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Chatting On-Line: A Dangerous Proposition for Children
Subcommittee on Telecommunications and the Internet
Ms. Katherine Tarbox
I was thirteen years old when I first started using the Internet. My parents received a disk in the mail offering my family free hours of America Online. This was 1995 and we didn't completely know what the Internet would bring into our home. The news focused on how this would help our lives; we could buy airplane tickets and my sister would be able to do a complete college search. We didn't think there were any potential dangers to having our computer plugged in with millions of others. We were wrong. I had used America Online once before at school with a project we were working on through CNN and thousands of others schools to help save the Everglades. We used the chat rooms to learn what other schools had done. We only went into chat rooms, and I didn't know that the Internet was meant to be resource tool and a communication tool. From the beginning of my Internet use, I thought of it as a place to meet people. I think I thought of the Internet the way an adult goes to a bar, they go there to meet people. When I first started using America Online in my house, I only went into teen chat rooms. I found some to be overly sexual, but for the most part I found people who I thought were teenagers. We would talk about our common interests, which could be swimming, popular bands, or movies. I didn't use it excessively, but found myself logging on about an hour a day. This is far less than the average child spends online today. It was a September Sunday morning when I met a guy in a teen chat room named Mark. I asked if anyone wanted to talk to a thirteen-year-old girl from Connecticut, and he replied. I immediately found out that he was twenty-three years old and from California. I sat there and stared at my computer questioning if it was all right for me to talk to a twenty-three year old man. At first, I said no; however, I then said to myself 'this is only on the Internet, it can't hurt.' I honestly didn't think I would have much in common with an older man, nor could I understand why he would have interest in talking to me. All this intrigued and persuaded me to continue. Mark asked what my favorite bands were. I answered, and then he also said he liked them too. Not only did he like those bands, but also he had been to concerts and could name his favorite songs. He then asked me where I shopped. Ironically, he also shopped there. He could also tell me styles that he had purchased there and products he frequently bought. We then talked about places we had both traveled to, and movies we had both seen. While the FBI may call this process grooming, in my thirteen-year old mind this was fate. At that age I didn't even know what a pedophile was. And though I didn't know what a pedophile was, I instinctively knew that I couldn't be a victim of one. I was a high-honors student, a national swimmer, a very accomplished musician, and I came from a loving family. Our society has labeled victims of sexual assault as being alone and isolated, or promiscuous. I wasn't those things, and so I never thought I could be talking to a pedophile. More importantly, the D.A.R.E. classes that I had in school taught me that rapists are usually uneducated and scary people. Mark was a very intelligent and caring person. This translated for me that Mark couldn't be a pedophile. We developed a friendship over a period of six months. It was platonic, and I can't emphasize that enough. It wasn't sexual. We would talk about politics, world issues, and a lot of pop culture. I could tell him my concerns about school, friends and family. This led me to believe that my friendship with Mark was beneficial in my life. I believed he was a positive influence in my life. Mark told me the things that I needed to hear at that age. He told me I was intelligent, beautiful and mature. At thirteen, while trying to develop a sense of identity, my confidence level is very low. There was continuous pressure from Mark to have an in person encounter. I wanted this, but didn't see how logistically it would work out. He was from California and I was from Connecticut. I knew I wouldn't go to California, and I didn't think it would be ok to have him over to my house. I hadn't told my parents about this relationship, because I didn't think they would understand the nature of it. I thought they would dismiss it as something sexual, when it wasn't, and force me to end it. Mark kept on suggesting times that we could meet, and I told him that I couldn't because I was going to Texas for a national swim meet. Mark said he would come along with, and before I could say no, I said yes. It was one week before the actual visit, and I was always in the honeymoon excitement period of finally meeting him. This excitement prevented me from rationalizing that I was going to meet an older man from the Internet. I traveled to Texas with my swim team and my mother. I stayed with one of my close friends, and my mother was down the hall. The friend that I was staying with was the only person I had told about my relationship. As I suspected, she passed it off as a sexual relationship. This reaffirmed that I was a little more mature than the rest of my friends, and could handle this friendship with Mark. At 9:30 Mark called my room and said he wanted to see me. I immediately headed for the door. My friend, Kerry, insisted that I didn't go and held herself against the door. I pushed her to the side, told her the room number of Mark's hotel room and headed to the elevator. I know the scariest part in all of this is that I never thought I was putting myself in a dangerous situation. I never thought