Posted on 09/12/2014 7:42:44 PM PDT by xzins
An arrest warrant was issued Friday in Texas for Minnesota Vikings star running back Adrian Peterson after he was indicted on a child abuse charge for using a branch to spank his son. He won't play in Sunday's game against the New England Patriots.
The Vikings said they had deactivated Peterson for Sunday's game Friday evening, just after his lawyer and the Montgomery County sheriff's office confirmed he was
Read Adrian Peterson's lawyer Rusty Hardin's statement in full below:
Adrian Peterson has been informed that he was indicted by a grand jury in Montgomery County, Texas for Injury to a Child. The charged conduct involves using a switch to spank his son. This indictment follows Adrian’s full cooperation with authorities who have been looking into this matter. Adrian is a loving father who used his judgment as a parent to discipline his son. He used the same kind of discipline with his child that he experienced as a child growing up in east Texas. Adrian has never hidden from what happened. He has cooperated fully with authorities and voluntarily testified before the grand jury for several hours. Adrian will address the charges with the same respect and responsiveness he has brought to this inquiry from its beginning. It is important to remember that Adrian never intended to harm his son and deeply regrets the unintentional injury.
(Excerpt) Read more at nbcwashington.com ...
Some of these folks would have a real wake-up call if they knew what their kids (who “grew up just fine”) were saying when they aren’t around. Oh man... would they ever.
My dad was an alcoholic nearly his entire life. Highly functional, very quiet and non-aggressive or violent, but an alcoholic.
He very rarely hit us, and when he did, it was harmless cuffing about the head and shoulders, never really making contact, with one exception: his class ring.
Let’s say I shoved my sister, and a ruckus began that brought my dad onto the scene. He would talk to you very slowly in a really low and gravelly voice while he advanced on you: “What...did...I...tell...you...about...fighting...with...your...sister?”
To this day my brothers and sisters still laugh, when we recall this, because my dad would usually mix some kind of epithet in there, and we all recalled being called a “dumb bunny”. In our memories, it is hilarious. We look at each other today in amusement and befuddlement wondering at that. What the Hell is a “dumb bunny”? (My dad very rarely swore, but did say things like “Jesus H. Christ” when particularly angry...)
Anyway, you would back slowly away until you found yourself in the corner, and then dad would take three or four ineffectual swipes at you, mostly hitting you on the shoulders and maybe one glancing one on the head as you ducked and weaved (without trying to let on that you are ducking and weaving)
Then he would tell you to go “upstairs/outside/downstairs/to your room” or whatever, and you had to walk by him to leave.
This was the most uncomfortable part.
As you squeezed by him to leave him standing there, you knew it was going to come. The anticipation was far worse, though what was coming next did indeed smart.
So you walked by, and as soon as you were by him with your back to him, his right hand would flick out like a Muhammed Ali jab, and in a motion reminiscent of the snapping of a towel, would whack you right in the occipital region of your skull.
It was his Holy Cross ring, where he had gone to a V-12 program to become a Naval Officer in WWII. It had a large red stone on it.
That stone never hit with much force, but in the same way a wet, snapping towel to the butt really stings, this did as well. We would grasp the back of our heads with both hands as we quickly walked away, feeling his stare burning into our backs.
When we were younger, my mother would make us go upstairs and wait in our rooms for our father to come home.
We dreaded the sound of the front door. After the door closed, you could hear them talking in low tones downstairs through the vents, even though you couldn’t make out a single word.
Then my father would mount the steps.
As he ascended, mixed into the steady, upward ‘clunk-clunk-clunk’ of his officer’s shoes on the wooden stairs, you would hear the “clink-clink” as he undid his belt buckle, and the light hissing sound it made as it slithered out of the belt loops.
The tension and fear grew.
