hopes that it helps others to identify potential offenders before they get a chance to harm someone.
The Beginning
These events happened a few years ago, and my memories of them are still so close that they are somewhat fuzzy. Of course, when one has been given much disinformation and lies, it becomes hard to know what the truth is, or was. But I will start from what I can remember.
I was working as a paramedic for a hospital based EMS service in 1992. I also worked as a EMT Instructor for Western Illinois University. I taught EMT and first aid classes for the Department of Heath Sciences. I really needed the extra money the job provided, and I liked having contact with people my age.
One day, I was sitting in my office during my required office hours when a man slightly older than me walked through the door. He introduced himself as Dan. He stated that he was a CPR Instructor for the American Heart Association, as well as an Illinois State Licensed EMT. He asked if I needed help with my classes. When I indicated that I was usually happy to have whatever assistance I could, he handed me his Instructor’s card to allow me to make a copy of it for my records.
I looked at the card, and the name said “Daniel J. Rape.”
Having the typical dark humor that many paramedics and EMTs do, I blurted out “WOW…now THAT’s an unfortunate name, huh?” The look on his face told me that I had greatly insulted him, and he corrected me. “That’s Rappe.”
He told me they had typed the card wrong. I admit now that I was naive. I took him at his word, something I never do for anyone…not anymore.
Life in a Small Town
University life in a small town is a strange microcosm of big city attitude compressed into the smallest possible space. Everyone seems to know everyone else, and yet it is surprising the lack of depth that exists in the majority of the relationships between people who loosely call each other ‘friends.’
College students regularly seem to call everyone who has not done them wrong ‘a friend’, as in ‘well, he was a friend. ‘ Or, ‘I let him stay in my room because he was my roommate’s friend’, or even ‘well, I thought he was trustworthy, because he knows my friends.’
College students seem to ascribe a level of trust towards other college students simply based on their status as a student, when in reality they are trusting someone who is still a complete stranger. After teaching at an institution of Higher Education for the past 8 years, I believe this misplaced trust is at the heart of many of the crimes against students.
College Populations Mirror General Populations
Something important that you, the reader, and anyone going to college should know is that there exists in any university population the same percentage of deviants, weirdos, outcasts, criminals, and truly dangerous individuals as there exists anywhere. The problem is that universities and colleges do not want that fact advertised.
Indeed, I know from my own experience that it never occurred to me that there might be people sharing the common area with me who might have already been in prison for one offense or another, and yet it was true.
Like other parolees who want to go to college, Dan was also living in a residence hall on campus, and seemed to get along well with his floor. Dan had made some good friends who assumed, as I did, that he was ‘just another college student’. In many ways, he was, but in the most important aspects, he was not.
I know for a fact that his Resident Assistants were told nothing of his history.
Judging by Outward Appearances
In the beginning, Dan was a good help during some of my classes. He also was getting his college degree in my department, to become a school health educator, with an emphasis in sexuality education.
Perhaps now is the time to mention that public institutions do no background checks of any kind to enter a major or minor. He was on the Dean’s list, as he had “straight A’s” during his time there. He became friends with some of the other students, many of whom were student EMTs, as he was.
In other words, he looked and acted with a normalcy that made him seem to blend in with the crowd.
There was a small group of EMTs on campus who helped with big events, such as concerts and dances. They were called the EMT Association. They performed basic first aid at these events. I was working with the group to form a campus basic life support service, and so I served as their advisor.
I was really young to be an advisor, as I was so close in age (and, in Dan’s case, years younger) then the persons I advised, but I did the best I could in my position.
About that time, I began taking classes for my M.S. in Community Health, so as it happened Dan and I had two classes together. We began studying together for exams during the week, and volunteered our time as EMTs on the weekends with the group.
Macomb is a tiny town, and finding dating material seemed really tough, so hanging out who I thought was a ‘nice, normal guy’ to spend time with was also a plus. I admit that I was attracted to him, and he seemed like a caring, sensitive guy.
During that time, I was recruited to help with taking blood pressures at our State Legislature for “legislative fitness day’, but I had to work the night before, so Dan offered to go in my place. He took vitals on many of Illinois’s senators and representatives that day. (Imagine if Dan Rostenkowski knew who was taking his vitals!) I thought he was so nice to help.
When I was asked to help the Boy Scouts of America on their Merit Badge Day, Dan offered to help and we taught a rather large group of boys how to perform life saving skills.
When a group of children came through the University Union while we had a display against drunken driving, Dan was right there in his uniform handing out candy and balloons. During each of the volunteer sessions, I remember thinking, “what a nice guy’.
