The Second Rape of Dr. Emily Pershing - C6

Chapter 6

The Accounts of Dr. Emily Pershing

August 5, 1972

War Memorial Hospital (WMH) - Leesville, Louisiana

My name is Dr. Emily Pershing. I am forty-two years old and have been a nurse for almost twenty years. I’ve been a doctor for almost three months now, having graduated after years of studying to become such. I have been hired at Piedmont Hospital in Atlanta. Today, I am twenty-seven days late for work. Some eight months ago, while I was on duty as a nurse here at WMH, a young girl was admitted. She’s been back in several times since then. With the help of her medical files, I’ll do my best to recollect the accounts of her visits. She won’t be here much longer. Could go either way. But one way or the other, I’ll be here with her til she’s gone. Right now, all we can do is wait. I have specific instructions in case things go bad. This is Gabby’s story.

December 13, 1971

WMH

Gabrielle Martaugh was admitted by Vernon Parish Sheriff’s Deputies Warren and Shatemer at 20:34 hours the previous night, Sunday. Deputy Warren, a female, stayed with Gabrielle as long as she could. I remember her shift ended at midnight, so she stayed with her. Held her hand. She was able to get a birthday out of her. 16. It was a slow night. We couldn’t reach her parents to get consent to treat her. It wasn’t for lack of trying. She wouldn’t give us any information other than her own name. The deputy and I explained to her that we couldn’t do anything for her unless she told us how to get ahold of them.

Somebody had beat her up pretty good. Scared the pants off her I thought. We both feared the worst. The deputy wanted nothing more than to figure out what happened and go get the SOB’s that done this. I don’t know what all her motivation was, but as far as I was concerned, I wanted them caught even more than the deputy did. Good thing she had the gun and I didn’t.

Deputy Warren asked me if we would need consent if she were eighteen. No. She suggested that we must have misunderstood what Miss Martaugh had said when she gave us her date of birth. She thought Gabrielle said April of ’53. Thinking back, I definitely heard April of ’53. I called the doctor in and we began to treat her immediately.

She’d been curled up in a ball since she’d come in. Now when she was moving around more, I could see the bruising. It was well after three in the morning when they had her stitched up. Cleaned up. Still not saying much. I could see the pain in her eyes. It wasn’t the physical pain. I had to step outside. There was no sign that she’d been raped and she wasn’t saying anything, but I recognized the eyes. I had my fears and this whole thing was drumming up some real bad memories.

Deputy Warren was still there. She’d been waiting in the lobby all this time waiting for her chance to get some answers. I told her she wasn’t saying much still. Told her it was common for female beating victims to hush up for a day or so. Told her there was a recovery process and emotions that come with that sort of thing. She guessed I might be talking from experience. Guessed right. She said she was attacked once on her daddy’s farm too, but she got out a couple screams and her daddy shot and killed the SOB before he could do what he planned to do. I wasn’t so lucky. Knowing what she knew now, about the both of us, she laughed a bit, and I could tell she was looking forward to paying a visit to the Martaugh residence.

We went back in and talked to Gabrielle, the both of us. We told her a bit about our own experiences with violence and how she wasn’t alone. The deputy done her very best to convince her that the sooner she talked to her, the better chance there was of catching the boys that done it… trying to get her to say something, anything about who done this to her. Still didn’t say nothing that would help though. Eventually, she fell asleep. *Frustrated, the deputy left soon after to do the same. Gave me her card to call her if anything worth while came up.

My shift was over now too. I stayed with her anyhow because I knew what was coming. The worst part was yet to come. The dreams. Oh I remember the dreams. Still have them now and again. They don’t scare me anymore but they sure used to. Scared the dickens out of me. I remember the faces. I remember thinking there was something I could have done. Or maybe something I shouldn’t have done. The first three nights I’d take a shower til the water run cold. Couldn’t get clean. My arms and throat hurt so bad. Sometimes I’d cry out in my sleep in the night. Hard sleeping at first.

Miss Martaugh just bawled. Sound asleep, but bawling like a child. It was painful to watch. Thought to wake her up just to help her end the memory, but her body needed sleep, so I just kept watch. Next thing I knew I woke up in the chair and she was setting up in her bed watching over me.

*“You should get on home,” she told me, “You prolly got family waiting on you. No sense carrying on here on account of me.” Couldn’t believe my ears. She was more concerned about me than about herself. Told her I’d stick around a while longer in case she needed anything. “Only thing I need’s a ride,” she said. I asked if she had any place to go, if she lived nearby. *“Been thinking on that all morning,” she said. “Figure I should prolly just go on home.”

We got her shined up pretty good and before we knew it Deputy Warren was back with a change of clothes for Miss Martaugh. Right Christian of her I think. I got her up to speed on what Gabby wanted to do, going home and all. She offered to give her a ride if she didn’t have one otherwise. That deputy sure took a liking to her right quick. Guess I did too. She took that ride home and I was glad to hear that she would. It would be better to have a deputy there, just in case whatever had happened, happened there. Maybe Gabby would tell Deputy Warren more about it. Maybe even who done it.

