I had a very tumultuous childhood, it was full of domestic violence. Broken glass, busted walls, furniture thrown, mother being beaten in front of us. We ended up leaving in June of 1964. We moved into a third floor tenement apartment and the landlady had an 18 year old son named Martin. I was 8 years old, he became like my best friend. One Friday night I can remember him taking me out back to a car, he got me into the back seat and forced me to perform oral sex on him. He looked at me and said, “Ricky you can’t tell anybody, because first of all nobody’s gonna believe you and secondly if you do tell somebody, you’re gonna have no place to live.” It happened two more times and I never told anybody. It was always in the back of my mind, but it never started bothering me until I became a police officer. I started responding to these domestic violence situations, I started investigating these sexual assault cases and I would go home at night and sit in a chair and I would shake. But I thought, how am I gonna skin this cat, and I realized, I’m gonna skin it through my law enforcement career. And that’s what I do. It’s not easy sometimes. Every child interview I go to, I can relate exactly to what they’re going through, and my heart breaks, but I know they depend on me to get their relief and that’s why I make sure that I give 110% of my god given ability as an investigator. Out of the detective division I’m probably the busiest. I tell you it’s everywhere. One of the ways to accept it is to go out and help other people. If my story can help her, and her story can help this person, and that person, it makes us stronger and by making us stronger we can fix this thing.