Healing Begins for Wounds of Long Ago : Molestation: New group helps adults who say they were victims as children of sexual abuse by priests they trusted.

For most of their lives they dared not, or could not, tell anyone their childhood secret.

But during discussions in a newly created group, these adults talked openly about being molested as children by priests in their homes, on trips or in church. For years, they said, their memories were suppressed.

In an office here, an Anaheim woman has begun a support group especially for people who say they were victims of sexual abuse by priests they trusted.

“This kind of abuse, the effects, can really stay with a person, especially in silence,” said Mary Staggs, the 30-year-old who about one month ago founded the local chapter of a nationwide, nonprofit support group called the Survivors’ Network of Those Abused by Priests.

Members of the group, about 15 men and women from Los Angeles, Orange and Riverside counties, have started meeting every other Monday night to talk about how to cope with their past. Staggs said SNAP is also trying to influence church officials’ dealings with allegations of sexual abuse.

Members have discussed how to regain self-esteem and build a sense of intimacy and trust with other people, helping repair emotional damage resulting from abuse, said Michael Moyneur, 39, of Mission Viejo, who is suing a Roman Catholic brother who allegedly abused him more than 15 years ago.

“Hearing other people describe those feelings, you realize it’s not just you, you’re not alone. There’s a certain freedom about being able to talk about the unspeakable.”

The discussions can also help members overcome the stigma that some people place on those who claim to have been molested many years ago, Staggs said.

“Some people say, ‘Why don’t you just forget it? Just go on with your life. That happened so long ago,’ ” Staggs said. “But even though it happened so many years ago, it still happened. It’s like because it happened so long ago it doesn’t count? It’s a violation. This is someone in a position of power who did this. I guess unless it’s really happened to you, it’s hard to understand.”

SNAP’s creation locally takes place as the Roman Catholic Church grapples with an increasing number of accusations of sexual abuse against priests. During the last decade, about 400 priests nationwide were reported to authorities for alleged sexual abuse of children, according to Jason Berry, an author and journalist who studied such cases for several years.

In Orange County, church officials have recently investigated allegations of sexual abuse. The diocese suspended Father Richard T. Coughlin earlier this year after five men alleged that he molested them as youths more than a decade ago. Coughlin has denied any wrongdoing. The diocese has also settled at least three lawsuits since 1988 filed by people who claimed to have been molested.

Church officials nationwide say they have become more sensitive to the concerns of those who claim to have been abused by priests.

Roman Catholic bishops point to a resolution, created last year, designed to help guide dioceses in responding to such claims. Diocesan officials, when confronted with an allegation of molestation by a priest, should “reach out to the victims and their families and communicate our sincere commitment to their spiritual and emotional well-being,” one of the recommendations states.

At the semiannual bishops meeting in Washington in November, national organizers of SNAP, along with members of other victim support groups, met with some of the prelates to emphasize concerns over how the church handles sexual abuse cases.

“Certainly, the meeting was influential in helping (the bishops) understand the grief of survivors,” said Deacon Chris Baumann, a spokesman for the National Conference of Bishops. But, Baumann added, “I think we have to be careful, too, about the suspected perpetrator. When people would say we do not go far enough, there is nothing else we can do.”

Many members of SNAP in Orange County, who remain disappointed with the church’s response to their accusations of abuse, said they find healing in the group discussions.

“To be able to tell my story is a very healing thing,” said Robert Pelikan, 55, of Riverside. “I need to tell it over and over and over again. I don’t want to be a victim all my life. I want to grow out of this. With SNAP, I’m helping myself first, but in the process I think I’m helping other people as well.”

Another local SNAP member, Arne Andersen, 41, of Long Beach, said, “I’ve never really talked to people with the same experience. Friends and family are good, but you don’t want to wear them down with it. It’s good to talk about it with other people too, as something you can all understand.”

About 800 people have attended SNAP meetings nationwide in cities like Boston, Oakland and St. Louis, said Barbara Blaine, 36, who founded the group in Chicago in late 1991.

“People are finally finding a place where they can belong. They are finding a place to speak about what happened to them, and going to the church for many was not a place where they were believed.”