December 14

WMH

Deputy Warren came back to talk to the doctors after dropping Gabby off at home. Then she came to talk to me. I’ll never forget what she told me. She said Gabby’s daddy called the young girl a whore and told her to go inside and get supper ready. My jaw dropped nearly all the way to the floor. She said he didn’t say thank you, or ask who done it, or is she all right... nothing. Just get in the house and start supper. There was no question in her mind that her daddy had been the one to beat her up like that. He told her Gabby gets in fights now and again with some kids from school. Usually happens when one girl’s getting too familiar with another girl’s boyfriend. *She told me he said, “Sorry if I don’t look shocked. You get used to it.”

Gabby hadn’t said nothing about who was responsible for it, where it happened, nothing. Warren said it was all she could do not to pull Gabby out of there and take her home with her. That was about the least loving family she’d ever even heard of. She’d given her card to Gabby on the way, in case she remembered anything or just wanted to talk about it. I told her I done the same. The deputy’s boyfriend had gone out to the city that evening with some friends to see the new James Bond movie, so the two of us went to dinner that night and talked about Gabby, and what to do.

December 17

My home

Got a phone call late in the morning from Gabby from school. She’d been having trouble sleeping and wanted to talk about “stuff.” Said she didn’t want to talk to the school nurse about it. She asked me to come meet her at a the cemetery out toward Burr Ferry, near her house. Told her it might be a good idea if Deputy Warren could meet us but she said this wasn’t about “legal matters.” I had my suspicions. We planned to meet the next day at 10:00.

December 18

Plunkaway Cemetery - Burr Ferry

Gabby wasn’t hard to find under the old oak tree in the center of the small cemetery. Guess she figured she’d stand out better there. She wore blue jeans and a red sweatshirt with boots and a red bandana. That would have been pretty normal clothes that time of year, but I remember that December was real warm. Too warm for a sweatshirt. She wore her hair long. Natural, not like the other girls with their bops and wedges. She was a very pretty girl. Didn’t need to fancy herself up with the latest trends, just a pony tail tied with two red hair ties holding it in place, which were about the fanciest things about her, all in all.

We talked for a spell while we walked around the cemetery. Some old ones in there. Asked where she went to school and how long her family had been there. Asked her lots of small talk things to make sure we were both comfortable. Eventually she started asking the questions. Wanted to know if she could get sick from what happened. My heart just sunk like a rock. I was sure, right then, that she was saying she was raped. *“Yes, you sure can,” I told her.

Told her what Deputy Warren had told me about when she dropped her off. How her daddy called her what he did. Asked her about her mama and if she helped her at all. She said yes. Said she talks to her mama about just about everything. Lots of nasty things going around these days. I had to find a way to get her back to WMH to get her checked out. Thought maybe her mama would bring her down so I asked her where her mama was right then. Gabby pointed behind us. I turned, expecting to see someone waiting off in the distance, but I saw no one. **“You live over there?” I asked Gabby. She said no.

But that’s where her mama was—corner lot. Didn’t think my heart could sink any lower, but it sure did. We stopped and walked back to the end of the row. Gabby stopped at the foot of a grave which was marked only by a wooden stick. **“My cousin, Tad, showed me where they buried her,” she said. “Daddy was real mad at her when she died. Real mad. Says he deliberately marked her grave with this old stick on account of she wasn’t deserving of a real head stone. I wouldn’t even know about it, where she was or nothing, if Tad hadn’t shown me. Don’t know what she done to make him so mad, but he’s still mad I think.” Asked her how old she was when her mother died. Three… maybe… she thinks.

Her daddy’s brother and his wife raised her up with their kids after that. They lived over in Newton County, Texas just across the river. Years later she got into trouble at school and had to move back to Burr Ferry when she was 13. Been there ever since. Cooking dinner and doing chores in a house with no mama, and a daddy who always saw her as a reminder of a woman he cared so little about that he marked her grave with a plain old stick. *“Could have left it with no marker at all,” Gabby said, “Then people would have just thought the marker was worn away. But he hated her so bad that he made sure anyone who saw it would know, whoever was buried there wasn’t worth any more than just that.”

WMH

Gave Gabby a ride in, even though it’s against the hospital’s policies. Dropped her off in the parking lot and she was an emergency “walk in.” She complained about being sick and explained to the nurse on duty about what had happened. News was already all around the staff from days ago, so the nurse knew all about Gabby being “18” already. Got her in without even talking about insurance or anything. Good folks at this hospital. I hate to leave. They took some blood and checked her over. Not much more we could do at that point. Met her in the parking lot and drove her back to the cemetery where she wanted to be dropped off.

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