Of course, I had no idea of Dan’s other, hidden life. It still makes me sick just thinking of all of the contact he had with children because of my trusting nature. Since then, I have learned that pedophiles work hard to steer their lives toward activities and people who provide easy access to children.
Later that semester, we began dating more regularly. We seemed to have quite a few things in common, and I thought that Dan must be ok, as he had that EMT license, was a good student, and a normal looking guy. I had been raised to think that sick individuals looked different somehow and had obvious things that marked them to warn us. I guess I must have supposed they would look like a monster. But, Dan looked just as normal and plain as anyone else.
One Version of Truth
There were some things about Dan that did bother me. For one thing, I have never liked being smothered in relationships. On the nights when I came home from one job or the other too tired to want to talk, he would not accept my refusal to pick up the phone. He called me incessantly…sometimes letting the phone ring for 50 or more times. When I would take the phone off the hook, he would trudge across campus and knock on my door until I came to the door. I should have paid attention to those signs alone, but I just told myself that he was lonely.
There were other strange things, too. He would disappear whenever one of the campus police officers came over to talk to us while we were working. He knew sign language, but it seemed to be all words and phrases which would only be of interest to a young child. He also knew many things that would entertain kids, and seemed to spend a lot of time on the Internet, which was new to WIU. He especially liked the chat rooms, something I didn’t have any interest in, then or now. He knew little magic tricks, and was more than happy to go up to the Dairy Queen (1 block away from my house) without me to get us freezes. He was really insistent at Halloween that he answer the door and hand out the candy, while I slept so I could work that night. He had virtual freedom to live in my neighborhood when he visited, and as my neighbors trusted me, they trusted him.
Our relationship progressed farther. I went home with him on Thanksgiving, and met his family. They seemed really nice. I jokingly asked “so…what dirt can you give me on Dan?’ The response was literally deafening in its silence. The family members quickly changed the subject, and I again ignored my instincts, attributing their reaction to interpretation of my question as inappropriate.
I know now that it was inappropriate for me to ask it of them – since I should have asked it long before I ever got involved with the man.
Also, expecting an honest answer from the loved ones of a pedophile is like asking my husband if he thinks I look bad. He loves me, so of course to him I never look bad, but even if I did, he would never say so. In trying to understand his family and why they did nothing to tip me off, I have to give them the benefit of the doubt and say that they were simply hoping that he would change, settle down, and find a new life.
We returned to WIU to finish out the semester. Right before the end of the semester, I picked Dan up for a date at the movies. He said that he didn’t want to go, since he needed to tell me something.
Hearing His ‘Truth’
He asked me to drive to a park, so I did. He sat there silently for a while, and I asked him to talk to me. He seemed ill. I started to get angry, and told him that whatever it was, if he could not talk to me, then the night was over, because I was not into mind games. He asked if we could go to my house, and so we drove the little distance to my home.
We got to my house and sat. He was sitting on the couch, looking quite strange…pale and sweaty. He told me that he “had a problem’. He told me that he “liked children’ in a way that wasn’t really accepted, and that he had a history of “inappropriate touching’.
He was not specific, but told me (and I honestly think he believed this) that he “NEVER harmed those kids’. He also said that he was sure he was about to be arrested for it again.
I cannot find the right words to adequately describe my reaction or feelings at hearing those words. They came from the mouth of a man who I really liked a lot. A man who I thought was a good man. A man who had sent off enough of the right signals that I trusted him implicitly.
I was shocked. I was angry. He told me that he would understand if I never wanted to see him again, but I didn’t want to accept him as he was…I wanted him to be who I thought he was before I knew the truth. In other words, my mind was closed to searching for more details, something that undermined my own personal safety.
He told me a lot of things, many of which I cannot remember. I still do not know which of his words were true, and which were simply his version of the truth.
We talked long into the night. He told me a horrible story of his own sexual abuse by the boys in his neighborhood. He told me that his step father used to beat him. By the end of the evening, I felt sorry for him, and felt sure that his “touching’ was behind him, a product of his upbringing. I let my own need to rescue someone overcome my instincts, and again took him at his word, despite all of the obvious lies which were confronting me.
There were a lot of questions that I didn’t know to ask, and should have. He did tell me that he had ran into a kid (a young boy) over near my house and had said hello to him, but that the police had seen him and pulled him in for questioning. He insinuated that the police were going to frame him based on his past. He also had gathered a lot of over the counter medications to kill himself with, and told me that he “will NEVER go back to prison’. I believed him, and was concerned for his welfare. Knowing what I know now, there are honestly times I wish I would have convinced him to go through with it.
