June 3, 1989—US District Courthouse

June 3, 1989—US District Courthouse

Frederick Rooney

Alan Stedsan: Thank you for being here today, Mr. Rooney.

Fred Rooney: Oh, I’m Mr. Rooney now?

AS: Fred, if you prefer.

FR: So shoot, Alan. What is it you want to know? About the old kiddie fiddler or something else?

AS: We can start there, if you like.

FR: Of course I don’t like it. You think I want to talk about that shit?

AS: I understand not everyone feels comfortable—

FR: Is it comfy for you to listen to it?

AS: Why don’t we start somewhere else, then? With daily life at Coram House.

FR: You mean shit like what we ate for breakfast?

AS: Sure.

FR: We ate orphan gruel. I know because every goddamn day it was my job to take a bucket of leftover slime we couldn’t choke down over to the dump.

AS: You can’t smoke in here, Mr. Rooney.

FR: Well, shit. You should be having these little chats outside, then.

AS: If you’d like a break—

FR: I don’t need a damn break. I’m not here to cry on your shoulder. I’m still waiting for you to ask a goddamn question.

AS: All right, do you remember going to the beach when you were at Coram House?

FR: The beach?

AS: Yes. With the other children. Or perhaps the nuns.

FR: Why do you care about that?

AS: I told you. Just to get a sense of the rhythms of daily life. What it was like.

FR: That’s pretty fucking specific.

AS: All right. Let’s get specific, then. What do you remember about Sister Cecile?

FR: What are they saying about her? Those sad fucks out there, I mean.

AS: There are a number of accusations of abuse against Sister Cecile, if that’s what you’re referring to.

FR: They don’t know anything.

AS: Who doesn’t know anything?

FR: Them—all them out there. She saved half of them and they don’t even know it.

AS: Who saved them?

FR: My turn for a question. When am I going to get my money?

AS: Are you referring to a settlement?

FR: I tell my story with all the dirty details and you go get the money. Am I missing something?

AS: Mr. Rooney, settling a case—if that is the direction things go—is a long—

FR: Oh, that’s the direction things are gonna go. Trust me.

AS: Do you have something you’d like to share?

FR: Not a blessed fucking thing.

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