Decades of Silence Give Way to Advocacy
David Clohessy, a Missouri survivor of clergy abuse and prominent member of the Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests (SNAP), is spearheading efforts to expand official lists of credibly accused priests while championing new legal pathways for victims. His advocacy work, shaped by personal trauma and decades of activism, reveals the ongoing challenges in achieving full transparency from religious institutions regarding historical abuse cases. In Lake Charles Tuesday, Clohessy emphasized how crucial official acknowledgment is for victims’ healing process.
5 Key Points
- SNAP advocate identifies four additional priests missing from the credibly accused list.
- New Louisiana law extends civil suit filing period for abuse victims.
- The average age of abuse disclosure is 52 years old.
- The diocese defends its current list as compiled by an independent committee.
- Abuse impacts both male and female victims across denominations.
From Victim to Advocate: A Missouri Survivor’s Journey
Clohessy’s story begins in the quiet parishes of central Missouri’s Diocese of Jefferson City, where he endured four years of abuse starting at age 11 by assistant pastor Father John Whiteley. The trauma extended beyond his own experience—one of his brothers, who later became a priest himself, was eventually placed on the credibly accused list and suspended. This deeply personal family tragedy illustrates the complex web of pain that clergy abuse creates, often affecting multiple members of the same family and rippling through generations. Through support from his spouse and family, Clohessy has transformed his pain into purpose, becoming a leading voice for survivors nationwide.
The Battle for Transparency
Through meticulous research with SNAP, Clohessy has uncovered troubling gaps in official church records. In Lake Charles alone, he highlights four priests whose names are conspicuously absent from the local diocese’s credibly accused list. The case of Fr. Peter Covas particularly stands out—he departed Sacred Heart Parish in 2002 amid sexual misconduct allegations, was later sued in 2003, and had previously resigned as diocesan financial director after loaning $225,000 of church money to a convicted fraudster. Similarly, Fr. Keith Anthony “Kappy” Portier, who served at Our Lady Queen of Heaven Parish, appears on the Lafayette Diocese’s credibly accused list but remains unlisted in Lake Charles.
New Legal Horizons for Survivors
A landmark shift occurred in June 2021 when Louisiana Governor John Bel Edwards signed legislation extending the statute of limitations for abuse victims. This new law creates a crucial three-year window for civil suits, regardless of when the abuse occurred or the perpetrator’s identity. “I can’t tell you how many victims have looked online or maybe called their next door neighbor who is a probate judge and they heard, ‘No, no, no. It’s too late,'” Clohessy shares. This legal breakthrough offers hope to countless survivors who previously believed their opportunity for justice had expired.
The Complex Nature of Institutional Response
The Diocese of Lake Charles defends its current list, which was compiled by “an independent and neutral committee of legal and law enforcement professionals.” However, this highlights a crucial issue in the church’s response to abuse allegations—each diocese independently determines its own standards for what constitutes “credibly accused,” leading to inconsistencies across jurisdictions. The spectrum of allegations ranges from inappropriate conversations to forced sodomy and rape, with the majority of cases never reaching criminal prosecution.
Understanding the Long Shadow of Abuse
The impact of clergy abuse often remains buried for decades, with the average victim not disclosing their experience until age 52. Clohessy explains that this delayed recognition stems from various factors, including the gradual nature of grooming behaviors that can confuse young victims. The trauma manifests differently in each survivor—some battle addiction, others demonstrate antisocial behavior, and many struggle with deep-seated trust issues. SNAP’s membership, comprising both men and women, indicates that predators target victims opportunistically, regardless of gender.
The Path to Healing
For many survivors, healing begins with acknowledgment. SNAP’s work, largely conducted quietly behind the scenes, provides crucial one-on-one support for victims. Since COVID-19, much of this support has moved online, creating new opportunities for survivors to connect and share their stories safely. Clohessy’s own healing journey, supported by his family and fellow survivors, exemplifies the possibility of transformation from victim to advocate. “The bulk of what SNAP does is just kind of quiet behind the scenes, offer confidential, one-on-one support and that’s been unbelievably good,” he reflects.