Jill Porter | One morning, 30 years later, a sudden memory of betrayal
A FIREHOUSE filled with ladders, engines and firefighting gear is irresistible to young boys. And that's how a longtime Philadelphia firefighter, now retired, allegedly lured four neighborhood boys into a relationship that turned into hundreds of rapes and sexual assaults over a period of decades.
A FIREHOUSE filled with
ladders, engines and firefighting gear is irresistible to young boys.
And that's how a longtime Philadelphia firefighter, now retired, allegedly lured four neighborhood boys into a relationship that turned into hundreds of rapes and sexual assaults over a period of decades.
In an incredibly sorrowful twist, three of those boys were brothers - and each brother didn't discover the others had been abused until more than 30 years later.
The brothers lived near the firehouse at 11th and Louden streets, in the city's Logan section, and visited frequently. They were allowed to climb on the trucks and "try on firefighters' air tanks, boots and other firefighting equipment," according to court documents.
The firefighter gradually insinuated himself into their lives - and allegedly began sexually assaulting them, when each of them was 7 or 8 years old.
It was only two years ago that the brothers learned they'd all been victimized; that's when they went to the district attorney's office.
Rhanel Roberts, 63, who was a firefighter for 26 years until he retired in 1992, was arrested and charged with multiple counts of rape, sexual assault, endangering the welfare of children and other charges.
The trial is scheduled to begin later this month.
Roberts was extradited from Port St. Lucie, Fla., where he'd been living and working as a janitor at an elementary school. He's being held without bail.
The case added another victim when a childhood friend of the brothers who is now 33 testified at a preliminary hearing yesterday that he, too, was raped when he was about 7 years old.
Roberts, a slight man with gray hair and beard, was wearing a sweater and appeared meek as he sat silently next to his defense attorney, Thomas McGill, at yesterday's hearing.
That demeanor must have helped as he allegedly exploited the allure of his profession to prey on vulnerable young boys.
Somehow, even in the aftermath of the priest scandal in the Catholic Church, it seems shocking.
Firefighters are among the last professionals we regard as noble, now that priests, police, politicians, teachers, lawyers - even astronauts - have been sullied by one scandal or another.
Roberts' alleged crimes, then, are not only vile attacks on individuals, but an assault on his profession and an affront to the city he was supposed to be serving.
Two of the alleged assaults, for God's sake, took place in the firehouse.
The oldest brother, James, 37, told me he was awakened from a dead sleep one night two years ago by the memory of being sexually assaulted - which he'd had no recollection of prior to that.
He soon discovered that two
of his siblings were Roberts' alleged victims, too.
(James said I could use his last name, but I chose not to, since that would inadvertently disclose his siblings' identities. We don't publish the names of rape victims without permission.)
James said that Roberts sought out children without fathers - James' own parents were divorced - so he could "infiltrate and manipulate."
Roberts "ingratiated himself to the family, establishing a relationship of trust and authority based upon his status as a Philadelphia firefighter," a court document said.
He'd take the brothers bike- riding, camping, on trips to amusement parks and elsewhere, and often bring them back to his home.
It's called "grooming"- softening up the victim, gaining his trust, lowering his resistance with attention, favors and fun.
Then Roberts allegedly moved in on his prey.
Defense attorney McGill said he had no comment except to say:
"Thirty years?" with a skeptical look, referring to how long it took the brothers and their friend to report the rapes.
But the priest scandal taught us that it's commonplace for victims of authority figures not to tell anyone - out of fear they won't be believed, out of guilt and humiliation, and even sometimes out of the warped loyalty the predator deliberately elicits.
"He was a fireman; he was like an authoritative figure to me," one of the brothers told police when asked why he hadn't reported the abuse.
"He was like a big deal to me, not only that he gave me things - but he was like a father figure to me."
How sad. How sick. How urgent that justice be done. *
E-mail porterj@phillynews.com or call 215-854-5850. For recent columns: