Post by KC on Sept 24, 2006 20:56:16 GMT -5
September 24, 2006 - After she was attacked at her Franklin clinic last winter, Dr. Kristen Prescott said, the police sergeant who responded to her 911 call was standoffish and suspicious: Had she been doing drugs? Did she let the guy in? Then, she said, he sent her alone into the February dawn for a half-hour while he inspected the clinic. A coworker said she found Prescott huddled behind a newspaper box outside the Westside Healthcare and took her to the hospital.
What that sergeant didn't know is that Prescott had been raped as well as physically assaulted. No one knew, not until Prescott told a state police detective two months later. Prescott, a pediatrician, said she did not plan to cover up the rape, but the first officers on the scene treated her so badly that she couldn't tell them. She "shut down," she said, entering a denial that got harder to leave as days and weeks passed.
Now, state police officers say they are actively investigating the case, but valuable time and evidence has doubtless been lost. Prescott blames herself for a lot of what went wrong on the morning of Feb. 23, she said, but she's also frustrated by what she sees as the Franklin police department's refusal to acknowledge its mistakes - and, more importantly, to make changes.
Prescott, 40, a married mother of three, said she's talking publicly because she wants people to know what happened to her: She wants some reform, something good to come of her experience.
"All I want is to make sure that another victim is not treated like this again," Prescott said. "That's all I want."
Franklin Police Chief Brad Haas said he has reviewed his department's response to Prescott's call, and he is "satisfied" with the officers' actions.
"Based on what I know, I'm confident that it was handled appropriately," he said.
Haas said that because the investigation is ongoing, he couldn't talk in greater detail about what happened that day or why Prescott was left alone. He said he met with Prescott in July and explained "why we did that." According to Prescott, Haas told her that the officer had to secure the building.
Haas emphasized that both he and Franklin City Manager Greg Doyon have repeatedly asked Prescott to file a formal complaint detailing her concerns, which she has never done. No one has been disciplined, and no procedures have been changed, Haas said.
But Prescott sees filing a complaint with Franklin as pointless, she said, because the chief has already decided the officers did nothing wrong.
Instead, she's called the attorney general's office, Merrimack County authorities, private attorneys. Many have been sympathetic, she said, but they've all told her there's little they can do. Prescott said she decided to go public as a "last resort."
"I want somebody to pick up the phone and call me and say, 'Let's talk about what we can do to make sure this doesn't happen again,'"she said. "I want them to tell me how they're going to make this right - so this doesn't happen to another."
That day
On the morning of Feb. 23, Prescott got to the clinic before 6 a.m. - when it was still dark - to catch up on paperwork. She had already done rounds at Lakes Region General Hospital, which runs Westside. She had her hands full as she walked through the parking lot. She put her key into the lock and a man grabbed her, she said.
Prescott said she did not want to discuss the specifics of the attack because there are some things known only to her, her assailant and the police, and she did not want to compromise the investigation.
After the assailant fled, she called 911 and told the operator she had been "attacked," she said. She stayed on the line until the operator told her that there was an officer outside and she should go let him in. When she got to the door, she was relieved to see that it was a sergeant she knew, she said. She'd been strangled by the assailant, she said, and was having trouble breathing.
"He immediately backed away from me and said, 'What's going on here? Are you doing drugs?'" she said. "I went into shock. I stood there and I couldn't even answer him. I said, 'I've been attacked or strangled.' And he said, 'Did you let the guy in?' . . . At that point, I was in shock. He said, 'Go outside.' I wanted to say, 'Help me. I need help.'"
But she went outside.
"I step over the threshold, he goes in, the door closes behind me, and I'm out there alone. My car's there, I don't have any keys to my car," she said. "So I looked for a place to hide. . . . That's when I kind of went into shock."
Two other officers arrived on the scene and stood several feet away, asking her questions, she said.
"He says, 'What's your name? What's going on? Why can't you talk?' And I'm coughing. 'What's your address?'" she said. "I was like, at that point, I was shaking. I was so cold, I was shaking. I'm crouched on the ground, huddled, afraid that this guy is going to come back and drag me away."
The conversation didn't last long, Prescott said.
"Then they just like didn't get what they wanted and they walked away," she said. "They just both turned around walked away from me as I'm crouched on the ground, having difficulty breathing. I'd just been beaten up, I'd just been sexually assaulted. . . And they picked themselves up and walked away."
She put her hands in her pocket and felt her cell phone, Prescott said. She called her husband, who was sleeping about a half-hours drive away, and a colleague, Susan Hare, who lives in Tilton. Both rushed to the scene.
Hare got there first. She found Prescott huddled alone outside the clinic, behind a pair of newspaper boxes, she said. Prescott had red spots on her throat, indicative of strangulation, Hare said.
"I put her in my car because she was freezing and shaking," Hare said. She turned the heat up in the car, locked the doors and used her keys to let herself in to the clinic. Inside, she said, officers seemed suspicious, questioning how an attacker would have opened a particular door. They asked her what she thought, Hare said, and she showed them that the door wasn't kept locked.
