When I was five years old, the bishop stood over me and said, "Stop babbling about what Father Horne did to you." I kept the secret for 40 years. Today, I babble. - ke

In 2012

City of Angels Blog will be at http://cityofangels12.blogspot.com

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Video: Colbert illuminates John Jay Report on pedophile priest scandal in Catholic Church

“This is not a moral failing by the leadership of the church, it's simply a training issue. Like the new guy putting the wrong type of paper in the photocopier, except it's not paper and it wasn’t a photocopier.”

Video clip from Colbert Report May 19, 2011:

"There is good news," says Stephen Colbert, "the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops has released the results of an exhaustive $1.8 million dollar study examining the root causes of this tragic abuse of trust.

"I'm relieved to report that they have found the courage to place the blame where it belongs, on free love in the 1960s.”

The sexual abuse scandal, “this horrible horrible shameful chapter,” says Colbert on The Colbert Report on Comedy Central:

“Was caused by the damn hippies.”

Watch also on YouTube at City of Angels Network

Video is screen shot by Kay Ebeling,
Producer, City of Angels Blog
Desperately in need of PayPal "High Five" clicks


Marci Hamilton says the John Jay Report is a "breakthrough in explaining how an institution that started with Jesus Christ could become the global leader in child endangerment."

Read Hamilton's column Challenging the John Jay Report
"A law professor and victim advocate on blaming the Sixties for child sex abuse"

(Send your links to kay at cityofangelslady@yahoo.com )

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Tsunami Dream explains what happened to City of Angels Blog

I almost didn't survive. I knew I was putting myself in danger but it was my job. I’d known in advance that the wave was going to hit, from reading the news, from paying attention. But still I went to my job that day, in a building right down by the beachfront. In the minutes before the wave hit, I was running around the house trying to find my stuff- my backpack, my bags- and I’d find one thing then lose it while I was looking for the other. Out the window the wave got closer. Others in the house (it was an Afro American family) were going, cool, look at that wave, and I was trying to get out of there, but I couldn't get out, so became resigned, thinking I was going to die there.

Then to rescue me a ride came through, literally a ride, like a theme park ride, and I jumped on, and the ride kept taking me higher and higher up the hill, so we'd escape just as the wave was hitting, wiping out everything below us. Just as the ride was about to go back down the hill, I jumped off, onto this structure with hallways and coves and stairways. I took a stairway and went higher and higher and it seemed that just as the wave hit just below me, I’d always find another way to get higher.

I realized there was a power, a spiritual presence, angels, something rescuing me, steering me always to a safer higher place.

There were other people climbing the structure, but as the waves kept hitting, fewer of us would make it to higher places, until finally it seemed to be over. At one point I was riding in a boat, a motor boat, we realized and were grateful as we started the engine. We saw ducks and huge sea creatures, and were grateful knowing we would be able to find food.

In another stopping-off point I was given a camera, a complicated thing with a long telephoto lens. I took pictures right away, capturing images of people finding ways to survive, but then more waves hit and I had to drop the camera and keep climbing higher.

Finally at the top, we realized that the few of us that were left were now on what was like a new shoreline. I was walking barehanded, wearing what I was left with, grateful to have what I had.

Altar Boys go a Different Direction

At one stopping off point on another ride climbing to the top, there were all these young boys, and I didn't want to end up there with them, so I got off and took a detour. I knew later that the boys had all survived also, but I was glad that I didn't have to spend the survival time, recovery time, rebuilding time, with all those young boys, and I got a sense they were altar boys…

Instead I ended up all alone, at the top of the structure, walking and walking with the few people that were left, also walking. I wasn’t communicating with anyone yet, but knew I would be later. I was just walking, almost like floating, dazed, looking out at this lush new ocean, our new beachfront land, walking like a survivor following Jesus through the Middle East as he preached in the days before he died...

I was wearing this dress that was loose and straight like the shift I got in Thai town in L.A. that I now wear when I'm sleeping. Then I heard noises and woke up here in the fourth floor room where I'm staying one last night before moving into an apartment two flights downs in the back of this building.

Realized that ride from one place to here in the dream was like the ride I got here from Albuquerque; realized as I re-set up homemaking now here in this new place, I've survived something, and there has been a spiritual power that's carried me and kept me alive all this time.

City of Angels Blog is over

Realized the dream was telling me I survived the pedophile priest information wave, now it's time to start rebuilding. Realized that in the dream, the area full of young boys that I didn't want to be around was like the time I've spent with priest rape survivors and it's over now, I can let it go and move on to the next thing. Realized even the camera I had for a while in the dream that was beyond my ability, was like trying to keep up with this whole story on the blog, beyond my ability, so it was okay to let it go and start over something new cleaned out with almost nothing.

Just like here in this new place, in real life, I just have a few things with me.

Awake now, I got up and walked in my Thai nightgown into the bathroom in the same floating dazed manner in which I was walking at the end of the dream. Looked out the window at the new town I've landed in without knowing anyone here or why I landed here, I'm just here, and realized I am a survivor, I'm going to keep going, and it's all fine. I have been “carried” in a way, by a spiritual power, to this point and I made it.

I survived.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Down through June, at least

City of Angels Blog is going to be dark, as in not publishing, for personal reasons, until around the end of June, at least that is the plan for now. Meanwhile, I invite you to go to the link on the left where it says Roots and read the posts dating back to January 2007, to see the work we did here over the last four-plus years.

See ya all soon-

-kay ebeling

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Dream about archbishop and lawyers that woke me up at 3AM just now


I'm in an office building garage, go to the car, see my daughter Lizzie is sitting in the front seat with a cellphone in her ear.

I say, why aren't you in school? You've missed first period.

She indicates the person talking to her on the phone has convinced her not to go to school. In fact the person on the phone is destroying her self esteem, saying something in her ear that is draining the verve out of her, making her feel like she has no value at all.

Then an investigator from Kiesel Boucher’s office in L.A. contacts me and plays me a tape of that phone conversation. It's “Newt Gingrich” who everyone knows is “the assistant to Cardinal Francis George.” Gingrich is the one filling my daughter’s head with garbage so now she doesn't want to go to school anymore.

I contact my lawyer, who I’d just seen at church that morning, and tell him what's been going on and he says don’t worry, I'm working on it, but I can’t stop crying. Because now Lizzie has disappeared. She’s out there somewhere, doing sex industry work or something worse, and it's all because this guy who works for the Cardinal has been putting negative ideas in her head over the phone. I want to find Lizzie to explain that to her.

We're all in this big office building, my lawyer’s office is right next door to the archbishop. The archbishop is in his office with a door opened, his assistant standing with him, she looks like that woman who was a Salesians religious order attorney whose picture I drew and posted on this blog when I was in L.A. I walk in and I say to Francis George, “You fucked with my life, you fuck.” He is disturbed at my choice of language.

I'm crying and crying in the dream, like Jackie Kennedy this person of drama and sadness going through trauma while people are watching me.


Just went to post this dream on teh blog but only just posted it as a saved draft, as my lawyer told me to stop bloggin. When it's okay to blog again, I'll post it and it will have the time stamp of today 3:30 or so AM