Domestic violence: Their words, our awareness

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Updated: August 4, 2011 4:20PM

Susan Johnson picked an appropriate day to begin a new job.

Friday, her first day in the role as coordinator for Elgin’s Community Crisis Center’s domestic violence program, also was the beginning of Domestic Violence Awareness Month. She and her co-workers will have their hands full maintaining a shelter that, like most social agencies in this financially insolvent state, is trying to keep its doors open.

Certainly the economy doesn’t help. In addition to empty coffers in Springfield, lack of jobs contribute to pressures that can lead to problems in households across all our communities. And because the economic landscape is so bleak, her concern is that, more than ever, women are staying in abusive relationships because they feel there simply is no place else to go.

With less money and greater need, it’s time to get back to basics, say Johnson and Gretchen Vapnar, the center’s executive director. What that means is an aggressive outreach program that empowers more of this community’s gatekeepers — church officials, law enforcement, school teachers and counselors — to serve as the eyes and ears of a program determined to let victims know there is, indeed, a way out.

So yes, Johnson has a lot to say on this first day of October. And throughout this month, there will be a series of programs and events that will draw attention to this sobering issue.

But it’s also important to let others speak about domestic violence — in this case, the victims themselves.

In the coming weeks, The Courier-News will share online the stories of Kane County women who have been able to break the bond that held them prisoners, both emotionally and physically. They are powerful tales of oppression, survival, renewal. But none is more sobering than today’s words from Patty Rosenberg, who considers herself a victim since Feb. 3, 1998.

That’s the day the Batavia woman’s daughter, Andrea Will, died at the hands of her ex-boyfriend. Justin Boulay, who was from St. Charles, strangled her with a telephone cord in his off-campus apartment at Eastern Illinois University, where he and Will were students.

Although the murder was 12 years ago and Boulay is now serving a 24-year prison sentence. it’s obvious from Rosenberg’s words that time does not necessarily heal all wounds.

Rosenberg, who volunteers her time at Mutual Ground, Aurora’s domestic abuse shelter, had agreed to talk to me last week about her daughter’s death, but declined at the last minute because the pain is still so raw. Her written words, however, are powerful enough, as are all the stories we will share throughout the month.

Domestic violence, as these women well know, transcends all racial and socio-economic boundaries. But their abusers have common denominators: a need to control and a propensity toward anger and violence.

Unlike Andrea — who “was in a casket on her 19th birthday” — the victims you will read about in the coming weeks escaped with their lives. And by working with counselors and advocates, they are beginning to piece their lives back together. They want their stories heard because these survivors all understand that awareness of the problem is the first step toward curtailing it.

A grieving mother says it best: “You may know of someone who needs help. Talk to them. Don’t be afraid. You may be saving a life.”

Victim for life

By Pattie Rosenberg

I am profoundly grateful to be the voice of my daughter, Andrea Faye Will. Andrea is unable to speak to you as a survivor. She died 12 years ago, a victim of domestic violence.

The day my daughter Andrea left for college in the fall of 1997 was one of the proudest days of my life. When I left her dorm room after a day of packing, unpacking and settling in, I didn’t realize that she would only be spending one semester there. I didn’t realize that when she came home for Christmas that year that I would never see her again. Her ex-boyfriend made sure of that.

In early February, he lured Andrea to his apartment on the pretense that although they were no longer seeing each other, and he was leaving school, he wanted to give her a birthday present before he left. An argument ensued and my daughter fought for her life for the four and a half minutes it took her to die from strangulation by a telephone cord.

My daughter was in a casket on her 19th birthday. It took only one act of violence to take her life.

There are thousands of women who suffer from some act of violence as a part of their daily lives. You may know of someone who needs help. Talk to them. Don’t be afraid. You may be saving a life.

I am only a survivor because I have outlived my oldest child. I am a victim because I have been tortured every day since February 3, 1998.

dcrosby@stmedianetwork.com