COLORADO
The Aspen Times
By Roger Marolt
August 19, 2005
The recent spate of molestation charges around the state against Father Robert White are more than allegations to me. As teenagers here, five friends of mine and I lived perilously close to being pulled through the thin, dark veneer that hid his sphere of horror for decades.
As the story broke in The Denver Post last month, I read with eerie recognition. Victims told of being groped by Father White while wrestling. They recounted sexual encounters during ski trips with the priest to his cabin in Frisco and youth group swim outings to the Glenwood Hot Springs. They told of Father White allowing them to drive his new Buick while he slid his hand along their thighs from the passenger seat, and much worse. It was a synopsis of our own local youth group under his purview.
There were signs about his perverse proclivities early on. Once, we missed Sunday Mass due to a weekend camping trip. Father White offered to say a special "makeup" Mass for us. During the offering of peace, Father White hugged me tightly for a long time while rubbing his hand up and down my back. It felt wrong.
Afterward, we boys reservedly talked about it. We hashed out the "creepy" feeling it gave us. We decided that Father White was just a "touchy-feely" kind of priest. It never occurred to us that he might be a pedophile.