Latest news with #survivor
CBS News
5 hours ago
- CBS News
Family of 5 barely survives house explosion in downstate State Park Place, Illinois
A family in downstate Illinois barely survived their house exploding in the middle of the night with no warning. The Rodriguez family lives in State Park Place, Illinois, just outside St. Louis, Missouri. Around 1 a.m. Monday, an explosion leveled their home. The family of five plus their two dogs all made it out alive, but barely. "Based on pure adrenaline. I just was crawling on all fours trying to get out. My door was already like blocked," said 18-year-old Ashley Rodriguez "I was pushing stuff off, and it just burned my fingertips off this hand." Ashley's back was broken when the roof collapsed on her. Her 11-year-old sister was lucky, and suffered only minor burns. Her 6-year-old brother was pulled from the ashes by her father, who was burned on his arm and neck. Their mother suffered the worst burns on her entire body, and is hospitalized in critical condition. The family said she is due to undergo multiple surgeries. The state fire marshal is investigating the explosion, but the family said they called the gas company twice in the past six months to reporting a strong smell of gas near their front door. CNN contributed to this report.
Yahoo
19 hours ago
- Yahoo
Woman abused by mum wants historic sentence review
A woman who was beaten, burned and starved as a child has said it is never too late to seek justice after her mother was jailed for abusing her more than 50 years ago. Caroline Eshghi said she was subjected to years of "terror" by her mother, Melanie Burmingham, while living in Bristol, Somerset, and Wiltshire during the 1970s and 80s. Burmingham, 76, was jailed for 20 months in May after Ms Eshghi, 57, successfully appealed the initial suspended sentence. Now she is campaigning for a change in the law around sentencing guidelines for historical child abuse cases. "My childhood was definitely stolen from me," she told the BBC. "When you've survived child abuse, it never really goes away." Warning: This article contains details some readers may find distressing Ms Eshghi, who now lives in Cornwall, grew up at houses in Redland in Bristol, Long Ashton on the outskirts of the city, Midsomer Norton in Somerset and Avebury in Wiltshire before she ran away at the age of 15. One of her earliest memories is being five-years-old and in a house with an L-shaped hallway, where she remembers being "drop-kicked like a human football". "The viciousness of it made me pee blood," she said. Ms Eshghi recalls being put in the bath where her mother would hold her head under the water and turn out the lights, and being made to sleep on the floor. "I used to sleep next to the bed that she was in and randomly through the night she would just lean over while I was sleeping on the floor and punch me, so I would be lying there in terror." "I think at the age of nine is when she became an alcoholic and the hell was amplified quite a bit," Ms Eshghi added. "She would smash things, she split my face open with a broken glass butter dish. "She would tell me to get the walking stick and make me kneel in front of her while she beat me with it and she put out cigarettes on my body." Ms Eshghi said she would be sent to school unwashed, wearing broken wellington boots, with just a cream cracker in her lunchbox. "I used to have the nickname Paddington Bear at school," she added. "School dinners were torture for me because I had nothing and I used to watch the other children eating lovely food." Ms Eshghi said she was "hugely let down" by Bristol social services, formerly Avon social services, which she said allowed her to "slip through the net" despite referrals from schools she attended. "The only thing I remember is that a lady used to come and visit and ask 'does your mum hit you?' "Of course I was going to say no. As soon as she left I was beaten and assaulted." Ms Eshghi made the decision to report the abuse she suffered to police in 2019. "I was told on the phone that the records from that time were not looked after as they should have been and were put in a basement that flooded and many were lost," she said. Avon and Somerset Police launched an investigation and four years later, in March 2023, Burmingham was charged with one count of cruelty to a person under 16 years contrary to section 1 of the Children and Young Person Act 1933. She was given a 20-month suspended sentence after pleading guilty during trial at Portsmouth Crown Court. In May, Ms Eshghi appealed her mother's suspended sentence. "I thought that was it, that was done," she said. "But it went straight to the Attorney General who agreed that the sentence was unduly lenient." The case was escalated to the Court of Appeal and on 23 May, Burmingham was sent to prison for 20 months. Lord Justice Stuart-Smith stated that if he was trying the case now he would be looking at a minimum term of nine years and a maximum of 14 years. Under current laws, judges can only pass a sentence within the maximum term available at the time of the offending but Ms Eshghi has launched a petition calling for this to change. "The way the law works is that if you are taking a historical case through the judicial system for child abuse, they have to adhere to the sentencing rules of when the abuse took place. "I would like the law changed so that historical cases will be charged on current sentencing guidelines