Bruins’ Kennedy a Beacon for Victims of Sexual Abuse

BOSTON — The letters came in thick, heavy piles, about a thousand a week at first. There have been too many letters for Sheldon Kennedy to count, but never so many that he will become inured to the horrifying tales they tell. He knows their stories all too well, because he lived them.

From teenagers to 50-year-olds, the letter writers reveal their darkest secrets. Like Kennedy, who in January disclosed he had been sexually abused by his junior hockey coach more than 300 times over a 10-year period, they also had been violated by someone they trusted. Their lives were clouded by an anger they couldn’t understand, their self-esteem shattered by shame.

Unable to voice the unmentionable, they suffered in silence until Kennedy gave them the courage to speak.

“It’s remarkable the amount of support, not only for myself but for the topic of [combating] sexual abuse,” said Kennedy, who passed through the Detroit and Calgary organizations before joining the Boston Bruins last season. “When you’re being abused, you tend to think you’re alone, you’re in it by yourself. I never had an inkling how much of this goes on in our society. That’s the biggest surprise to me, how prominent it is.”

Although he’s gratified his disclosure made it easier for other victims to confront their past--and led to his nomination for the Masterton Trophy, to be awarded today at the NHL awards banquet to the player who best exemplifies the qualities of perseverance, sportsmanship and dedication to hockey--his frankness created new problems. That’s because with every well-intentioned expression of sympathy he receives and every interview he does, he relives his nightmares.

Kennedy, 28, is almost as much a prisoner as is Graham James, who is serving a 3 1/2-year sentence in a Canadian jail after pleading guilty to two counts of abuse against Kennedy and another unnamed player. Kennedy is still seeking professional and emotional equilibrium, still fighting old demons. He knows those demons can be held in abeyance, but they might never vanish.

“The hardest thing about being abused is to get people to understand the way you feel. It’s not like a broken arm. You can’t see the hurt and the problem,” said Kennedy, who was inspired to take action by the birth of his daughter, Ryan, now 17 months old. “It’s a love and trust problem. The amount of shame that comes takes its toll.

“The biggest part for me is now I understand why I feel the way I feel. Before I felt like I was just a weird guy. I understand it better now, and when you understand why you feel a certain way, it’s easier to deal with.”

Easier, but not simple. He can be skittish around people until he feels he can trust them, and he often backs out of interviews several times before keeping his word. When he does speak, however, his honesty is gut-wrenching.

“It’s going to take other victims time [to come forward]. The whole point is to get help,” he said. “It’s not so much people coming forward with names. It’s my choice to come forward. I don’t expect anyone else to do it.”

Eager to avoid the appearance of making money off his misfortune, he declined to be a guest on Geraldo Rivera’s talk show but agreed to an interview on a TV newsmagazine. Plans for a book fell through, but he has a tentative deal for a TV movie about his life that would educate kids. Still, he’s moving slowly as he encounters new psychological barriers.

“Ever since he was 14 years old, he was out of control. Graham James was in control of his life and what he did was drink and party,” said his agent, former NHL defenseman Tom Laidlaw. “Now he wants to be in total control, but you can’t just flip a switch and be in total control.

“Sometimes you just have to step back and say, ‘Let’s realize what this guy’s been through.’ All in all, he’s been pretty good.”

The good days outnumber the bad. He missed much of the season to pursue his case against James and so played only 56 games, getting eight goals and 18 points. A slight but speedy right wing, he has become an excellent penalty killer, and he led the Bruins with four short-handed goals.

Since the season ended, he has spent most of his time working with the Sheldon Kennedy Foundation, which he established to help victims of abuse get counseling and repair relationships with their families. A Canadian businessman gave him the deed to a 65-acre tract in the mountains of British Columbia, where he plans to develop a ranch where abused children and their families can retreat and receive professional counseling. He couldn’t do this even a few months ago, he said, because, “It’s too much when I still have to deal with my own garbage inside. People think when you come forward, all the garbage comes out, but I’ve still got a lot of work to do. It took a long time to get to where I was.”

He was a lonely kid, unable to get along with his stern parents, and he grabbed the chance to play for the junior team in Swift Current, Saskatchewan. His parents never thought twice, because it’s common for Canadian boys to leave home and play in distant towns to further their hockey prospects.

