‘Law & Order’ Director Arrested On Child Pornography Charges
Jason “Jace” Alexander, director of the TV series “Law & Order,” was arrested on child pornography charges Wednesday, accused of possessing and disseminating videos of young girls engaging in sex acts.
Authorities say he sent video of a young girl engaging in sex acts.
Alexander, 50, of Dobbs Ferry, New York, was accused of using an Internet torrent service to send a video in June that showed a 12- or 13-year-old girl stripping and masturbating, according to court documents obtained by the New York Post.
He also had a video file of a 6- to 8-year-old girl performing a sexual act on herself, investigators said.
lexander was charged with promoting a sexual performance by a child and possessing an obscene sexual performance by a child, according to Variety. He faces a maximum of seven years in state prison if convicted. He posted $10,000 bail, and is due in Dobbs Ferry Court on Nov. 19.
Investigators were led to Alexander after downloading child pornography files from an IP address located in Westchester County. Further investigation revealed that the IP address came from Alexander’s home, Variety reports.
Alexander worked on 32 episodes of the original “Law & Order.” He also directed episodes of “Rescue Me” and is listed as a co-executive producer on NBC’s “Blacklist,” according to Entertainment Weekly.
By Andy Campbell, Huffingtonpost.com
Sacha Baron Cohen Uncovers Possible Pedophile Ring While Filming & Reports It To FBI
Sacha Baron Cohen: We Stumbled Upon Possible Pedophile Ring During
'Who Is America' Taping
Writer, Amanda Prestigiacom
"We immediately turned over the footage to the FBI because we thought, perhaps there's a pedophile ring in Las Vegas that's operating for these very wealthy men."
Showtime host Sacha Baron Cohen revealed Wednesday that he stumbled upon what he thought could be a possible pedophile ring while taping his controversial summer series "Who is America?"
During a classic Baron Cohen-style fake interview, the comedian plays a character named Gio who eventually asks a Las Vegas concierge to get him an underaged boy as a "date." After this concierge offered to put "Gio" in touch with a person who apparently procures such boys, Baron Cohen turned the troubling footage over to the FBI.
"We were shooting some of this at the time of Harvey Weinstein. We wanted to investigate how does someone like Harvey Weinstein gets away with doing what ... get away with criminality, essentially. And the network that surrounds him. We decided that Gio would interview a concierge in Las Vegas," Baron Cohen explained to Deadline.
"During the interview, I revealed that basically Gio has molested an eight-year-old boy," he continued.
"Now, mind you, this is extreme comedy and we thought that the guy would leave the room. Instead, this concierge stays in the room and I go, listen, you’ve got to help me get rid of the problem. And this guy starts advising Gio how to get rid of this issue.
"We even at one point talk about murdering the boy, and the concierge is just saying, 'well, listen, I'm really sorry. In this country, we can't just drown the boy. This is America we don’t do that.' And then, in the end, he puts me in touch with a lawyer who can silence the boy."
Baron Cohen then asked the concierge about getting him an underage boy as a "date":
"And then at the end of the interview I say, listen, I want to go out and celebrate now.
Can you get me a date for tonight? He says, ‘what do you mean, a date?’
"I go, you know, like a young man. He says, ‘well, what kind of age?’ I say, lower than Bar Mitzvah but older than eight.
And he says, ‘yeah, I can put you in touch with somebody who can get you some boys like that.’"
The footage was immediately handed over to the FBI by Baron Cohen's team "because we thought, perhaps there's a pedophile ring in Las Vegas that's operating for these very wealthy men," he told Deadline. "And this concierge had said that he’d worked for politicians and various billionaires."
In the end, said Baron Cohen, "the FBI decided not to pursue it."
Earlier in the interview, Baron Cohen said he felt compelled to create the Showtime series because of one man: President Donald Trump.
"I haven’t done this style of comedy for many years. My last attempt at it was the movie, Bruno. Donald Trump got elected and like many people, I started emailing my friends, and sharing articles and they were sharing stuff with me, and that was how we were dealing with upset and uneasiness at having this man take over," he said.
"I realized I had to go undercover again," added the "Bruno" star. "As difficult as it was, as unpleasant as I knew it would be, I felt it was time to create new characters that were designed to expose people, and expose politicians and those in power."
Read the full Deadline interview, here.
FBI Sex Trafficking Bust Recovers 168 Kids, Some Never Reported Missing
WASHINGTON — When FBI agents and police officers fanned out across the country last month in a weeklong effort to rescue child sex trafficking victims, they pulled minors as young as 11 from hotel rooms, truck stops and homes.
