In 1992, my brother Mark Presco made a rare call to me, and told me Vic had raped Shannon, and..
“Christine is blackmailing him in order to get money to put her in therapy.”
I had just had one secession with Dr. Martin Schaefer a physiotherapist who agreed to see me with no charge after we talked on the phone. He had turned me down fifteen minutes earlier and called me back.
“John. I called you back because I heard something in your voice. You have been hypnotizing yourself most of your life in order to escape the pain.”
When I went for my second visit, I told Martin what my brother had said. He put me in a trance for the first time. When he brought me to, he asked me this question;
“What children does your father have access to? Give me their names and ages.”
I looked at this wonderful man who I insisted be a Christian, and I saw him in the role of a detective. I started giving him the names of children who Vic introduced me this way;
” I love them like my do my own children”
Doctor Schaefer stopped me;
“John. You are naming adults. I want the names of children.”
Then the boy next door came to mind who I caught coming out of Vic’s bedroom, hiding something.
“What do you got there?” I asked.
“Candy! Vic let’s me and my sister come and get candy!”
A few days later, I called Vic Presco on the phone.
“Did you rape Shannon?”
“Not really!” was my father’s reply.
“If I do not hear the truth from you in one minute, I am going to turn you into the IRS.”
“We were drinking together. She came on to me. I was not the one who initiated sex.”
The next day I called up the IRS and told them my father was running a Loan Shark operation out of his home, and paying young women under the table. I wanted to destroy Captain Victim’s perk system with young college girls he hired. This perk was like a pedophiles bag of candy.
Vic was audited and got off light. He then turned Christine Rosamond Benton into the IRS believing she had called them on him, because Shannon was a slut, and Christine did not get any money out of him to put her in therapy.
Above is a photo of Vic holding Shannon. Do you think the mothers in my family saw this photo? If so, why aren’t they calling out a warning?
“Shannon! You are not safe where you are! Come away!”
Vic is drunk, as usual. He has gotten his sons out of his life. He titled me ‘Rosemary’s Baby’ because I pulled a big butcher knife on him when he came for Vicki one day after school. He had no visitation rights due to his violence. There was a restraining order against him when he walked in our home, extremely drunk. He ordered Vicki to pack a bag because they were going to drive a hundred mile to grandma’s house. He was unshaven. He lost his balance and weaved into some furniture. My seven year old sister looked at me to tell her what to do. There was just us at home.
“Go upstairs and pack a bag!” Captain Victim ordered my little sister.
“You can’t take Vicki! Mother told me not to let you take Vicki anywhere!”
Vic glared at me like a boxer in the ring. I ran into the kitchen and got a knife, and pointed at the monster. It took a step towards me. I had just turned twelve.
“Get out!” I screamed! “Get out!”
Years later Vic would say it was Rosemary who put that put that knife in my hand, and thus he forgave me. It never occurred to him that I was scarred for life. To be terrified of your own father to the point you have to look inside yourself to see if you owned the courage to stab him in the defense of a seven year old child, is not a healthy contemplation. After I got sober in 1987, I began to look at why I had a history of standing up to the bad guys, the Mafia, and people pointing guns at my friends.
If Rena Easton verbalized to anyone her suspicion that I am a pedophile, she has two weeks to rescind those comments, and make a public apology to me.
Jon Presco
Copyright 2014
Rosamond Press 
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