Bealnamulla resident tells of abuse as a child

Athlone represented a kind of paradise for John Meehan, in contrast to the incredible darkness he had experienced before being put on a bus and sent to the town at the age of 17. John is a victim of physical and sexual abuse which occurred during years spent at an orphanage in Derry in the 1950s and early 1960s. "It's a part of your life that you carry with you, day after day. It's like a bag of coal on your back," he said of the abuse. "You carry it constantly. Other people have more horrific stories than I have. You wonder how they are able to function with such stories in their hearts." Now 62-years-old, he has decided to speak publicly about his experience in order to let other abuse sufferers know that there are people who will listen and offer support. "There are a lot of people out there who are still very broken," he said. "Hopefully, by getting the story out they will come forward, tell their own stories and get redress." An ex-member of the Defence Forces, who retired from Custume Barracks in 1997, John is originally from Mountcharles in county Donegal. Recounting his childhood, he said he had "a good life" until the age of eight, when both his parents died within a few months, resulting in John, his brother and sister each being sent to separate care facilities. In June 1956 was placed in an orphanage, the Termonbacca Boys' Home in Derry, run by the Sisters of Nazareth. Although he "wasn't battered that much" during his first two years there, it was not unusual for him to see other boys being violently punished for "wetting the bed." John said his innocence was shattered when, at the age of ten, he was sexually abused by an older boy in a shed. In the immediate aftermath, he disappeared onto a farm, which bordered the orphanage, for four days. "I was eating raw turnips and apples or whatever I could get my hands on. Then, after hunger set in, I came back." A few days later, one of the nuns asked him what had happened, and he told her of the abuse. "That guy who abused me was like a pike being thrown into a goldfish bowl that was full of fish. I am not, by any means, the only one he abused," he recalled Two weeks after the abuse, John was called into a room by another nun. "She started beating me with the legs of a chair. And she didn't stop until she couldn't physically beat me any more. She was vicious beyond belief. Other nuns would beat you with a belt or a stick, or cues from a snooker table. You took the beating and that was it. But being beaten with the leg of a chair was different." What John believes are consequences of this beating came to light in 1995 when he was being treated for a hearing problem which required an operation. The specialist asked him at the time if his parents were "rough on him" growing up, as bones in his ear were fused together - an injury which it was suggested would have occurred in his childhood. On hearing this, John's mind instantly turned back to that beating he received from the nun. "I was 12 weeks getting over it. When they sent me to school afterwards they sent me off in a black polo neck, to hide the bruises." In 1961 he was transferred from the orphanage in Derry to Nazareth Lodge in Belfast, where he slept in the attic of a gymnasium and had virtually no contact with others. He now recalls a couple of strokes of great fortune in his life which were like "winning the lottery." The first was when, in 1964, aged 17, he was dressed up in a dark green suit, a shirt and a pair of sandals, and sent on a bus to Athlone. "I didn't even have dust in my pockets," he said. He was given a letter to hand in at Custume Barracks. Despite not having any identification, he was "taken in at the Barracks, given sandwiches, cake and tea and was shown to a dry bed in a warm room." "It was Heaven. You couldn't actually believe it," he remembered. John then had what he described as "my real childhood" at the Barracks in Athlone from the ages of 17 to 23. "The Army sometimes sent you out to Carna to run around and fire guns and go over obstacles. You know, how good does it get? You ate, slept, drank, played handball, went to the gym, and nobody ever chastised you for doing something wrong. The Army treated you as a person, and I'd never had that. "When the Army got me they had the rawest of the raw and it's the Army that made me what I am." He happily recalled that the second "lottery win" in his life came when he met his future wife - Athlone native Pauline - and her large and welcoming family. However, contact with his own brother and sister had been severed completely when he was first sent to the orphanage in Derry. He didn't meet his brother again until 1988, and didn't see his sister from 1959 to 1995. Following such a long separation, he said it was impossible to establish any kind of normal relationship with these siblings. John and Pauline, who married in 1972, spent ten years in England, where he worked in construction. They returned to Athlone in 1980 as this was where they wished their three children, Darren, Benny and Laura, to be educated. In 1982 John rejoined the Army where he served for the next fifteen years with the 4th Field Engineers, until his retirement. He is now one of the main activists with a Victims and Survivors group which was founded last year and has already held meetings with the Bishop of Derry, Seamus Hegarty, and Cardinal Sean Brady. John described these meetings as "little steps on the ladder towards getting what you want to achieve... the whole thing is to get doors opened so that people will listen." The group is hoping to meet with Northern Ireland's political leaders, Peter Robinson and Martin McGuinness, in the coming weeks in order to discuss the care needs of those who have been abused, and the issue of compensation. "There are people who need apartments, hospital care..... There are people who need a lot of things. "Over the last year I've met a colossal amount of people who are just so broken. It hasn't been a nice time, the last year." After one meeting with victims in Belfast, John cried as soon as he got home to Pauline. "It was probably the first time in my life that I broke down. It wasn't over me, but over the people I had met," he said. "I look at the life I have and it's fantasy compared to some people who are so broken and who need help so badly." Through telling his own personal story, John hopes others will come forward to seek the help which they need. "It's about getting the story out there. The people who left the orphanage are spread all over. So it's about getting the word out and letting them know that there's people out there for them," he concluded