Among the 168 juveniles recovered was a population that child welfare advocates say especially concerns them: children who were never reported missing in the first place.
Advocates say the roundup reinforces the need for a standardized, nationwide approach to reporting children as missing, especially those absent from state foster care systems who are seen as most vulnerable to abuse.
Concerns over unaccounted-for children aren’t new, but they’re receiving fresh attention amid heightened awareness of child sex trafficking. State and federal efforts are under way to streamline how police are alerted when kids go missing.
“This has been a movement that I would say over the last year has really galvanized,” said John Ryan, president of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children.
Legislation pending in Congress would require child welfare agencies to alert police and the center, which has specialized response teams and other resources, within 24 hours of a child’s disappearance.
The current patchwork of state and federal policies has yielded what advocates describe as a fractured safety net with little accountability.
Though states may have policies encouraging child welfare agencies to report missing children to law enforcement, most don’t have laws requiring that notification, according to the missing children center. That means children can disappear without police knowing they’re missing or being directed to look for them.
A federal law does require law enforcement agencies to enter missing children into the FBI’s National Crime Information Center — a database available to law enforcement nationwide — but that presumes police are provided the names or have enough specific details about a child.
A 2011 Government Accountability Office report said law enforcement agencies are having trouble getting timely information from state agencies.
Some children who are feared missing turn up after just a few hours. In some cases, children involved in sex trafficking leave their homes to meet their pimps for work and then return before their absence is noticed. The center worries about them as well.
The missing children center says it received more than 57,000 missing-child reports between 2009 and 2013. The organization says two-thirds of the children reported missing last year who likely were sex trafficking victims were in the care of child welfare systems when they ran away.
The difficulties aren’t limited to foster care. In the most recent action, called Operation Cross Country, far more children came from single-family homes than from families under state supervision, the FBI said. But experts say they’re concerned that children in foster care, who often come from more troubled backgrounds, are particularly vulnerable to being targeted by sex traffickers.
“These pimps really know how to appeal to these kids. A lot of these pimps come from similar backgrounds as well. They can lure them in by providing them care, feeding, attention,” Joseph Campbell, assistant director of the FBI’s criminal investigative division, said in an interview.
In a transient child welfare system, it’s a challenge for states to keep perfect track of children under their care. Many run away repeatedly but return on their own, giving guardians little incentive to report them missing each time. The Internet enables children to be prostituted through online advertisements instead of street corners, making it easier than ever for trafficking to cross state lines.
“When you come across a child and you have no information on who they are, it becomes difficult to, first of all, ID them — you don’t know if there are warrants for them or if there are medical needs for this child,” or if they’re supposed to be under state care, said Michael Osborn, chief of the FBI’s Violent Crimes Against Children unit.
About one-third of the kids rescued in the most recent Operation Cross Country had been reported missing, Osborn said. Some of the others hadn’t been gone for long enough to raise concerns from their guardians.
State policies vary.
The Minnesota Department of Human Services is issuing a bulletin to county agencies with instructions on reporting missing foster children to local law enforcement and the missing children center. It plans to propose legislation to that effect next year.
Nebraska urges foster guardians, instead of the state agency, to directly file missing children reports with police. The state says it monitors the situation and contacts police if the foster parent doesn’t.
A new Georgia law expands who can report a child as missing to include any caretaker or government entity responsible for the child, not just the parent or guardian.
Florida developed new policies following the 2000 disappearance of foster child Rilya Wilson, whose caseworker lied about visiting her while filing false reports and telling judges the girl was fine.
Sen. Ron Wyden (D-Ore.), a sponsor of legislation that would require child welfare agencies to provide notification of missing children, said failure to do so is a “moral blot on our country.”
Wyden has previously introduced similar versions of the bill, but this year those provisions were folded into broader legislation that, among other things, would increase incentives for adoption and give money to states to encourage youth sports participation. Aides say the measure, which last week passed the House, has bipartisan support.
We Saw Nuns Kill Children: The Ghosts of St. Joseph’s Catholic Orphanage
It was a late summer afternoon, Sally Dale recalled, when the boy was thrown through the fourth-floor window.
“He kind of hit, and— ” she placed both hands palm-down before her. Her right hand slapped down on the left, rebounded up a little, then landed again.
For just a moment, the room was still. “Bounced?” one of the many lawyers present asked. “Well, I guess you’d call it — it was a bounce,” she replied. “And then he laid still.”
Sally, who was speaking under oath, tried to explain it. She started again. “The first thing I saw was looking up, hearing the crash of the window, and then him going down, but my eyes were still glued—.” She pointed up at where the broken window would have been and then she pointed at her own face and drew circles around it. “That habit thing, whatever it is, that they wear, stuck out like a sore thumb.”