And then, to completely psychologically shake you to your 8 year old foundations, he would fold the belt in half, and give it two or three quick, sharp, terrifying,snaps. He did this by grasping the folded belt in both hands, bringing them together (causing the folded belt to bow outwards in the middle with each side away from itself) then rapidly moving both hands away from each other.
The two sides of the leather belt would slap against each other and cause you to visualize a sailor tied to a mast being whipped to a bloody pulp (this was my 8 year old imagination at work)
When he entered the room, you were psychologically finished. He would admonish you in that low, threatening voice as he slapped the belt ineffectually against the sides of your legs.
The belt never bothered us when he held it, it was his terrible, intimidating, low voice that was terrifying to us. Then you would get the ring.
My mother, however, was another story. When she got angry and took the belt to us, she did it all the while shrieking with heated fiery emotion that can only be provided by a specific combination of Italian and Armenian blood being mixed together. And she hurt like Hell. When she came at us with the belt, it was like the fury of Medusa, and she meant it, not like my dad, who did it mostly for show.
Heh, one time, I used some kind of brass religious artifact to mix paint by color paints in, and didn’t clean it out, so the paint all hardened in it and discolored it. She went berserk, beat us with the belt, and when nobody came forward to admit who did it, she snapped.
She said, “That’s it. I can’t take it any more.”
With all six of us lined up there, she picked up the phone and called “The Orphanage”. We heard her wail to the person on the other end that “she couldn’t take care of us anymore” and wanted us to all be sent to “The Orphanage”.
We blubbered “Mom! Please! Don’t send us to “The Orphanage”! We’ll behave! We won’t cause any more trouble!” She relented and said she wouldn’t send us.
Today, we roar at the spectacle of my mother dialing a number (which was probably the number that had the time and the temperature) to arrange our banishment to “The Orphanage”!
God, how I miss my parents. They tried so hard to keep us in line, my poor mother doing it much of the time when my dad was away at sea.
I just described what my parents did, and it made me laugh.
But, if true, what this man did to his kid is just wrong. Leaving marks and scabs like that is too far. That is abuse, there, in my opinion.
a 4 year old? I disciplined my children too but I never left marks on them. Spanking with the hand, a switch, a wooden spoon. Never used a belt as I felt it was too severe. Especially a 4 year old. Yeah, that’s abuse.
Well, spanking does work, and so do behavior modification techniques. Many children don’t need spanking because the behavior modification techniques worked.
Inconsistency is one reason why so many children don’t learn better ways. This happy parent poster reminds me of a neighbor we once had.
Her toddler chomped down on my kids finger. Her mom said, now Tammy that’s not nice, I’m gonna count to 10, and if you haven’t stopped you will have a time out.
Well my oldest daughter happened to be there, and she stepped in and gave the kid a little flip with her finger on the kid’s shoulder, and she let loose with a wail. Then she scooped up her sister and brought her to me.
Yep, she brought blood, but I didn’t rant and rave about it either. They both learned a lesson.
So glad we agree. I did indicate that he crossed the line.
The boy is 4 yr’s old! He doesn’t even know right from wrong yet! If he needed it, a hand to his bottom would have been enough.
If the child did something to scare the father the father can spank him, not take a switch to him and leave welts!
You need to be educated not to beat a 4yr old child?
A spanking-yes-a beating-no
Dad used to keep a switch in the corner behind his chair...and, he always got a willow switch...that swished,,,and then I did my best to behave,,,!
It was common back then!
A switch is intended to sting, and it will leave a welt. I’m from a different era, I guess, and I used to get switched. It hurt. It worked. I still think my mom loved me.
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Right. When I did something wrong as a young kid, my dad would tell me to get a switch off one of the peach trees out back. These switches were just little slim suckers growing on the larger limbs. They had to be about 2-3 ft. long and if I picked a short one I had to go back and get another.
Dad would make me drop my jeans and lean face down over the bed. Between whacks on my butt and thighs, he would ask me questions; like: did I know why I was being punished or why I did so-and-so. ....After 10-15 swats with the “peach tree tea” (as he called it) he left me alone. When I was older he used his belt. .....I was never injured, but I did learn to avoid punishment by behaving.
