ESCANABA — Wednesday evening, heavy subject matter filled the auditorium of the Besse Center at Bay College as advocates from Tri-County Safe Harbor (TCSH) shared personal stories of domestic abuse, praised the victories of individuals who have escaped such situations and mourned those who never did. Voices shook and broke; tears fell. One by one, survivors of rape, kidnapping, physical assault and emotional abuse bravely took the podium and bore their vulnerabilities in front of an audience.

Following the monologues, the speakers sat together to form a panel and answered anonymous questions that had been written on slips of paper during a break. The night concluded with a candlelight vigil to honor all who have lost their lives to domestic violence and those still struggling.

“Domestic abuse is an uncomfortable conversation,” said one survivor, Sonya, early in the night. “Most, if not all, of you are just as uneasy listening as I am talking. But just as any other difficult topic, the more it’s talked about, the less power it has. And the less power, the less control.”

Abuse that happens in the home is often coupled with psychological manipulation that makes it that much more difficult for a victim to break free.

“Since my work with this population, I learned that there is one common misconception when it comes to victims,” said Jennifer Brandt, who has a master’s degree in social work and acts as a responder with TCSH. “People think that these victims come to us already broken, weak and having no strength, and they think it’s our job to give them the strength and faith. But that is a misconception, because these people already have all the strength in the world coming to us. It takes a lot of bravery, strength and confidence to come forward and simply ask for help. Our job as supporters and advocates is just to help them find the strength that they already have.”

One oft-cited reason for victims not coming forward is that they’re afraid they might not be believed. But multiple survivors’ stories revealed reactions that are perhaps more frightening. Upon learning about the abuse, others — family and law enforcement — have encouraged victims to return to dangerous situations or to put the encounters behind them.

During TCSH crisis advocate Tara Clark’s account, listeners were reminded that a person may be an upstanding member of society professionally and an abuser privately.

“For more than four decades, I stood by feeling helpless and watching from the sidelines as my perpetrator got married, had children and now grandchildren,” said Clark. “I watched as he served others in our community as a volunteer fireman and an EMT. He was the go-to guy that everyone knew would jump to help when asked. … He lived. I did not.”

In her case, her rapist was a family member who she said sought her out “at every turn” for over 15 years.

“Now, there are many over the years who have told me to sit down and shut up,” said Clark. “My family especially threatened me in unthinkable ways if I were to speak out. They were also the first to abandon me when I finally did speak my truth. They have uttered words like, ‘it’s in the past’ or ‘you should let it go.’ I can assure you that I am not Queen Elsa,” she said, slipping in a surprise moment of comic relief with the reference to the movie “Frozen” and sparking a few soft chuckles in the darkness.

Sonya was a survivor of domestic violence who finally gained freedom after 41 years of abuse from her husband, the father of her four children. She said that she had grown up in an alcoholic household with seven siblings, dropped out of school and got out when she could. She was 17 when she met her ex. She said that the early days were full of fun and love. Eventually, that turned.

“I was trying to be a good wife and mother, but I was constantly walking on eggshells,” Sonya said. “I never knew what would set him off, so I tried to keep things calm, but his moods would change without warning. I was punched, kicked, and even had my nose broken at one point.

“I did call the police a number of times and went to my parents’ house. But I was told to let him cool off and sober up — and to go home. I was told also by many people that I had ‘made my bed,’ and also by some well-meaning people that I should just pray for him.”

The main speaker of the night was LeeAnn Wilmoth, who relied heavily on her faith to get her through a week that she referred to as “a nightmare that I would not be waking up from.”

Wilmoth was a kidnapping victim for whom there was a large-scale search in July of 2017 after coworker Eric Ruska took her on what she believed to be an innocent fishing trip. Just weeks prior, Wilmoth had moved to the Upper Peninsula from Houston, Texas, and begun a new job. She had no idea at the time what her colleague was capable of — or what he had done to other women in the past.

The two had driven separately to Chicago Lake in the Central U.P. and then gotten on his boat.

“As the day was coming to an end for fishing, and we were on the boat in the middle of the lake, I soon found out the purpose of the trip was not to just go fishing, but I would be held against my will and sexually assaulted,” said Wilmoth. “My life had been threatened as well as my family’s if I did not do exactly what I was told. When I knew this was real, I can’t do anything but pray. I prayed out loud. I prayed for God’s protection, I prayed for the situation to change, and after praying, I remember my perpetrator telling me that wasn’t going to help me. But that didn’t stop me from staying true to who I am.

“Over the next six days, I continued to be held hostage and sexually assaulted. I was driven around the central U.P. and my perpetrator would park in different spots deep in the woods of the Hiawatha National Forest to avoid being found. At times, I was ratchet-strapped to the front seat to prevent me from making any escape. I was told many times I would be taken home, but this never happened.”

Fortunately, as Wilmoth’s family had kept in communication with her before losing contact, they were able to report her missing and give information to the police. In that time, it became publicized that Ruska, a convicted sex offender, had performed similar acts at least twice before. After the first crime — which involved him driving a teen into the woods, raping her three times and threatening her with a gun — he was sentenced to one year in jail and two years probation. The second instance was similar and earned him a prison sentence of 10-15 years. He was released in 2015, two years before Wilmoth became Ruska’s third known victim.

Finally, on July 14, 2017, Ruska’s truck — with Wilmoth ratchet-strapped to the front seat — was spotted in Munising while stopped at a gas station. Wilmoth was taken to the hospital, and Ruska was arrested. He is now serving a life sentence.

The experiences shared are just a sample. In our communities and around the world are survivors and current victims. And as one survivor said, “domestic violence is everyone’s business.”

Even after escaping an abusive environment, people still struggle. When posed with a question from an anonymous audience member of how one could deal with the guilt of knowing their children suffered alongside them, Sonya explained that since there’s no way to change the past, all we can do is create a new, healthier environment. Continuing to blame one’s self — a victim — just allows the abuser to still have a hold. Sonya said that TCSH and Celebrate Recovery have both helped her greatly on her healing journey.

Tri-County Safe Harbor, which offers help to men, women and children in Delta, Schoolcraft and Menominee Counties, may be reached 24/7 at 906-789-1166. TCSH Executive Director Erin Viau said that anyone who knows someone suffering from domestic violence should reach out and encourage the victim to seek help.