A nun was standing at the window, Sally said. She straightened her arms out in front of her. “But her hands were like that.”
There were only two people in the yard, she said: Sally herself and a nun who was escorting her. In a tone that was still completely bewildered, she recalled asking, Sister?
Sister took hold of Sally’s ear, turned her around, and walked her back to the other side of the yard. The nun told her she had a vivid imagination. We are going to have to do something about you, child.
Sally figured the boy fell from the window in 1944 or so, because she was moving to the “big girls” dormitory that day. Girls usually moved when they were 6, though residents of St. Joseph’s Orphanage in Burlington, Vermont, did not always have a clear sense of their age — birthdays, like siblings and even names, being one of the many human attributes that were stripped from them when they passed through its doors. She recounted his fall in a deposition on Nov. 6, 1996, as part of a remarkable group of lawsuits that 28 former residents brought against the nuns, the diocese, and the social agency that oversaw the orphanage.
I watched the deposition — all 19 hours of grainy, scratchy videotape — more than two decades later. By that time sexual abuse scandals had ripped through the Catholic Church, shattering the silence that had for so long protected its secrets. It was easier for accusers in general to come forward, and easier for people to believe their stories, even if the stories sounded too awful to be true. Even if they had happened decades ago, when the accusers were only children. Even if the people they were accusing were pillars of the community.
But for all these revelations — including this month’s Pennsylvania grand jury report on how the church hid the crimes of hundreds of priests — a darker history, the one to which Sally’s story belongs, remains all but unknown. It is the history of unrelenting physical and psychological abuse of captive children. Across thousands of miles, across decades, the abuse took eerily similar forms: People who grew up in orphanages said they were made to kneel or stand for hours, sometimes with their arms straight out, sometimes holding their boots or some other item. They were forced to eat their own vomit. They were dangled upside down out windows, over wells, or in laundry chutes. Children were locked in cabinets, in closets, in attics, sometimes for days, sometimes so long they were forgotten. They were told their relatives didn’t want them, or they were permanently separated from their siblings. They were sexually abused. They were mutilated. They were dangled upside down out windows, over wells, or in laundry chutes.
Darkest of all, it is a history of children who entered orphanages but did not leave them alive.
From former residents of America’s Catholic orphanage system, I had heard stories about these deaths — that they were not natural or even accidents, but were instead the inevitable consequence of the nuns’ brutality. Sally herself described witnessing at least two incidents in which she said a child at St. Joseph’s died or was outright murdered.
It’s likely that more than 5 million Americans passed through orphanages in the 20th century alone. At its peak in the 1930s, the American orphanage system included more than 1,600 institutions, partly supported with public funding but usually run by religious orders, including the Catholic Church.
Outside the United States, the orphanage system and the wreckage it produced has undergone substantial official scrutiny over the last two decades. In Canada, the UK, Germany, Ireland, and Australia, multiple formal government inquiries have subpoenaed records, taken witness testimony, and found, time and again, that children consigned to orphanages — in many cases, Catholic orphanages — were victims of severe abuse. A 1998 UK government inquiry, citing “exceptional depravity” at four homes run by the Christian Brothers order in Australia, heard that a boy was the object of a competition between the brothers to see who could rape him 100 times.
The inquiries focused primarily on sexual abuse, not physical abuse or murder, but taken together, the reports showed almost limitless harm that was the result not just of individual cruelty but of systemic abuse.
In the United States, however, no such reckoning has taken place. Even today the stories of the orphanages are rarely told and barely heard, let alone recognized in any formal way by the government, the public, or the courts. The few times that orphanage abuse cases have been litigated in the US, the courts have remained, with a few exceptions, generally indifferent. Private settlements could be as little as a few thousand dollars. Government bodies have rarely pursued the allegations.
So in a journey that lasted four years, I went around the country, and even around the world, in search of the truth about this vast, unnarrated chapter of American experience. Eventually I focused on St. Joseph’s, where the former residents’ lawsuits had briefly forced the dark history into public view.
The former residents of St. Joseph’s told of being subjected to tortures — from the straightforwardly awful to the downright bizarre — that were occasionally administered as a special punishment but were often just a matter of course. Their tales were strikingly similar, each adding weight and credibility to the others. In these accounts, St. Joseph’s emerged as its own little universe, governed by a cruel logic, hidden behind brick walls just a few miles past the quaint streets of downtown Burlington.