Hmmm, I did not see it in this article... Anybody know how old the kid was or what the extent of injury was?? Cant really comment on his case without that. Yes, I know there is plenty of child abuse out there, but simply because he used a switch does not specifically indicate it to me...
I was born in ‘65 and know I never got a switch, but both my parents did... I got a belt or my Dad’s hand, both hard enough to leave a welt... and Mom broke a few wooden spoons on me too. I know one time I stuck my hand back there to block it, I thought she broke my hand... I also got spanked in 3rd grade by a teacher that had a paddle with her name spelled out in holes drilled in the paddle... to cut down on the wind resistance... LOL, My Ass said GROGG for a week... (btw, one of the few teachers names I can remember now at almost 50 years old, from all 12 years of school...)
I have heard the story a 100 times if I heard it once, when I was just under 2 years old, my mom spanked me in a movie theater and somebody called the cops on her. Cop looked at me, listened to her side of the story and said I would have beat his ass too... as he walked away.
Then my oldest son at about 9 years old, did something that I spanked him for and he says I am going to call the cops on you and turn you in for child abuse... I grabbed the phone and said here, I will dial it for you and hit *##... so the phone beeped... He freaked out, screaming no, no, no... and started bawling more than the spanking brought on!
I think it is a pretty hard fact to dispute any more, the lack of discipline by parents and school leads us to the generation of kids we now have... with no respect for anybody including themselves!
One time I knew my mom was going to belt my butt so i stuffed a towel down there and pretended to cry when she hit me, ehehehe.
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When I remarried, my new wife and I both had 6 year old girls. The girls did the typical jumping on the bed thing that most kids do, but caused the slats to shift and everything fell to the floor.
I went upstairs and put the bed back together, making them help. Then I told them I’d be back in 10 minutes to give them both a spanking.
When I went back upstairs and told them to lean over the bed, it was obvious they both had grabbed things from their clothes drawers and stuffed them into the seats of their pants. I alternated between them in giving 5 open handed swats on their padded butts. They would yelp each time, but I could tell they were trying real hard to stop from giggling out loud. ...I let them think they fooled me. They did get the message, though, and I never had to spank them again.
Well I had boys and admittedly it was more than once they were spanked....but rare just the same. The older they got that wasn't even an option because grounding them and taking privileges worked very well. One family I read about grounded their teenagers in the bathroom rather than their room where they would simply occupy themselves with their favorite things....the bathroom was perfect...!!!
There’s a photo back thread of the kids “injuries”....IMO went way over the top ...including hitting his testicles. That’s abuse.
The dreaded shoe! Them clod hoppers when flung properly could hurt but i deserved it. Never spanked my kid here though but did put him against the wall once and cracked the dry wall with him. He knew from then on to never give him mom any crap.
I see. Let’s just open up all the prisons and give the inmates warning tickets. Never need to use anything more than time outs. If the inmates continue to commit crime, it must be because they just don’t understand. /s
Many instances of children misbehaving are simply out of rebellion to legitimate authority. When the authority manifests it is impotent, there is no enforcement of the law.
“I grew up in a place where boys had the shit beat out of them by their father. It pains me to see those who try to laugh off and pretend that was somehow “good” and “normal” discipline.”
I’m appalled by these people. My father beat me all the time. My mother often put him up to it so he wouldn’t hit her. Eventually they beat me to death, not kidding, but the doctors brought me back. I was five. A provost martial had a talk with my old man and he never hit me again. His combat record kept him out of Leavenworth.
So we have freepers agreeing with brutality against a four year old, bragging about how tough they are to have survived beatings and how great their parents were to have given them.
I never laid a hand on my kids. They are all grown and superb, and they don’t hit my grandkids either.
This thread makes me sick.
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