Justice was served

This article is a fictionalized version of real incidents that happened to various females when I was a teenager. In no way am I downplaying and normalizing sexual assault. I am sharing a story about the mindset of some teens in the 1970s. And how things have changed today. Please take no offense. If you can relate to this story please leave a comment.

In the moment, what happened was hilarious. Looking back in time, others may not understand through today's lens. What took place is now known as sexual battery and assault.

Such harsh words for those who grew up hearing and accepting that "Boys will be boys." Don't be to hard on us. If rape was not attempted or completed there was no harm no foul.

None of the girls in the community ever felt violated or fearful of the guys we grew up with. It's understood that women have been traumatized and violated but please try to see this story for what it is.

Carlton was 16 and working with the other teens at a local business. The boys were assigned jobs like washing company vehicles, scrubbing, and buffing floors and taking out the trash. The girls did general cleaning, dusting, and dishwashing.

Mr. Jim was the supervisor, and one day, a girl named Beverly said she overheard a conversation between Carlton and our boss, where the teen was bragging that he had been intimate with his six female co-workers.

We were infuriated because we were all still virgins but had fought Carlton off in different degrees. Dana shared that one day, he and another guy were at her house, and Carlton pulled down her pants and then laughed because she had baby powder in her private area. She said she had laughed with the boys and life went on.

One afternoon, Carlton and I were the first to leave the building after work. We sat on a wall waiting for the others so we could all walk home. He gave me this strange look with a wicked smile on his face, then pinned my arms down and gave me a hickey.

He was strong and muscular and as a member of the school wrestling team, he lifted weights. I could not get him off of me, and when he finally let me up, I had a bright red monkey bite on my neck. I did not scream for help because "Boys will be boys, right"?

I was embarrassed that I could not stop him, and I pulled my sweater over my neck and never told anyone until much later. When I did the girls snickered as if it was no big deal.

Three other girls said Carlton had rubbed their backsides or squeezed their breasts. Jeanne said he grabbed her and kissed her one day. They all had gently pushed him and laughed. After all, he didn't try to rape anyone.

In the early 1970s, this type of behavior was expected from teenage boys, and Carlton was not alone. Other guys would put their hands between out legs and on ou rear ends or touch our breasts. That's just the way it was.

Carlton was the most annoying and the most persistent, but now he had gone too far. Telling Mr. Jim we had slept with him was the final straw, and we girls devised a plan.

On the following day, the boys were supposed to wash the company vehicles in the back of the building. We snuck through the service entrance when no one was looking, and Dana grabbed the water hose from Billy.

Jeanne and I and two other girls each grabbed a leg or an arm and held Carlton down on the ground. Beverly unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants while Dana sprayed him from head to toe over and over.

Dana shouted, " This is for embarrassing me and pulling down my pants," as the hose in his face prevented him from crying out. "Don't ever give a girl a hickey she doesn't want," I said as I used my free hand to pull his pants to his ankles.

The other girls hurled insults at Carlton, and we held tight as he kicked and squirmed but could not get away. We all were shouting that we would never sleep with him. The other boys looked on, laughing, but did not interfere with our brand of justice.

A few girls smacked Carlton in the head, and one punched him in the stomach. Don't judge us. This was the 1970s, and times were different. We were annoyed at Carlton, but did not consider his actions as sexual battery or ours as assault as described today.

When we finally let him up, he was soaking wet, coughing, and spitting out water. He tried to run, but with his pants around his ankles, fell face-first in the wet dirt. He got up and fell a few more times before he disappeared around the building.

We were all soaking wet as well and hysterical with laughter. Beverly grabbed the hose and sprayed the other guys just for fun. They cursed us as they ran into the building, and we laughed until we cried.

Thankfully, Mr. Jim had left early that day. It was the end of our shift, so we all clocked out and went home together to dry off. Carlton and the other boys walked with us as they had been doing all summer. There were no hard feelings on either side. We laughed and joked as we walked, and the incident was soon forgotten.

I realize today that our actions were no better than Carlton's, but in the moment, we were just teens having fun. You had to be there in person and in the spirit of the early 70s to understand that we considered our revenge on Carlton as justified.

The moment would have gone viral today, but we might all have been facing charges. Still, to those who were involved, it was the highlight of the summer. You really had to be there.