Needless to say, our relationship was greatly altered; …but not yet ended.
School let out for break, and I admit that I even went up to Dan’s town to visit him over break. He was living in the Tivoli Hotel in downtown Downer’s Grove, Illinois at the time. He was working as a limo driver for Black & White Limo in Chicago, a job that paid him in cash (no records to track him) and gave him access to kids and some celebrities. The hotel itself had a movie theater, arcade, and bowling alley on the first floor.
Now, I know why he chose that as his place of residence.
The Light of Day
However, although we did still have a relationship, I did begin to build an ever increasing distance. When he told me that he was going to go out drinking one night, I told him that he should be sober all of the time, as he should never take a chance with lowering his inhibitions. He was livid and would not discuss the matter any more that night. When he asked me for my license plate number to give to his parole officer, with the purpose of misleading the P.O. into thinking I would be giving Dan a ride home (I was not), I declined- at first.
I allowed him to bully me into giving my license plate, probably because it was easier to maintain that facade that “I can fix him if I care enough”…if I didn’t insist on too many honest behaviors on his part.
I remember clearly one instance when he told me he was going hunting for the weekend with a friend of his brother, I pointed out that he wasn’t allowed to have a gun. He seemed completely uninterested in what was lawful or acceptable, and only in what ‘his rights’ were. I had begun to see the real person behind the well maintained facade of normalcy that he worked so hard to maintain.
By that time, I was in negotiations with the Office of Public Safety (campus police) department to get the current student group of EMTs into a partnership with their office for the purpose of creating the non-transport basic life support service. At our meeting, the two heads of the department shocked me. They said “well, it looks like everything is pretty much set, but one thing. You have to kick Dan Rappe out. He’s a felon, and in no way will he ever be allowed in this building except under locked guard.’
I asked them why (as I thought I knew, but wanted to hear their version). They informed me that he was defined as a convicted, habitual, highly dangerous pedophile. They also said that he had been a jailor with the Dupage County (IL) Sheriff’s Department when he had been caught having an ongoing, sexual relationship with a boy (I think his age was 9). He had been sent to prison, and had gotten in with a gang there. Then, when he was out, he was caught doing it again. Only the second time, when he was taken into court, he pulled a gun, but gave it up voluntarily. He was considered high risk to re-offend. (note: these events were listed as I remembered of that conversation and I probably remembered several things differently than what was actually said.)
Furthermore, they said, Dan had changed his name from RAPE to RAPPE to thwart some background checks and distance himself from his crimes. They also told me a frighteningly different version of what had happened in my hometown the few weeks prior.
Dan apparently started seeking out a child in the community whose parents were separated, and who was left alone much of the time. This child lived NOWHERE NEAR ME, unlike Dan’s version of the story. He had been giving the child and some of the child’s friends quarters, and bought them ice cream from Dairy Queen.
Dan had also performed magic tricks for the youths, and had borrowed bones from the biology department to show to the child (I have since learned that these are all well known lures for pedophiles). Then, Dan had been seen wrestling with the child outside the child’s home by a family friend, who had stopped by unexpectedly. Dan had run away.
When the adult had turned in a complaint to the local police, Dan was identified from the book of suspects.
Choosing to See the Ugly Truth
I sat there in stunned silence, listening to the facts. They were telling me the TRUTH…something I should have had the sense to seek out weeks before. They were even joking about it, saying, “Yea, he even apparently has a girlfriend now…he told us that he had to cut through the kid’s yard to get to her house (Dan had lied again). We don’t know who she is, but we’ll find out.”
When I informed them that I was the girlfriend, they sat in silence. I told them that I had no idea.
They also told me to watch out, as he had some “other things’ in his background that made him dangerous. I’m sure they thought I was stupid, as you probably do from reading this. Believe me, this whole experience was like a bad dream, and it sent my self-esteem into a downward spiral for a long, long time. Writing about it now, even after all of these years, still makes me feel numb.
The good part about learning the truth from some people I could really trust was that I could no longer lie to myself. I had denied my gut feelings for too long. Well, I decided that night that my collusion with this sick person was at an end.
The Leopard’s Spots
That evening, I asked Dan to resign from the student group which was going to affiliate with the police department. He didn’t want to (not surprising…being in our group helped him keep up appearances and let him feel closer to his old life as a corrections officer). He asked me why, and I told him honestly what the police had said. He hung up on me. I knew then that he had been counting on me to continue to provide him access to the position of trust and authority that pedophiles crave, in order to seek out new victims. Like a leopard showing his spots, the truth of what he was hit me fully.
