‘Made my daily life hell’ Hear from the women sexually assaulted by Port Matilda man
Three of the four women raped by a man who was sentenced Friday to decades in state prison authored statements that — when added together with letters from their family members — totaled thousands of words across nearly 40 pages.
Their accounts were spelled out in black-and-white, but painted a vivid picture of the trauma they’ve carried with them and their steps toward healing in the years since.
One has opted for grace, especially in moments when fear and anger start to creep back. Another has found strength. One sought closure, writing that she’s “closing this door and leaving it all behind me.”
Another wrote the only peace she could find is if the man who attacked her — Jeffrey P. Fields, a 38-year-old from Port Matilda — has no chance of harming another person.
Their journeys have differed, but each woman and their families described a compromised sense of security and fundamental, lifelong change in their daily lives.
“She will never be free from this pain, from this experience. She will carry this burden, this fear, this anxiety and depression with her for the rest of her life,” a sister of one of the women wrote. “My baby sister was brutally attacked and raped by Jeffrey Fields and it will haunt our family forever.”
Stolen moments of joy and sorrow
In the daylight hours that preceded the night she was raped, one woman volunteered at a charity golf tournament. It was for what has since become Centre Safe, a State College-based nonprofit dedicated to supporting survivors of sexual violence.
The hours after the attack were “somewhat of a blur,” she wrote. Her parents and brother joined her at Mount Nittany Medical Center, just days before her junior semester was set to begin.
Her mother was attentive, trying to help in any way she could. Her brother was concerned and quiet. She described her father as a man who is typically calm and kind, but was quietly distraught and in a silent panic.
The attack led to the end of a long-distance relationship with her former boyfriend, who she said expressed guilt about five years later that he “wasn’t able to be there for me.” Others told her the rape was her fault.
She also wrote that Fields robbed her of moments of both joy and sorrow. A borough police detective called her the day after her grandmother died to tell her the department was prepared to arrest him.
“I wasn’t able to process the intense grief of my grandmother’s passing because of the intense emotions I was feeling towards this news,” she wrote. “I still don’t think I’ve been able to properly grieve the loss of my grandma because it is so tangled up with the news of this case.”
Her mother wrote that she finds it difficult to visit downtown State College businesses, often because she fears seeing young women walking from party to party at night.
And there are still nights that she lies awake for hours on end out of fear of missing an emergency phone call.
“I want this court to know what an incredible woman (my daughter) is, not because of what happened to her but despite it. That she has not allowed herself to be defined by Mr. Fields’ actions should never be interpreted to mean that she wasn’t forever changed by it,” she wrote. “It has impacted the ways she interacts with the world around her and how the world has interacted with her. It has cost her opportunities and relationships. It has cost her (peace) of mind. It has cost her trust in things that should be trustworthy. And, despite all of that, she is resilient and magnificent.”
‘Our glass is shattered to this day’
The mother of another woman who was attacked was working as a teacher when she was receiving repeated phone calls from the same phone number. It was the police, who initially told her only that her daughter was assaulted.
She, her husband and their oldest daughter were en route to State College when they received another phone call from police to update them that “the rape kit and specimen collection” was completed. Her daughter moved to the side of the road so she could vomit.
As they worked to string parts of the night together, she wrote that her daughter stood “emotionless and still like a statue.”
“She’d experienced a loss of personal safety. She’d lost trust in others and felt helpless in the situation. She felt betrayed, shocked and could not believe that this happened. She must have been angry and frustrated,” her mother wrote. “Her sense of self-worth had plummeted. She felt threatened and fearful. This left her feeling lonely and isolated.”
A return trip from State College to New Jersey took two days. She reached the Pennsylvania state line and found the nearest hotel, convinced she needed to stay in the state in case she was needed.
Fields’ arrest, she wrote, has “made my daily life hell.”
“This has cost me emotionally, mentally, physically and financially. I am still in therapy 11 years later, and am unlikely to see a conclusion any time soon,” she wrote. “And even when this court case is over, the effects of this heinous act will follow me, my child, my family around for the rest of our lives.”
Her husband wrote that he was filled with hatred, unable to stop tears from streaming down his face. Her older sister expressed guilt that she wasn’t able to protect her.
“Our glass is shattered to this day. Our relationships are different. We can’t say certain things or put her in certain situations. I can’t heal from not protecting her from the worst thing that has ever happened to her,” she wrote. “I am proud of who she is and what she has accomplished.”
Leaving Pennsylvania behind
At least one of the women never returned to Penn State. She moved back home and transferred to another university closer to home, which left her “devastated and even angry” when she saw friends return to Happy Valley to embrace everything about Penn State. She graduated in six years.
There were times when she vomited while dropping her younger brother off at school because of preventative HIV medication. Therapy sessions, she wrote, weren’t much help because she was told she “seemed fine” after a few weeks.
She even attempted to die by suicide. She’s since married and graduated with a master’s degree.
The two weeks that followed Fields’ arrest left her “a mess.” She locked herself in a bathroom and cried after realizing a quote in a news article was something she told investigators at the hospital.
“I decided I want this statement to only be about me and my story, so I don’t have anything to say about what happens next,” she wrote. “For the second and last time, I’m closing this door and leaving it all behind me.”
‘I am never not thinking about it’
One woman wrote that she was “sickened” by her body and her soiled clothes as she was examined at the hospital. What followed was a drive home that took more than three hours.
Weeks of isolation rolled on, unaided by an overpowering cocktail of medications. One of her sisters recommended therapy, but it offered no healing because she wasn’t ready to relieve that night.
“The blame was all mine. It rested on my shoulders like a 10 ton elephant. I had put myself and my entire family in this situation,” she wrote. “How could I have done this to them? Will life ever be the same again? To this day, the relentless guilt has never escaped me.”
The attack came less than three weeks before she was set to be a bridesmaid in her sister’s wedding. What should have been a glorious day the family looked forward to for years turned into a “sad and tortuous affair,” she wrote.
Her nights are defined by repeatedly checking that her door is locked. She can’t watch TV without first making sure it has nothing to do with sexual assault.
“I am no longer able to enter into an interaction or experience, familiar or not, without thinking I am in some sort of danger. This has caused me to be unable to form meaningful, lasting relationships,” she wrote. “... I have to practice doing the mundane tasks of life in order to not be overcome with fear. Do you know how demoralizing that can be?”
Her father wrote that he lives in a “constant state of anger.” He and his wife are plagued with guilt, which has strained their marriage. And following two years of below average performance ratings for the first time in his career, he retired from his job before he expected.
One of her sisters has had frequent panic attacks, including the first time she drove back to Penn State for a football game. Her anxiety and depression “increased substantially.”
“My mom is shattered completely beyond repair. She (busies) herself with this and that, but I can see it behind her gaze, looming sadness and fear and hatred for herself,” another sister wrote. “She feels like a failure. And she doesn’t deserve to because she did everything right for us.”
Conversations don’t come easy either. A sister expressed feeling unworthy of discussing her second-hand trauma, often prompting her to avoid the discussion altogether.
But when she did talk about her pain, it revealed how deep of a wound the crime left.
“I didn’t want to bring up the topic if she wasn’t already thinking about it, dredging up her sadness just because I was simply sad. She simply said, ‘I am never not thinking about it,’ “ she wrote. “That’s when I knew how thick the wall was that she built for herself to hide this pain from the public.”