I could be raped, or killed. I never thought Mark would be any other person than who he said he was. I knocked on the door and he opened it. We had exchanged pictures, but his was taken from so far away that I couldn't make out any distinguishing features. Standing at the door, I realized that this was an adult. I knew he was an adult, but on the Internet a lot of fantasy gets built up and you don't have to acknowledge reality. I felt very uncomfortable to be with Mark. He sensed this and began talking about the airport, soap dishes, my shoes, and other random subjects. He bounced around on topics, hoping to put me at ease. While there, I didn't know what was going to happen and I thought we would continue to have conversations like we had had over the phone. I had been there about thirty minutes, when Mark leaned over and said, "Katie, I have been thinking about you all day and thinking about doing this." I knew what this was. He leaned in, kissed me, then groped me, and touched other parts of my body. Essentially, in those short fifteen minutes, I was molested. I always thought that if I were in a position where I was receiving unwanted sexual advances that I would be strong. Instead, in the moment, I became passive. I was confused. I thought, "Do I owe to Mark? Of course he didn't come from California just to talk.' I was disappointed in myself and felt very dirty as a result of him touching me. There was a knock on the door, and my gut could tell it was my mother. I knew how disappointed she was going to be, though I felt relieved that I was going to be saved. I know if she didn't come, I would have been raped that night. My friend had told my mother where I had gone. My mom gathered hotel security and police and came to the door. The police questioned me and I told them briefly what had happened, carefully leaving out what Mark had done physically. They came back and said, "Miss, we have been talking to him for ten minutes and you say you have been talking to him for six months. His name is not Mark, but it is really Frank Kufrovich. He is not twenty-three, but actually forty-one. He is also a financial advisor from Los Angeles." As they told me this, I thought, 'Who the hell had I been talking to?' I realized that Frank could be doing this to anyone. At the same time, I didn't want to admit that Frank had lied to me. It was very hard for me to admit that Mark was a made up person, and that Frank was sick pedophile. I came forward and my family pressed charges, because I knew deep down it was the right thing to do. It was hard though, and I felt like I was betraying a friend. It took two years to prosecute him. In that time I lost all my friends at school because parents and my classmates blamed this on me. I eventually had to go away to a boarding school so that I could have a clean slate. Frank hired private investigators, who came and interviewed people in my town. I suffered from tremendous guilt, and I was diagnosed as being clinically depressed. I was taking a very high dose of Buspar, an anti-anxiety medication, which made me vomit almost daily. I had blood vessels popping on my skin making a rash. I even found myself in a shower with all my clothes on, not knowing how I had gotten there. I remember my adolescence by the times I went to the FBI for a polygraph test, or going to the psychologist. I don't remember putting on make-up preparing for the school dance. I think about that time as living hell. Frank eventually pleaded guilty. He was charged under the 1996 Communications Decency Act with traveling interstate with the intent to have sex with a minor and using interstate communication to persuade a minor to have sex. Frank was sentenced to a mere eighteen months in Federal prison. He was released in October of 1999, and will be off probation by the end of this summer. The FBI found that Frank had raped several girls, and even a boy. He also married a girl that he began sleeping with when she was just thirteen years old. I wrote about my experience in my book, Katie.com, because I wanted girls to be empowered. While traveling around the country, speaking about my experience with the Internet, the most common question I get is "What do you think was different about you that would make you a victim?" I am sure they want to blame the fact that my parents were divorced, or use the excuse that my mother is a work-a-holic. These are not the reasons why I became a victim. The answer is that I was thirteen. Thirteen is a very vulnerable age, and it happened that I met someone who told me the things that I needed to hear at that age. This is especially true in today's society, where girls are told to live up to very unrealistic expectations. Every person is thirteen at some point, and every thirteen year old is vulnerable. Though their parents may think they are safe while on the Internet, they are not. There needs to be some type of regulation to control chat rooms on the Internet. Unfortunately there are too many pedophiles out there, and at the same time, there are many vulnerable teenagers using the Internet. Some of them may not give out their address, or their real name, but they give out other personal information, like their number on the field hockey team and their school. This is enough for a person to find them. Children don't realize the consequences to Internet relationships. I know this because I have communicated with thousands of girls through my website. If they don't know the consequences they will learn them, unfortunately, probably the same way I did. We need to step up and protect children while they surf the Internet. The Internet is an incredible tool, and should be used by all; however, it should be safe.
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