and not on the guidelines from decades ago." The Ministry of Justice has been approached for comment. Ms Eshghi said she feels a "sense of peace" knowing her mother has been sent to prison. "When you are abused, it is part of you," she said. "But you heal in such a way that you're not in denial of it. You're not ashamed of it. "I'm very lucky, I've got wonderful children, I live in a beautiful home in a beautiful part of the world. I am blessed". A spokesperson for Bristol City Council said: "The events described by Caroline are awful and should never be an environment any child has to experience. "Whilst we cannot answer for a council and a social services regime that no longer exist, we are pleased to see that Caroline has received some form of justice but recognise that this does not remove the impact of the abuse experienced as a child. "A search for historic files associated with this case was undertaken following a request received from the police. "Three separate and extensive searches were undertaken in 2020, 2022 and 2023 but were unable to identify any records that matched the details given by police. "The protocols often in place over 40 years ago meant that when an individual left the local authority area, their case files were transferred to the council for the area the person moved to. "Every effort to support the police in their investigations has been taken and should any further support be required we will again fully engage with that process." If you are affected by any of the issues in this article you can find details of organisations that can help via the BBC Action line. More news stories for Bristol Watch the latest Points West Listen to the latest news for Bristol Follow BBC Bristol on Facebook, X and Instagram. Send your story ideas to us on email or via WhatsApp on 0800 313 4630. Child abuse training failures before boy's murder 'Court delays saw my abuser declared unfit for trial' Pair jailed over toddler's 'sickening' abuse Bristol City Council
BBC News
19 hours ago
- BBC News
Woman who was beaten by mum wants historical sentence review
A woman who was beaten, burned and starved as a child has said it is never too late to seek justice after her mother was jailed for abusing her more than 50 years Eshghi said she was subjected to years of "terror" by her mother, Melanie Burmingham, while living in Bristol, Somerset, and Wiltshire during the 1970s and 76, was jailed for 20 months in May after Ms Eshghi, 57, successfully appealed the initial suspended sentence. Now she is campaigning for a change in the law around sentencing guidelines for historical child abuse cases."My childhood was definitely stolen from me," she told the BBC. "When you've survived child abuse, it never really goes away." Warning: This article contains details some readers may find distressing Ms Eshghi, who now lives in Cornwall, grew up at houses in Redland in Bristol, Long Ashton on the outskirts of the city, Midsomer Norton in Somerset and Avebury in Wiltshire before she ran away at the age of of her earliest memories is being five-years-old and in a house with an L-shaped hallway, where she remembers being "drop-kicked like a human football"."The viciousness of it made me pee blood," she Eshghi recalls being put in the bath where her mother would hold her head under the water and turn out the lights, and being made to sleep on the floor."I used to sleep next to the bed that she was in and randomly through the night she would just lean over while I was sleeping on the floor and punch me, so I would be lying there in terror." "I think at the age of nine is when she became an alcoholic and the hell was amplified quite a bit," Ms Eshghi added."She would smash things, she split my face open with a broken glass butter dish."She would tell me to get the walking stick and make me kneel in front of her while she beat me with it and she put out cigarettes on my body."Ms Eshghi said she would be sent to school unwashed, wearing broken wellington boots, with just a cream cracker in her lunchbox."I used to have the nickname Paddington Bear at school," she added."School dinners were torture for me because I had nothing and I used to watch the other children eating lovely food." 'Seriously failed' Ms Eshghi said she was "hugely let down" by Bristol social services, formerly Avon social services, which she said allowed her to "slip through the net" despite referrals from schools she attended."The only thing I remember is that a lady used to come and visit and ask 'does your mum hit you?'"Of course I was going to say no. As soon as she left I was beaten and assaulted."Ms Eshghi made the decision to report the abuse she suffered to police in 2019."I was told on the phone that the records from that time were not looked after as they should have been and were put in a basement that flooded and many were lost," she said. Avon and Somerset Police launched an investigation and four years later, in March 2023, Burmingham was charged with one count of cruelty to a person under 16 years contrary to section 1 of the Children and Young Person Act was given a 20-month suspended sentence after pleading guilty during trial at Portsmouth Crown Court. In May, Ms Eshghi appealed her mother's suspended sentence."I thought that was it, that was done," she said. "But it went straight to the Attorney General who agreed that the sentence was unduly lenient."The case was escalated to the Court of Appeal and on 23 