Aftershocks
The Pentucket hazing case still torments a victim and a community
By Jackie MacMullan, Globe Staff
Originally published in The Boston Globe, March 3, 2002
He was drifting off to sleep when he heard them coming. There were three, maybe four of them, striding through the darkened cabin, their flashlights beaming, while boys in military-style cots on either side trembled, praying they would not be chosen.
Fifteen-year-old Matt Weymouth did not have to pray. He kept telling himself that football coach Steve Hayden had assured him he would not be hazed, even though the unspoken tradition at Pentucket Regional High School called for some sophomores to endure secret initiations. The past couple of years, this annual rite of passage almost always occurred at Camp Marist in Effingham, N.H., where the football team held three days of preseason training camp, and players and coaches slept in separate cabins. Weymouth was so distressed by past stories of hazing that he almost didn't try out for the team.
"I told Coach Hayden I didn't want to get hazed," Weymouth said months later. "He said I shouldn't worry. He told me nothing would happen to me.
"I believed him."
Yet here it was, the first night of camp, and the upperclassmen were on the prowl, their flashlights moving closer. Weymouth lay motionless. The boys walked past him, then converged on their first victim, pinning down their teammate in his bunk as he shouted and struggled to wriggle free.
Not one of the more than 20 boys lying in their cots moved to help their terrified teammate. They were too terrified themselves.
"I just put my head under the covers and pretended I was asleep," said Weymouth. "I didn't want to draw attention to myself."
The assault lasted only minutes. The victim was "tea bagged" - held down while one of the flashlight boys dragged his testicles across the victim's face. The degrading assault was made worse by the fact that one of the attackers was the victim's brother.
For the rest of the night, Weymouth and the other sophomores thrashed restlessly in their cots.
"Nobody could sleep after it was over," Weymouth said. "It was bad. It wasn't any fun lying there listening to it."
The following afternoon, Weymouth said, he was playing Ping-Pong with friends when junior nose guard Adam Chapman asked him if he had any extra batteries for his Walkman.
As Weymouth went to his bunk to look, Chapman grabbed him and began dragging him toward a small sitting area in the cabin.
"He was on me so fast," Weymouth said, "I barely had time to react. Besides, the kid can bench more than I could ever dream of."
Weymouth briefly broke free, but soon Chapman had help. Junior quarterback Scot Wilks and fullback Mike Bianchi, said Weymouth, helped to hold him down, so Wilks could "tea bag" him.
"I was trying to fight them, hit them, anything," Weymouth said, "but it wasn't like anyone was going to help me."
Just as he thought his ordeal was ending, Weymouth said, the players flipped him over, pulled his pants down, and pinned him while Bianchi took a peeled banana and attempted to violate him with it. Weymouth's flailing body and horrified cries finally persuaded the attackers to stop, he said, but not before they issued a warning.
"The last thing they said was, 'If you tell Coach, we'll beat the crap out of you,'" Weymouth said.
Wilks, Chapman, and Bianchi, who have admitted to the "tea bagging" of Weymouth at Camp Marist last August, did not return calls from the Globe. A member of Bianchi's family, who wished to remain anonymous while a criminal investigation into the hazing continues, would comment on only one matter: that Bianchi vehemently denies attempting an assault with a banana.
"It never happened," said the family member.
Priorities questioned
The fallout for Pentucket, whose students come from the towns of Groveland, West Newbury, and Merrimac, is a festering scandal some dismiss as "boys being boys" but others insist is a clear violation of the law and a symbol of a larger, underlying problem. The furor has pitted neighbor against neighbor, teammate against teammate, friend against friend, even husband against wife.
"I'm floored by the mind-set of this community," said Elizabeth Fahey, whose son plays football for Pentucket. "I'm ashamed to be a member of this community. I can't tell you what it's like to stand on the sidelines and hear people say, 'Oh, it's just guy stuff.'
"What happened at this school is sexual assault. The problem is people are unwilling to think straight when it comes to choosing between the right thing to do and playing in the [high school] Super Bowl."
Even as details of the hazing came to light over the next couple of months, Pentucket completed an undefeated regular season, fueling charges from some parents that the school had a win-at-all-costs mentality.
"We worked really hard to be No. 1," said junior free safety Pete Valli, "but that's been erased from everyone's minds. Now it's like no one respects the football program."
For Weymouth, who said he suffers from attention deficit disorder and was on medication for depression before the hazing episode, the incident and its aftermath have been devastating. He has since left Pentucket, and his parents are planning a civil lawsuit against school officials.