The vote for the student EMT Association to become a non-transport Basic Life Support Service was the next night. Incredibly, Dan accepted a position of authority when he was nominated. I tried to tell them that he could not accept the position, without saying why. I was still trying to protect him…why, I do not know. I learned later that before the meeting, he told some of the students that I was on some kind of power trip and that they shouldn’t vote to affiliate with the police department (of course, it was because he would lose his affiliation with the group, and hence, his access to children in the uniform of an EMT).
But, they did vote to merge, and the next day, Dan turned in his resignation letter. Then, he made good on his word began to run a smear campaign against me and my reputation.
Believing I had to protect myself, I told my boss, the Department Chair (and a friend of Dan’s) about the whole thing. He informed me that Dan had rights; that I had to be very careful not to tread on his right to an education. Therefore I was to remain silent about what I knew.
Meanwhile, Dan said whatever he wanted to against me. I found out that the other students had been told by Dan that I was simply a scorned woman. If only!
I found out Dan had been having regular dinners/evenings over with one of the Moms in the group, a kind person with two children in the home. Dan was regularly playing computer games with her son.
As soon as she told me that, something in me changed.
Finally, I had enough of being on the defense.
Fighting Back
I went to the library, and got the articles of his crimes from the archives. I showed them to the members of the group, many of whom were now believing that poor Dan had been wronged by the big bad advisor.
I started showing the articles around campus. I informed the executive board, and the president (also a female who was good friends with Dan) felt that Dan was the victim and needed support. I could see clearly that she was now in the same mind frame as I had been, and there was nothing I could say to change her mind.
The semester went on, and I learned in the department that Dan was slated for an internship which would include helping teach sexuality education in a high school. Except for the department chair, who knew Dan’s background, I was the only one in the department who knew that Dan had no business being in or near any school, and I felt that I had a responsibility to make sure he didn’t get that chance.
I told everyone who might need to know, who might have children which Dan would have possibly have contact with. I told the other students in his classes. I told the internship coordinator, who had not been informed by the Chair of the department.
I had been so tired of watching Dan’s lies and deceits that it was as if a dam had burst forth. Anger and betrayal and disgust at the person he really was pouring over my initial desire to protect the friend and victim my skewed memory and desire to see the best in people told me he had been.
I replayed our times together and saw his manipulation and child hunting behaviors in a whole new light.
Living in Fear
Dan began following me. He would stare at me in the hallway. He walked in front of my house. He cornered me in the EMT room to tell me verbally that he would ruin my life & my reputation. I admit that I called him a four letter word (something I was reprimanded for later by my boss, but which I’m pretty proud of). He tried to tell me, basically, that others would see me as being just like him and that I would be thought of as he.
I asked the police for help (this was before there was a stalking law), and they told me to be really careful, but other than increased patrols, they could do nothing.
My boss (the Department Chair) told me that I had no right to have him kept away from the building, or from even talking to me whenever he decided to when I was on campus.
I got a FOID (Firearm Owners Identification Card), and a gun, and had a police officer who was also a personal friend teach me how to use it. I put up motion lights around my home. I got a dog who barked at the littlest noise. I had steel doors and framing put in. I felt threatened in a way that I had never experienced before. I learned what it was like to live in fear, and now I know how victims of violence must feel.
I received absolutely NO support from my boss, who wanted me to keep quiet. But, I continued to tell everyone. I called the Illinois Department of Public Health (the regulatory body for EMT licensure), and told them. I asked the official if they could yank Dan’s EMT license. I was told “unless he is caught doing it in the back of an ambulance, there is nothing we can do to him.’
I swear on my life that this is what I was told. My world view as an idealist was completely destroyed.
It was a hard lesson in life for me to learn that criminals have more rights in our country than children. I also learned, incredibly enough, that Dan had GOTTEN HIS EMT LICENSE AS PART OF HIS REHABILITATION WHILE IN PRISON!
There is a program which supplies EMTs for a town in Illinois through a local prison. According to the IDPH, “no sex offenders are SUPPOSED to be eligible’. Yet, no background checks are done, or at least, none were at that time.
When I pointed out to the IDPH official that Dan could conceivably end up working in an ambulance where he could victimize someone else, the reply I got was, “well, opefully whoever hires him will run a background check first.”
I can tell you, at least from my experience, that there are quite a few volunteer services who lack the resources to do even the most basic background check. So, God only knows how many like Dan are out there waiting for their chance.