May, Burmingham was sent to prison for 20 Justice Stuart-Smith stated that if he was trying the case now he would be looking at a minimum term of nine years and a maximum of 14 current laws, judges can only pass a sentence within the maximum term available at the time of the offending but Ms Eshghi has launched a petition calling for this to change."The way the law works is that if you are taking a historical case through the judicial system for child abuse, they have to adhere to the sentencing rules of when the abuse took place. "I would like the law changed so that historical cases will be charged on current sentencing guidelines and not on the guidelines from decades ago."The Ministry of Justice has been approached for comment. Ms Eshghi said she feels a "sense of peace" knowing her mother has been sent to prison."When you are abused, it is part of you," she said. "But you heal in such a way that you're not in denial of it. You're not ashamed of it."I'm very lucky, I've got wonderful children, I live in a beautiful home in a beautiful part of the world. I am blessed". Historic files search A spokesperson for Bristol City Council said: "The events described by Caroline are awful and should never be an environment any child has to experience."Whilst we cannot answer for a council and a social services regime that no longer exist, we are pleased to see that Caroline has received some form of justice but recognise that this does not remove the impact of the abuse experienced as a child."A search for historic files associated with this case was undertaken following a request received from the police. "Three separate and extensive searches were undertaken in 2020, 2022 and 2023 but were unable to identify any records that matched the details given by police. "The protocols often in place over 40 years ago meant that when an individual left the local authority area, their case files were transferred to the council for the area the person moved to."Every effort to support the police in their investigations has been taken and should any further support be required we will again fully engage with that process."If you are affected by any of the issues in this article you can find details of organisations that can help via the BBC Action line.
News.com.au
a day ago
- News.com.au
Silence is over: Abused altar boy names his monster
He was seven years old when he was first sexually assaulted by a man who was adored and respected by his family, by everyone around him. This man was his parish priest. And a monster. Thirty-six years later the 'normality of it' all still haunts Ben G as he navigates life as a sexual abuse survivor. 'I wish I could say it only happened once. But it didn't. The pattern repeated. Sometimes I'd be called once a week, sometimes more,' Ben G shares in his book about his early years as an altar boy at St Mary's Catholic Church in Beaudesert, Queensland. Each time, I felt a little more hollow. A little more afraid. I started pretending to be sick so I wouldn't have to go to school. I would cry before the bus came. I told my mum I had headaches. Stomachaches. Anything to stay home.' Ben said he never thought about telling anyone. 'Why would I? I was a child being guided by people I trusted - teachers, parents, priests. When I was called out of class to help prepare for mass, it felt like a privilege,' he said. 'The church was only a short walk from the classroom, and no one ever questioned why I was going there alone. In fact, it was seen as a reward. Something to aspire to.' It all seemed like just another part of school. Like another subject. 'There were no alarms, no red flags. Just me and the priest, Father Terence Ganzer, walking across the schoolyard to the sacristy. Alone.' Ben, who asked that his last name be kept secret, told he decided to write about his trauma after many many years of 'not really knowing what to do'. 'I just hit rock bottom, I was going to counselling, I have crippling anxiety, I can't go out in public … it got to a point where my then wife encouraged me to see someone and open up about stuff and it just snowballed from there,' he said. 'Only recently the church has formally apologised to me and I found the strength to open up. 'I'm angry that the church still carries on with what they do, while my whole life has been a misery.' During the process of writing his book called God F**ked Me, Ben G has tracked down another person who was an altar boy at the time. 'He's going through similar things to me, he's struggling, while the Church just carries on.' In May this year Ben received a letter from the Archbishop of Brisbane acknowledging his experiences while a student in the care of St Marys Catholic Primary School and an altar server at St Marys Catholic Church at Beaudesert. 'The conduct of the priest was totally unacceptable and a betrayal of his obligations as a priest,' the letter said. 'I would like to apologise unreservedly for the sexual assaults to which you were subjected as a child entrusted to the care of the school and of the local parish. I deeply regret the effects the sexual abuse has had on you.' Ben said the apology was long overdue but didn't really bring him closure, just more anger. He hopes God F**ked Me, which is out today, will 'spark a conversation'. 'I want to encourage other survivors who have gone through this to come forward and hopefully force these institutions to face the damage they have done and have covered up.'