Hayden declined to be interviewed for this story, but sources within the Pentucket school system say he told them he had no prior knowledge of the hazing incidents and was prepared to accept whatever punishment principal Arlene Townes and superintendent Michael McLaughlin meted out to the players involved, even if it meant dismissing them from the team.
A witness's account
On the day Weymouth said he was sexually assaulted, Valli was lying in his bunk, which was directly next to the sitting area, when he saw Bianchi and Weymouth "wrestling."
"I just stayed in my bed," said Valli. "I didn't want to be part of it.
"But then I heard Mike Bianchi say, 'Let's stick a banana up his bum.' He was kind of laughing. I think he was joking. I looked up and saw Mike peel the banana, but then someone knocked it out of his hand. The banana broke, and some other kid picked it up and started chasing Mike with it."
Valli said Weymouth's pants were not down, and, as far as he could tell, the banana never touched him.
"It's too bad this happened," said Valli. "I feel bad for Matt. He never gave me a problem. But I don't hate those other guys, either. They're my friends. It's something they regret. They know they were wrong."
Weymouth said he witnessed four more hazing incidents after his own, including one sophomore being forced to perform an "atomic sit-up," in which the victim has a towel placed over his head, then is told to do a sit-up as other players hold him down with the towel. As the victim struggles to sit up, the other boys suddenly let go of the towel, and the victim jerks upward, slamming into another boy's buttocks. According to team sources, the Pentucket player who completed the "atomic sit-up" was left with his nose bloodied.
When the three harrowing days at Camp Marist were finally over, Weymouth hoped to forget they ever happened.
Even though he initially said nothing about the assault on him, it was a favorite topic in the halls of the school within a week. By the end of September, the football staff confronted the team, demanding to know the details of the hazing, and reported its findings to the school administration. As the details emerged, the state of New Hampshire launched a criminal investigation, which is ongoing.
Weymouth's parents demanded that the players involved be thrown off the team. Instead, seven players were suspended from one to five days by Townes, who said the punishment was based on outlines in the school's handbook. Wilks was suspended five days, causing him to miss two games, against Amesbury and Wilmington. Bianchi and Chapman were suspended three days and missed the Amesbury game. They weren't allowed to play in the games because they missed practices because of the suspensions.
"Our code of discipline is clear," said Townes. "The penalties are spelled out. I made a decision. We don't just throw kids off a team. We don't do it for chemical dependency or physical altercations. We work with these kids and try to find solutions."
When asked if those guidelines should still hold if sexual assault is involved, Townes answered, "I'm not going to get into that. Whenever there's an incident at our school, I always tell the parents they have the option of pressing charges."
Disturbing comments
Hazing has a long history and is an ongoing problem among sports teams and fraternities. In the past 20 years, the Brockton High School track team and Watertown and Medford football teams have dealt with publicized hazing scandals, yet those cases don't seem to deter individuals in other programs from continuing the practice.
Pentucket's history of hazing was discussed in detail on a Web site set up by former Pentucket players. When some ex-players learned that Weymouth had gone public with his story, and that Pentucket was no longer welcome to use Camp Marist for football training, they used the Web site as a forum to vent their anger and boast of their own hazing exploits.
Consider these words posted on the Web site: "What kind of bastard would take away Camp Marist from Pentucket football? And then it hit me; some [expletive]. I can't help but think of all the victims, and even the nameless ones who will never be able to experience the thrill of an Atomic Sit-up. I take great pride in the fact that I started this disgusting but oh-so outrageously hilarious ruse at Pentucket."
Mike Bianchi's brother, Kenny, an ex-Pentucket player, questioned in vulgar language the courage of the players who were hazed, writing, "Just because some little [expletives] were too [expletive] to take what was coming to them and went to tell their mommy's [sic]. It's even worse the parents of those little [expletives] went around and made a stink The stuff that went on at Camp Marist was nothing in comparison to the past. Those kids need to earn respect."
Mike Lovett, Pentucket class of 2000, whose father accompanied the team to Camp Marist last August, reminisced about his favorite memories of Marist, including "seeing some [expletive's] face hit naked Brad's [expletive] as hard as possible, now that's humor. Taking a shower with 13 other naked men in a shower built for two, not knowing the names of half the kids in there, where else can you get that kind of unity? Camp Marist is a place where sexually deprived teenagers can take out some frustration on younger, weaker kids, and there's nothing wrong with that."