He was first victimized when he was 14. James had total sway over Kennedy’s career and soon had equal influence over his life.

“The coach is so respected. Your parents send you away and say, ‘Do what he says.’ At that age, you listen. That’s your first step if you want to play pro,” Kennedy said. “He was really a nice guy. He did his thing. He didn’t have to scare you, although he had a shotgun when he was laying in bed [the first time James abused him].

“They just know you’re in such a scared position. You absolutely have no clue about what to do. A lot of people probably think, ‘Why don’t you just kick him or run away?’ but you can’t. You’re vulnerable.”

Unable to express his fear and revulsion, Kennedy began drinking to numb his feelings. He scored more than 100 points in his last two junior seasons but was known as a troublemaker. James propagated that image after Kennedy was drafted by the Detroit Red Wings in 1988, telling them Kennedy was wild and only he could keep Kennedy in line.

Jimmy Devellano, the Red Wings’ senior vice president for hockey operations, saw nothing in James but an apparently friendly desire to steer a wayward boy onto a better path.

“I liked Sheldon. He was a good kid. He had good speed and he was feisty, but we had a problem with his drinking,” Devellano said. “I remember me personally taking him out to a rehab place in Denver to try to get his drinking straightened out. I had a lot of conversations with Sheldon. Some were soft and some were me giving him holy hell. I did not detect anything suspicious.

“Graham James’ name would come up in the conversations and Sheldon never indicated to me at any time that there was any problem. Graham used to call me [and ask], ‘Is Sheldon in trouble again?’ He always seemed very concerned.”

Said Kennedy: “He always put me down. It was amazing. He was such a smart, manipulative guy. He manipulated a lot of people, press and parents and people in hockey.”

Despite a 19-goal season in 1992-93, the Red Wings gave up on him and traded him to Winnipeg in 1994. Calgary claimed him on waivers but let him go as a free agent last summer. By then, he had begun the process that would enable him find some peace.

After a playoff game last spring, he told several Calgary teammates he had been abused; shocked, they advised him to get professional help. He saw a psychologist and filed charges against James, who was coach, general manager and part-owner of a junior team in Calgary. Kennedy also asked Laidlaw to represent him, having gotten Laidlaw’s name from a former Detroit teammate, Dallas Drake.

“I said to Dallas at the time, ‘What am I getting myself into?’ ” Laidlaw said. “Dallas saw him as a fun-loving young man, troubled, but not really a bad guy. Dallas didn’t know anything about the abuse. He said, ‘He’s a great kid and if you work with him, you could probably help him.’

“When Sheldon first called me last spring, he told me he wanted to save his reputation and I basically told him he had to straighten out. The next time he called, he told me about the abuse. It made the first conversation seem silly. . . . I didn’t understand what was going on.”

Devellano doesn’t understand why Kennedy didn’t act sooner. “The biggest surprise is the length of time from the time he left junior [in 1989]. Nothing ever seemed to surface [in the interim],” Devellano said. “And I knew Graham James. I know Graham James. I don’t know. It’s all a little confusing.”

Kennedy sees the lapse as short, having heard from victims who waited longer--or have yet to speak. “You look at a lot of people that are 50 years old and starting to come forward and deal with it now. A lot of people live with it,” he said. “I talk to psychologists, and they think it’s good I came out with it pretty quickly. I didn’t have family or close friends to tell.”

NHL players were quick to support him and many have donated money to his foundation. “I wasn’t really sure what the reaction was going to be. It’s a life issue, not a hockey issue. People understand that,” he said.

He also inspired others to seek justice. Citing Kennedy, Martin Kruze of Toronto brought to light a pedophile ring that operated in Maple Leaf Gardens over three decades. Complaints were filed by nearly 50 alleged victims and two arrests were made. “It’s amazing and frightening,” Kennedy said, “yet I’m ecstatic about being able to make a mark on this sort of thing.”

Someday, he will tell his daughter about the agony he endured and how she unwittingly helped him set himself free.

“My life was very unorganized, but once my daughter was born, I knew I had to do something to get my life where I wanted it to be. I just felt it was the right thing to do,” he said. “I felt I was put on this earth for a reason, put in the NHL for a reason. I had to make this stand.”