Sunday, 17 March 2024

‘I was just 11 when my life was ripped apart’ — survivor of sexual abuse at industrial school seeks justice

William Gorry’s father cut a sad figure when a social worker came and took his son away.

It was the late 1970s, and the 11-year-old William was being sent to join two of his brothers and three of his sisters at Mount Carmel Industrial School in Moate, Co Westmeath, run by the ­Sisters of Mercy.

As he was being driven away, the boy felt a jolt of concern towards his father, sitting alone on a bridge in rural Offaly. He worried about how his dad would fare on his own.

“Both of my parents were good people and good parents. They just couldn’t cope.

"They had 13 children and should’ve had help and support from the then health board to keep us together, rather than taking all us younger children away,” William (57) told the Sunday Independent.

The health board took the six youngest children away. We were told we were going on ‘holidays.’

“As soon as I got to Mount Carmel, the violence began almost straight away. I said: ‘I’m worried about leaving my daddy on his own’ and I was hit. I was told he didn’t care about us, that he didn’t love us. That was just the beginning.”

William’s mother had recently left the family, overwhelmed by the financial and emotional pressures of trying to raise 13 children without enough money.

“I don’t blame my mother for what happened. She was having a difficult time. I re-established contact with my mother in later years.

"We had no running water, no electricity and there was fighting. It was a tough life,” William said.

“The health board took the six youngest children away. We were told we were going on ‘our holidays’. My older brothers and sisters were ­married or able to take care of themselves. Being taken was the worst thing that could have happened.”

​William, who is visually impaired since birth, was sexually, physically and emotionally abused during his 10 years living at the industrial school.

The DPP ruled last year that there was insufficient evidence to bring criminal charges against a number of people — including a nun, priests and lay people — accused of physical and sexual abuse, including rape.

Some of the alleged abuse also took place when he was part of a local ­voluntary group, run by the clergy, in the locality.

Another incident occurred when he was sent on his “holidays” to a family in the Wexford countryside to get a “break” from the industrial school.

William was awarded a sum of money years ago through the redress scheme, which he feels was “entirely insufficient”, given what he suffered.

“I found the redress scheme demeaning and belittling. It was a pittance awarded to all of us, considering what we went through. It was a cheap way of getting us out of the way,” he said.

It has never been about money, William continued, but instead about people responsible for his abuse being criminally held to account.

In recent years he made complaints against a number of people for alleged physical and sexual abuse while he was in the care of the State.

Gardaí investigated and sent an extensive file to the DPP, who ruled no criminal charges should follow.

William, who now lives in Dublin, is represented by Belfast-based solicitor Kevin Winters, of KRW law. The firm recently sought a review from the DPP on why it opted not to prosecute the alleged abusers.

The DPP outlines that it is standing by its decision not to issue criminal proceedings.

‘I was constantly told that I was useless… they told me no one would ever love me.’

“To say I am disappointed would be an understatement. I am totally gutted. I just cannot understand how no prosecution was issued, given the evidence presented by the gardaí,” William said.

“I am not prepared to let this go. I am considering a judicial review of the DPP’s findings, which would be costly — but I feel I must do this, if I can raise the money.

“What happened to me as a child had a huge negative emotional impact on my life. I’ve found it hard to find happiness. My life was ripped apart.”

​He remembers his life at Mount ­Carmel clearly and still suffers flashbacks.

When he arrived age 11, he was given two sets of clothes that he was warned must last a year, and assigned a number: 217.

“I was constantly told that I was useless, stupid, blind. They told me no one would ever love me or want me. The physical abuse was constant. I was beaten around the head and had my head smashed against walls constantly.

“Doctors have told me since that my visual impairment got worse because of the beatings. I am now in danger of going permanently blind,” he explained.

The abuse was so severe at Mount Carmel that he tried to end his own life on a few occasions.

“It was the only way I could think of sometimes to try and get the beatings and sexual abuse to end. I often felt like I couldn’t go on.”

Every day, it was his responsibility to wash and dress his little brother ­Thomas, who was severely disabled and had brittle bone disease. It was also up to him to feed his brother.

But worse than any of the physical and emotional abuse was “undoubtedly” the sustained sexual abuse he suffered.

In one harrowing incident, he recalls being raped, alongside Thomas, by two members of the clergy who “took turns” after isolating the brothers in an upstairs room over a weekend. He was 14, Thomas was around seven.

Not long after, Thomas was taken to Lourdes and never returned.

William was told his brother passed away but has “never gotten any information since” about the circumstances of his death.

William suffered “countless” other instances of rape and sexual abuse over the years, by priests as well as lay people.

“It happened so many times that I just got used to it. I felt as though it was going to continue my entire life. It was as if I was constantly trying to fight my way out of it, but I couldn’t.”

When he turned 16, he was permitted to leave the school. But with nowhere to go, he stayed, remaining in “aftercare”.

“I stayed until I was about 21, working there. I didn’t know what else to do, where to go. I eventually left, and was homeless for a while.”

Eventually he found happiness and married Patrick in November 2022.

After a number of years, he moved to Dublin and tried to deal with the past. He was also struggling with his sexual identity and eventually accepted he was gay. He had issues finding employment, given the lack of education he received, as well as his worsening eyesight.

After “years of struggling and bad relationships”, he found happiness and married Patrick in November 2022.

“I cannot give Patrick enough credit, I owe a lot to him,” he said.

In 2017, he set up RISN (Residential Institutions Survivors Network), which has over 500 members. Its objective is to help others who have gone through the same experience.

“The truth is, if RISN wasn’t around, I don’t think I’d still be here. I’ll keep fighting for my own justice too.”

When contacted, the DPP’s office said it does not comment on individual cases but that where possible it attempts to explain to victims its reasons when it does not prosecute. The Sisters of Mercy were also contacted for comment.

​The national 24-hour Rape Crisis helpline is 1800 77 8888