When Lovett, who is listed as an editor of the Web site, was notified that police had monitored the comments, he said in a subsequent e-mail that his words were "extremely tongue in cheek, and not meant to be taken seriously." He then questioned Weymouth's credibility by citing his "fainting spells and emotional disorders," and added, "I'm willing to bet that his next trip to the beach or anywhere local will not be a fun one for him."
When reached by the Globe, the Lovett family declined comment.
Townes condemned the entries on the Web site, which is not officially affiliated with Pentucket, as "despicable."
"Obviously I can't control what these kids say or write," said Townes. "Kids often say terrible things, and they don't understand the ramifications when they are put out in public."
Dr. Norman Pollard of Alfred University, who has conducted two extensive studies on hazing on the high school and college levels, said the entries on the Web site are proof Pentucket should be handling this crisis "with the same seriousness" as the Columbine shootings.
"If you do not react strongly, it will keep on escalating," said Pollard, who cited Columbine as a school community with a long history of hazing. "Our research shows students who were hazed the year before are more likely to do the hazing the following year and ratchet it up a notch. This community is dealing with an extremely volatile situation, and needs to address it as such."
Both Townes and McLaughlin said Pentucket has taken steps to address the incident, including requiring the perpetrators to undergo counseling, which was administered by an outside expert and monitored by the school. Counseling also was provided for the victims.
A number of Pentucket parents do not feel that is enough.
A petition spearheaded by Lisa Lawson, who has two children in the school system, began circulating last weekend, calling for the dismissal of Hayden, Townes, McLaughlin, and athletic director David Morse, on the grounds that they had ample opportunity to handle the hazing situation properly but did not take serious enough action.
"They had a chance to do the right thing," Lawson said, "but they didn't start truly reacting until the bad publicity started."
Heavy toll
Weymouth, meanwhile, continues to pay a price for stepping forward and exposing Pentucket's dirty little secret.
"This whole thing has just about ruined my life," said Weymouth.
After initially trying to block out his experience at Camp Marist, his mixed feelings of humiliation and rage made it impossible to enjoy football. Weymouth said the incident made it difficult for him to concentrate in class and damaged his self-esteem. He felt betrayed by Hayden, who was also his junior varsity basketball coach and the person he chose to confide in regarding his hazing fears.
Since Weymouth initially did not tell his parents about the hazing, they were left to wonder about his tumbling grades, his somber moods, and his erratic behavior. "I was acting crazy," he said.
Weymouth said he was so depressed that he no longer wanted to play football. After suffering a concussion following a fainting spell in his bedroom, he spent three weeks on the sidelines in street clothes. When he was healthy enough to play, he stayed on the sidelines anyway.
"I couldn't stand the thought of being on the football field with those guys," he said.
Classmates continuously asked Weymouth about the incident with the banana. They asked him at his locker, in the lunchroom, in gym class.
When Pentucket played Triton on Thanksgiving, some Triton fans threw bananas on the field. Weymouth said he nearly became physically sick.
"They made such a big deal about how football players should keep everything within the family," said Weymouth. "But I never told anyone what happened to me. I was too embarrassed. I was too ashamed. So how come everyone in school knew about it?"
On Sept. 24, Townes called Weymouth to her office and asked him about the hazing he endured at Camp Marist. Weymouth confirmed what she knew but denied the banana incident.
The next day in practice, Weymouth said, Hayden pulled him out of practice and apologized to him. He asked Weymouth if the rumor he heard about an incident involving a banana was true. Weymouth said he denied it again.
"It was too hard for me to talk about it," Weymouth said. "I just wanted people to stop asking me about it."
Weymouth would repeatedly deny knowledge of the banana incident, except to a friend on the team, until the morning following the Thanksgiving game, when he finally broke down and told his mother.
By then, the penalties for the hazing had been handed out. Back in September, Hayden had ordered all players involved in the incident to turn themselves in. He later instructed each of them to personally apologize to their hazing victims.
Then he turned over his findings to Townes and McLaughlin, who handed down the suspensions.
Weymouth's parents, unaware of the incident involving the banana, met with McLaughlin and demanded to know why the punishment was so lenient.
"We told Mike McLaughlin we wanted those kids off the team," said Scott Weymouth, Matt's father. "We wanted validation for the victims."
McLaughlin told the Weymouths he would consider their request. Two days later, he informed them he had decided on mandatory counseling instead.
Coaches weigh in
Hayden had warned the football team before departing for Camp Marist that there was to be no hazing. But he did not spell out the consequences for breaking that rule.