When I first started looking, it seemed that all that remained of St. Joseph’s were deposition transcripts and the sharp, bitter memories of the few remaining survivors I was able to find. But over the course of years I found that there was far more to discover. More than the former residents themselves knew, and more than was uncovered during the 1990s legal battle. Through tens of thousands of pages of documents, some of them secret, as well as dozens of interviews, what I found at St. Joseph’s and other American orphanages was a vast and terrible matrix of corroboration.
The Diocese of Burlington, Vermont Catholic Charities, and the Sisters of Providence, the order of nuns who worked at St. Joseph’s, all chose not to speak with me about these allegations. At the end of my reporting, Monsignor John McDermott, of the Burlington Diocese, provided a brief statement: “Please know that the Diocese of Burlington treats allegations of child abuse seriously and procedures are in place for reporting to the proper authorities. While it cannot alter the past, the Diocese is doing everything it can to ensure children are protected.”
Read entire article
Girl’s Father Tortured Her for a Decade to Make Her ‘Superhuman’
At least twice a week, an 8-year-old Maude Julien was made to grasp an electric fence for 10 minutes at a time without betraying any feeling — no twitching or grimacing, not even a blink.
The cruel ritual, supervised by her father, was considered a test of her willpower as he sought to turn her into the “ultimate survivor.”
“I held on with both hands, and it was most important to show no reaction at the moment of the power surges,” recalled Julien, now 60, to The Post. “I had to stay impassive.”
As if that weren’t disturbing enough, once a month, the little girl was locked overnight in a rat-infested cellar to “meditate about death.”
Julien, now a grandmother living in Paris, has chronicled her horrifying childhood in the memoir “The Only Girl in the World” (Little Brown, out Tuesday).
According to the book, she spent 18 years being mind-controlled by her paranoid dad, who belonged to an esoteric lodge of Freemasonry that dabbled in the occult and subscribed to a mishmash of oddball philosophies. He believed in a fallen world and thought that there would one day be an uprising of evil. In his mind, Maude had been chosen as a leader and his protector.
“He was most definitely insane and an alcoholic,” said Julien of her father, Louis Didier, who died in 1981 at age 79.
Didier, who became relatively wealthy from selling transport stock after World War II, created Maude for his own twisted purposes. It started when he adopted a 6-year-old girl, Jeannine, in 1936, then groomed her to become his wife.
In November 1957, Jeannine gave birth to the child whom her husband would put through experiments to raise the perfect “superhuman.”
The trio lived in an isolated mansion in northern France, where Julien was home-schooled and subjected to Didier’s countless “endurance tests.” These ranged from being dangled over a cliff and assisting in the slaughter of livestock, to drinking whiskey before having to walk in a straight line.
To this day, Julien has liver damage from all the alcohol her father forced on her.
For 10 years, between the ages 3 and 13, she was sexually abused by a laborer who worked on the estate.
Meanwhile, Julien was forbidden from leaving the compound for nearly a decade. Her only companions were her dog and two ponies whom she adored.
“I really think that, without my animals, I wouldn’t be alive today,” she said. “They gave me physical contact and warmth because nobody [in my family] was allowed to touch each other in the house.
“I learned love and compassion from them.”
She sought solace in books, though Didier dictated what she read. Eventually she became fond of Dostoyevsky and, particularly, “The Count of Monte Cristo” by Alexandre Dumas — which inspired Julien to dream of her escape.
Amazingly, despite the mind control and hypnosis, the girl resisted being totally drawn into her father’s “cult of three.” But she suffered from self-loathing and took to self-harm as a coping mechanism.
Mercifully, her savior came in 1972 in the form of a music tutor, Andre Molin, who arrived to teach her how to play the accordion and piano.
“He played along with my father for three years to gain his trust,” explained Julien of how Molin eventually helped free her from the house. “Then he got my dad’s permission to teach me at his shop in a nearby town and I eventually got a job there.”
When Julie was 18, Didier allowed her to wed a young musician she’d met during classes — with the caveat that she’d leave him after six months and return home a virgin.
She seized the opportunity and fled for good.
The six-year marriage produced a daughter, now 35. Julien later settled down with another man and had a second daughter in 1990. Julien is still estranged from her own mother, to whom the memoir is dedicated.
“She is a victim and I sent the book to her with a note,” she said. “She didn’t react directly but I heard through intermediaries that she was afraid and wasn’t happy I wrote it.”
Over the years, Julien has received intensive therapy to help cope with the traumas of the past. After receiving her psychology degree, she now treats patients of her own.
She admits that writing her memoir triggered flashbacks to her childhood horrors. But she’s relieved her story’s being published. She said: “I really want it to be a book of hope — I consider it an escape manual.”