"The whole atmosphere just felt wrong in that she was the suspect, not the victim," Hare said. Hare told them she was taking Prescott to the hospital. She doesn't remember them saying anything in response.
More....
www.concordmonitor.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060924/REPOSITORY/609240384
What that sergeant didn't know is that Prescott had been raped as well as physically assaulted. No one knew, not until Prescott told a state police detective two months later. Prescott, a pediatrician, said she did not plan to cover up the rape, but the first officers on the scene treated her so badly that she couldn't tell them. She "shut down," she said, entering a denial that got harder to leave as days and weeks passed.
Now, state police officers say they are actively investigating the case, but valuable time and evidence has doubtless been lost. Prescott blames herself for a lot of what went wrong on the morning of Feb. 23, she said, but she's also frustrated by what she sees as the Franklin police department's refusal to acknowledge its mistakes - and, more importantly, to make changes.
Prescott, 40, a married mother of three, said she's talking publicly because she wants people to know what happened to her: She wants some reform, something good to come of her experience.
"All I want is to make sure that another victim is not treated like this again," Prescott said. "That's all I want."
Franklin Police Chief Brad Haas said he has reviewed his department's response to Prescott's call, and he is "satisfied" with the officers' actions.
"Based on what I know, I'm confident that it was handled appropriately," he said.
Haas said that because the investigation is ongoing, he couldn't talk in greater detail about what happened that day or why Prescott was left alone. He said he met with Prescott in July and explained "why we did that." According to Prescott, Haas told her that the officer had to secure the building.
Haas emphasized that both he and Franklin City Manager Greg Doyon have repeatedly asked Prescott to file a formal complaint detailing her concerns, which she has never done. No one has been disciplined, and no procedures have been changed, Haas said.
But Prescott sees filing a complaint with Franklin as pointless, she said, because the chief has already decided the officers did nothing wrong.
Instead, she's called the attorney general's office, Merrimack County authorities, private attorneys. Many have been sympathetic, she said, but they've all told her there's little they can do. Prescott said she decided to go public as a "last resort."
"I want somebody to pick up the phone and call me and say, 'Let's talk about what we can do to make sure this doesn't happen again,'"she said. "I want them to tell me how they're going to make this right - so this doesn't happen to another."
That day
On the morning of Feb. 23, Prescott got to the clinic before 6 a.m. - when it was still dark - to catch up on paperwork. She had already done rounds at Lakes Region General Hospital, which runs Westside. She had her hands full as she walked through the parking lot. She put her key into the lock and a man grabbed her, she said.
Prescott said she did not want to discuss the specifics of the attack because there are some things known only to her, her assailant and the police, and she did not want to compromise the investigation.
After the assailant fled, she called 911 and told the operator she had been "attacked," she said. She stayed on the line until the operator told her that there was an officer outside and she should go let him in. When she got to the door, she was relieved to see that it was a sergeant she knew, she said. She'd been strangled by the assailant, she said, and was having trouble breathing.
"He immediately backed away from me and said, 'What's going on here? Are you doing drugs?'" she said. "I went into shock. I stood there and I couldn't even answer him. I said, 'I've been attacked or strangled.' And he said, 'Did you let the guy in?' . . . At that point, I was in shock. He said, 'Go outside.' I wanted to say, 'Help me. I need help.'"
But she went outside.
"I step over the threshold, he goes in, the door closes behind me, and I'm out there alone. My car's there, I don't have any keys to my car," she said. "So I looked for a place to hide. . . . That's when I kind of went into shock."
Two other officers arrived on the scene and stood several feet away, asking her questions, she said.
"He says, 'What's your name? What's going on? Why can't you talk?' And I'm coughing. 'What's your address?'" she said. "I was like, at that point, I was shaking. I was so cold, I was shaking. I'm crouched on the ground, huddled, afraid that this guy is going to come back and drag me away."
The conversation didn't last long, Prescott said.
"Then they just like didn't get what they wanted and they walked away," she said. "They just both turned around walked away from me as I'm crouched on the ground, having difficulty breathing. I'd just been beaten up, I'd just been sexually assaulted. . . And they picked themselves up and walked away."
She put her hands in her pocket and felt her cell phone, Prescott said. She called her husband, who was sleeping about a half-hours drive away, and a colleague, Susan Hare, who lives in Tilton. Both rushed to the scene.
Hare got there first. She found Prescott huddled alone outside the clinic, behind a pair of newspaper boxes, she said. Prescott had red spots on her throat, indicative of strangulation, Hare said.
"I put her in my car because she was freezing and shaking," Hare said. She turned the heat up in the car, locked the doors and used her keys to let herself in to the clinic. Inside, she said, officers seemed suspicious, questioning how an attacker would have opened a particular door. They asked her what she thought, Hare said, and she showed them that the door wasn't kept locked.
"The whole atmosphere just felt wrong in that she was the suspect, not the victim," Hare said. Hare told them she was taking Prescott to the hospital. She doesn't remember them saying anything in response.
More....
www.concordmonitor.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060924/REPOSITORY/609240384