Mountains on My Shoulders: Diary of A Survivor

By Anthony J. Raiola

One man’s journey through life from victim to survivor to outspoken activist on many social issues such as child abuse, loss, addiction, HIV/AIDS, disease, racial inequality and equality, and LGBT rights. This is a true story of what one man went through while battling all of life’s ups and downs, burning in the ashes of betrayal and discrimination trying to hold him down but rising up and becoming one of the most outspoken and controversial social activists and public speakers around. A true survivor who overcame the heaviness of the mountains weighing him down just wanting him to crumble and cave in.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662481703

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Mountains on My Shoulders

Diary of A Survivor

Anthony J. Raiola

Copyright © 2022 Anthony J. Raiola

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-6624-8169-7 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-8170-3 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The Silent Killer

The Evil Returns

Evil has a family

To my love, my heart, my nephew Brendon

What was supposed to be a wonderful childhood and new beginnings turned out to be a life of trauma and a diagnosis of an ongoing, life-threatening health issue…

A joyous, celebratory day. It was the first day of high school. I met so many extraordinary peers, lay teachers, Franciscan brothers, and Catholic nuns. Orientation was a fabulous, exciting day, and I thought I was going to be so very happy at the school of my choice. I had wonderful classmates, and some would become wonderful friends. I had interesting classes, and I was learning more and more each day. It was also at a time in my life that I was going through changes—changes within myself as a young man and family issues that would have a very big bearing on my life as a young man.

On December 29, 1975, my loving family was crushed with news of my father falling victim to a terrorist attack. He was a limousine driver at the time and had gone to pick up a passenger at LaGuardia Airport. While standing by the lockers in the airport, waiting for his passenger to walk into the waiting area, it happened. A bomb was detonated near the TWA baggage reclaim terminal at LaGuardia Airport, New York City. The blast killed eleven people and seriously injured seventy-four, leaving the airport in a shambles.

For years, my father was in many different hospitals, diagnosed with mental disorders and eventually lost his right leg below the knee. My mother, though still young, became my father’s caretaker, unconditionally loving and supporting him no matter what, as we—my brother, sister, and I—did also. I was fourteen. My brother was thirteen, and my sister was ten.

We were a very close, tight, loving family, always there for each other. It wasn’t easy. Mentally, financially, socially, we struggled, but we persevered because we were family. Family means everything.

At the same time, I was also struggling with my sexuality. I liked young women, but I sometimes caught myself looking at men, too. Between family, church, and school, I was very Catholic, so it was a shameful struggle for me. I dated women in school, yes, but I thought about my male classmates. I didn’t dare act on my feelings, and dared not let others see me look. I was confused. Some days, I would come home and cry in my bedroom. I knew that what I was feeling wasn’t normal. After all, God forbids it, and so did society.

Now here I was in high school, and one of my classes was gym. At the time, I was failing gym only because I would not shower with the other male students. I was afraid that I might look, be seen, and then either beaten or teased. I excelled in my other classes, but I was unwilling to go through the horror of shame and embarrassment that could come from being caught looking. Eventually, I was told by the gym teacher to report to the principal’s office if I wasn’t going to participate.

I walked down the long hallway to the office of Brother Alphonsus Maher, principal of Bishop Ford High School. I stood there frozen. I had never been in trouble before. I just froze. I was then told to go sit across the hall in the Attendance Office until Brother Alphonsus comes to get you. That was the first time I saw the aggression of a staff member toward a student. As I walked into the office, I was stared down by the other staff members, one being a Franciscan Brother and the other a very nasty, out-of-habit uniform nun—Brother Arnold and Sister Geraldine.

Brother Arnold was a very nice and jovial man, but Sister Geraldine was a hard, cold-faced, never-smiling woman. I sat in the office for what seemed like forever, and then Brother Alphonsus walked in, looking at me, and shaking his head.

Come, let’s go sit, and chat in my office, he said. We walked into his office; there was a chair against the wall and, further on, two chairs in front of a big desk. I sat in one chair, and he sat at his desk. He asked me what was going on. I dared not tell him the truth. Trying to keep my composure, I just told him I did