Lexington High School football coach Bill Tighe, who has been in coaching 52 years, said that unless you specify "zero tolerance" for hazing, "you might as well forget it."
"Every year, you can see upperclassmen who are itching to pick on the younger kids," Tighe said. "I always tell them at the beginning of the year, 'If I see any kind of hazing, you're gone. End of story.'
"I can't stand that kind of stuff. I've been following what's going on up there [at Pentucket], and it absolutely disgusts me."
BC High football coach Jim Cotter, who has been at the school 42 years, said his staff repeatedly emphasizes the honor—not the right—of playing for the team as a deterrent to hazing.
"We stress from the beginning that any new player in our program is to be treated equally," Cotter said. "I tell my kids I don't like bullies, our staff doesn't like bullies, and they shouldn't either."
Yet Cotter said he sympathizes with Hayden.
"None of us should ever say, 'It won't happen here,' because it could," Cotter said. "It has happened to some outstanding coaches. The key is to deal with it strongly and forcefully when it does."
According to St. John's Prep in Danvers coach Jim O'Leary, a friend of Hayden's and a resident of Groveland, the incident has left the Pentucket coach "physically ill."
"Steve is a nice man and a good coach," said O'Leary. "But the bottom line is it's still his responsibility to keep those kids safe, no matter how nice you are."
O'Leary said a student-athlete caught hazing at St. John's Prep would likely be expelled. Both Tighe and Cotter said hazing infractions at their schools would result in dismissal from the team.
Twice a victim
What Lorraine Weymouth, Matt's mother, finds so distressing is that her son was harassed so much following the disclosure of his hazing that he left Pentucket in early December when the school said it couldn't ensure his safety.
"He's the one that was assaulted, yet he's the one that continues to pay the price," she said.
On Dec. 2, Pentucket lost to Bishop Feehan in the Division 4 Super Bowl. Matt Weymouth chose not to attend the game. He went to a movie instead.
Weymouth spent the rest of December in North Attleboro, staying with his aunt, and briefly attended school there. He came home for Christmas break, just in time to hear about the Pentucket-Newburyport boys hockey game, during which bananas rained down on the ice.
Since the flurry of publicity, the Pentucket school system has established a subcommittee to review the school policy on hazing. If criminal charges are brought against her students, said Townes, she may revisit the punishments handed out. But the banana incident, said Townes, "while a very, very serious allegation, is strictly that - an allegation, one the victim in question denied from the beginning."
Fahey said she doesn't understand why the other forms of hazing that students have already admitted to are considered separate and less serious incidents.
"That mind-set alone enrages me," said Fahey. "There's no doubt in my mind the incident with the banana happened. Why would the young man make it up? It has destroyed him.
"But even if it didn't happen, these young men were still held down and sexually assaulted."
Fahey stopped attending Pentucket football games halfway through the season. She was sickened, she said, by the attempts of a vengeful football community to turn the victim into the accused.
"I am frightened by what is happening," Fahey said. "McLaughlin has done nothing to diffuse the tension, and if they're not careful, someone is going to get killed.
"These kids are going to tip a few back some night, and get all puffed up, and go out looking for trouble. They are going to do that because the message they've been given is the consequences for their actions really aren't all that serious."
McLaughlin said his administration has treated the hazing incidents as "an alarming wake-up call," and he expects the new guidelines to be far more stringent.
"We have taken, and will continue to take, the issues of school safety very seriously," McLaughlin said.
Uncertain future
Valli's father, Matt, said his concern is how the victims—particularly the ones who have not come forward—will cope with their trauma down the line.
"I've seen in my job how past events can really affect kids," said Valli, who is a police officer. "This will never die in Pentucket. Some of these poor kids will be dealing with this the rest of their lives."
As it stands, Chapman, Bianchi, and Wilks are eligible to suit up for Pentucket next season, though many expect further disciplinary action. And Hayden is still their coach. Weymouth says Wilks has called him a few times to apologize and ask if he needs anything.
"I think Scot is really sorry this whole thing happened," Weymouth said. "I don't know about the other guys."
Weymouth is being tutored at home while his parents try to find another school for him. In his spare time, he lifts weights, plays basketball, and occasionally dials the phone number of his former best friend, who has refused to talk to him since the hazing story hit the newspapers.
"I used to think if I had to do it over, I wouldn't play football," said Weymouth. "But then I realized this would still be going on. At least now the hazing is going to stop."
He hesitated for a moment, the strain of the past six months etched into his tired, young face.
"At least I think it's going to stop."