Also, I turned the tables on Dan. I rode my motorcycle around town, and watched him as he watched kids play basketball at the YMCA. I rode past him when he went into the liquor store. I gave him the eye as he sat on playgrounds, and called the police numerous times when I saw him near children. Despite being ordered not to, I informed the risk management officials at WIU that Dan was about to be given free access to teaching sexuality as his internship.
As it turns out, I had finally pressed the right alarm button (a tip for others out there struggling with the same issues). The university officials felt that there was a risk to them, since they now knew about it. So, they made my boss make “alternative arrangements’ for Dan. I find it very sad that the university did not prevent him from being put in a position like that because it was wrong, but because it carried the risk of them getting sued if he did something. Such are the ethics of a public institution.
Here is perhaps the most incredible part of this whole twisted tale. The department chair made up his own internship, refused to allow the other faculty members input, and did not inform any of them of what he had done until it was well over. This is completely against what is allowed for even our best, brightest students, but because Dan was a criminal, he was afforded greater opportunities than any of the other, much more deserving students.
Fortune Smiles on the Monster
Dan did an internship that I’m certain child molesters can only dream about.
For 8 hours a day, over the course of a few weeks, Daniel J. Rappe was placed in front of a computer, and given free access to chat room and bulletin boards. His internship was answering health (including sexuality) related questions under the guise of being a “student health educator’ from Western Illinois University.
Even now, I wonder how many contacts he made during that time that he has used since to continue in his perversion. The question has haunted me all these years.
Of course, Dan did not sit idly by while I brought the truth to light. He levied a charge of sexual harassment against me. He wrote a scathing letter about our relationship, including the details of our sex life. I had to give my statement to the university officials, some of whom were (thankfully) very nice and supportive. I will not go into those details except to state that I was in a consenting relationship with a person who was 4 years my senior (turns out he had lied about that and was a LOT older than even that). He would NEVER have taken any of my courses, and I certainly was in no position to demand a ‘quid pro quo’. He had little to lose by making my life miserable, and everything to gain by scaring me into silence.
I do not apologize for anything I said about him then or since, as I have one thing on my side to seek sheltering comfort in, and that is truth. My life is an open book, and I have nothing to hide from others. He will always have to lie, cheat, misdirect, and when those sins fail to keep him safe, move.
Epilogue
You may wonder why I am writing this now, after all of this time. The answers are threefold.
One- I had a difficult time coming to terms with that time in my life, and I think writing this article has helped me put closure on a lot of unresolved issues. I still have a lot of healing to do, but trying to let you readers know to watch out for this man helps.
Two- I just left my job at the university, and now I am not bound by contract nor fear of losing my position.
Three- The third reason is because I just found out that Dan is in hiding and they are looking for him for yet another crime. What he did, I do not know. I am afraid to find out. I hope they find him.
My life is much different now. I am a healthier, happier person. I learned many things from my experience with this relationship. I learned that I trust too easily, and ignore my instincts too much.
I also learned that I had a self-destructive attraction to excitement in my life, and believe me when I say that being in that type of relationship provides much excitement. I also learned that I have a rescue type of personality, and that there are some people for whom no amount of love, patience, or effort will change.
I am now married, and have a wonderful husband who has no police record. I trust my gut a lot more, and it has really saved me sometimes. I am not afraid. I love life again, and I am not silenced. I thank God every day for my life, and the good counseling and help I received to break both my addiction to excitement, and my attraction to sick men.
I know Dan will molest again, if he has not already done so. I also believe that he will not go to prison again if he can help it. I believe that he will kill his next victim, for I have seen the violence in his eyes, and his fear at the mention of being locked up. I think he will find a victim, and say to himself, “oh no, he’s going to talk, and if he talks I’ll get caught.”
I pray I am wrong.
8/10/10 - I never mentioned it in these posts, but Dan once recounted to me a story where he had suffered what now would likely be called a “Traumatic Brain Injury.” He recounted that, when in gym class, he had been hit in the temple by a medicine ball, rendered unconscious for the rest of the period, and suffered confusion for days afterwards. In his exact words, “You could have told me I was a chicken, and I would have thought I was a chicken.”
I’ll post new memories here as I recover them.
Next: A Life Changed…
2 Responses
Patricia - Spiritual Journey Of A Lightworker - June 21, 2009
Thank you for writing all of them and posting it for others to see. The silence is what allows the abuse to go on happening over and over again to other innocent children.
Kathryn White - March 20, 2010
Thank you for being brave enough to tell your story. You will never know whose child you may have saved.
Kat
Leave a Reply