The Guardian
a day ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘My hospital notes said: estimated female': jazz musician Gill Hicks on being caught in the 7/7 bombings
When Gill Hicks takes to the stage, she says with a small laugh that she hopes she can get through just the opening number, 'without breaking down in a heap'. It will be emotional. Wryly titled Still Alive (and Kicking), the show is Hicks's own way to mark the 20th anniversary of the suicide bombings on London's public transport that killed 52 people, and injured more than 700 – Hicks, a survivor, lost both her legs. In her show, she weaves her story of survival and resilience around singing the jazz standards she has always loved. She has already performed a version of it in Australia, where she now lives, but for its London outing she hopes around 20 members of the medical and emergency teams who attended that day will be in the audience. 'They are extraordinary,' she says, 'and their actions not only saved my life that morning, but I honestly believe they have saved me every single day since.' That July morning, Hicks was on her way to work when one of the four suicide bombers who targeted London detonated his bomb in her tube carriage, somewhere between King's Cross and Russell Square. Hicks is believed to have been the last survivor pulled from the wreckage some 40 minutes later, her injuries so bad that when she arrived at hospital she was simply labelled: 'One unknown, estimated female'. Before that, lying in the dark smoke-filled carriage, having used her scarf as a tourniquet around what was left of her legs to stop the bleeding, Hicks remembers making what she describes as a contract. She would get the chance to live, and she would make it count. 'That's really helped me continue to get up every day regardless of the situation I'm in. There's a purpose and an absolute sense that there's things to be done that help remind us of our shared humanity.' She had lived in London for more than 20 years, working in architecture and design, then after the bombings dedicating her time to organisations that promoted peace, before moving to Australia in 2013, the same year she had her daughter. The last time Hicks came to London was in 2015 to commemorate 10 years since the bombings. But she doesn't associate the city with trauma. That has been a conscious choice, she says. 'That's the one power that we all have, to be able to choose how we react and how we respond. Part of the honour of life for me is constantly choosing to live from a place of gratitude and positivity.' Twenty years, she says, is long enough to consider the depth of the impact on her. 'With the nature of my disability, I'm never detached from what's happened,' she says. Forgiveness hasn't felt necessary, or even possible given the man who blew up that tube carriage died in the blast, 'so he's taken away this exchange. It's also made me feel I don't have to really consider my feelings about him. I have to instead focus on what I do with my life, and how do I honour my life?' She is also always aware of those who didn't come home that day. The idea of 'healing' or 'recovery' is difficult – 'My legs won't grow back. I live in quite a lot of constant pain' – but for Hicks, the arts have been part of reclaiming her sense of self. She was a jazz musician before the bombings, but she never thought she would be able to sing or perform again. Her injuries left her with hearing loss, and one functioning lung. 'It took me months to learn how to speak again,' she says. 'When something like this type of life-altering event happens, it's so easy to lose yourself, because your identity is skewed. Suddenly you're a disabled person, so that's one label. You're a double amputee, that's another. You're a survivor, or are you a victim? I've been given a new life, but it's this constant struggle of how do I do this?' The arts, including her vibrant paintings (which will be projected during the show) and working with the violinist Julian Ferraretto (also part of the show) represented 'this beautiful piece of life before, that came back but with a different meaning, so it's actually more powerful'. Instead of thinking about the hate and extremism of that catastrophic moment, Hicks prefers to focus on the love and compassion she was shown in the months and years afterwards. She tracked down as many people involved in her care as she could, 'to look into their eyes and say thank you.' Several, including one of the first paramedics who entered Hicks's carriage, have become close friends. This is what she wants her show to bring to people. 'Through the addition of music, it becomes a real celebration of not only life, but of who we are as human beings – the extraordinary, unconditional love that I was shown as a person without identity, 'One unknown, estimated female.' To think that my body wasn't just passed from one person to the next, it was absolutely held with love and intention for survival. Who I am today is because of how powerful that love and care was on that morning. I think the undercurrent for me of 20 years is: how do I tell that? How do I be the reminder?' Still Alive (and Kicking) is at Wilton's Music Hall, London, on 9 July
