Attorney's Book Delivers on Promise to Clients

The Necn
January 7, 2013

http://www.necn.com/01/07/13/Attorneys-book-delivers-on-promise-to-cl/landing_nation.html?&apID=f58d280e04414e6fb92e62ff8edbd5ca

WILMINGTON, Del. (AP) — In the spring of 2011, when attorneys representing 152 victims of sexual abuse by priests were close to settling with the Roman Catholic Diocese of Wilmington, attorney Thomas Neuberger made a promise to his clients.

No matter what happened with the settlement, he said, he would make sure their stories were told — free of the filter of media or church — by writing a book.

"They wanted to make sure their voices would be heard, and they wouldn't be forgotten," Neuberger said.

After more than a year away from his law firm, Neuberger has fulfilled his promise publishing, "When Priests Become Predators: Profiles of Childhood Sexual Abuse Survivors."

The 427-page book, with an additional 40 pages of footnotes, has been sent free of charge to a number of libraries across the country, where Neuberger hopes it will be a valuable reference for others dealing with or studying child sexual abuse.

Much of the book is drawn directly from court transcripts and depositions from legal actions against or involving the Diocese of Wilmington, its parishes and abuser priests.

Diocese officials declined to comment on Neuberger's book.

John Vai, one of 12 sex abuse survivors whose stories are chronicled, praised the book and said his one-time attorney did "a wonderful job with summarizing the whole experience of the victim."

The sexual abuse "burned us all, and it will never go away," Vai said.

It was shortly after Vai's civil case went to trial in December 2010, when a jury ordered St. Elizabeth Church to compensate Vai $3 million plus $1 for abuse he suffered as a child, that the Diocese of Wilmington reached a settlement with victims in U.S. Bankruptcy Court.

Neuberger also details the stories of eight other plaintiffs who, like Vai, were abused by the former Rev. Francis DeLuca. Two remain anonymous, identified only by the pseudonyms used in court: John Doe No. 3 and John Doe No. 4.

Neuberger said there have been plenty of academic tomes on child sex abuse, but relatively few that tell the victims' stories in detail, as he attempted to do.

He originally tried to shop his idea for the book to several large and some small academic publishers and even worked with an agent, but with no success. Neuberger decided to self-publish the old-school way, with a hardcover paper version, and sell it only through a single book store, Ninth Street Books in downtown Wilmington, which lists it for $30 online.

Neuberger — who was raised a Catholic, graduated from Salesianum and knew many of the priests, people and places involved in the lawsuits — said pursuing the litigation took a toll on him, and writing the book provided a break and a chance to step back.

Working through the searing details of childhood sexual abuse with victims, who in many cases are now grandparents, "injures your soul," Neuberger said. "It has a corrosive effect."

While the book gave him a break from the law, Neuberger said being an author and self-publisher was hard work and disabused him of any notions of writing a second book. This is it, he said.

Jack and Gemma Buckley, owners of Ninth Street Books, said since its October release, the book has been selling well, about 130 copies by early December. The Buckleys said they believe most of the buyers have been survivors of sexual abuse by priests or family and friends of those survivors.

Both said they read the book and found it compelling, with Gemma Buckley noting that as a former St. Elizabeth student, she was familiar with many of the people and places mentioned.

Neuberger said he decided to have an actual book printed and sell it at just one brick-and-mortar store, rather than publish an ebook or make his hardcover book available through an online retailer so that if he is sued, "they will have to sue me here in Delaware."

Had it been published online or through an online retailer, Neuberger said someone could potentially sue him in any other court of their choosing.

Neuberger said he spent about $20,000 out of pocket — not counting about $300,000 he estimates he lost by stepping away from his law practice for a year — to hire an editor, get insurance against possible lawsuits and have 20,000 copies of the book printed.

He said he did not enter into the project expecting to make money and does not expect to earn a profit.

And in keeping with his word to survivors, there is little about Neuberger himself or the legal struggles he faced as an attorney, though the author's voice can clearly be heard in short narrative introductions, like one where he discusses a diocese statement about filing for bankruptcy and responds in text, "Puh-leeze."

Under the terms of the settlement in U.S. Bankruptcy Court, more than $111 million went into a survivor pool divided up among 152 people, resulting in an average payout of $731,000 per plaintiff. Individually, some received more and some received less, depending on how an independent arbitrator classified their claims. Those whose abuse was determined to be more severe — including such factors as number of incidents and time period — received more.

The process that was devised to divide up the settlement money recently was used as a model for the plaintiffs in a class action lawsuit related to the child sexual abuse committed by former Delaware pediatrician Earl Bradley, including using the same arbitrator, Tom Rutter.

One of the men whose story Neuberger told, Michael Schulte, drove to Delaware from his home in Virginia for an October book signing to get an autographed copy.

Schulte, 64, was a regular at bankruptcy court proceedings — along with a handful of other survivors — and was often easy to pick out of the crowd by his stern demeanor and seemingly perpetual scowl as he listened to church officials and attorneys argue in court.

But at the book signing, accompanied by his wife and his mother, Schulte's scowl and serious bearing had lifted and was replaced by a smile.

He said that the settlement — which also included a laundry list of "non-monetary" terms, like releasing the personnel files of abuser priests — is helping bring closure and the vindication he had been searching for since he was abused at age 12.

"I can sleep. I don't have the nightmares anymore," he said, though he added that he is not completely free of the abuse he suffered decades ago. "I hate Philly," he said, because it is where some of the assaults took place. "I can't stand to go there."

He said he still believes in God, he just no longer believes in the Catholic Church.

He then shook hands with Neuberger, got his copy of the book signed and left to return home, a broad smile still on his face.