Taking it back..Story of an East Bay Punk Grrrl.
It’s been exactly 20 years and I am still very emotional over the whole thing. I am going to try and tell my story, to the best of my memory. My therapist said many of these memories have been repressed because it was absolutely abusive behavior, and I was so young. My Corbett story: How he quickly became my ‘best friend’.
Technically I was 13 years old when I went to my first Gilman show. It was an early, all weekend showcase for SPAM records - Geekfest 1999. I met many folks there who are still my friends to this day. I met the owner of SPAM - Corbett. His band was headlining. He basically asked me what I was doing there and if I had a good time. He said he was stoked to see young folks get involved in the scene. He told me to come back and volunteer. It was exactly what I needed in my life at the time. A music oriented community. Sooner or later he invited me around SPAM records office when they first moved into East Oakland. I spent the next several years basically attached to this man’s hip.
Helping the record label, going to shows, and basically hiding out at the office space. He had a partner at the time so I thought I was just part of the family. He and I talked on the phone when I was at my parents house. He walked me to and from BART. He called my mom to let her know I was in good hands and I was a huge help. He told her he would pay me what he could - and it was like a job. He would let me send emails and contact some of the folks that did distro for the label like Tobi Vail. He asked me to do it because he knew I loved Bikini Kill. He was so supportive, or so I thought. I honestly can’t say I’d be the same person without him. But as time went on, things changed…and it got weird and very uneasy. Also changing me as a person.
I was never romantically or sexually attracted to Corbett so I thought it was OK. He had a girlfriend, I had a friend in him…until it became apparent to everyone around us he was obsessed with me (for lack of a better term). He gave me old pictures of himself from when he was a kid. He told me his life stories. He told me his dreams for SPAM and Bobby Joe. But as this went on, I felt like it was so weird for this way older man to have a real close '15 year old’ bestie while having a relationship. It got weirder and weirder for me, but by this time I had made a circle of friends who quickly became my family. It was more or less brushed under the rug by myself.
I wanted to get out of my parents house, I wanted to be a part of something more. I knew this was my way out, and my new way of life. Fast forward to looking for the SPAM warehouse (now I am 16). I helped him find a space to rent. It was a proud and exciting moment for us all. Corbett moved into a small room above the practice rooms in the warehouse. It was loud during the day, and his health was declining (Drugs? Alcohol? Mental illness? Unsure). His teeth were rotting, he was vomiting frequently - I always thought he was sneaking drugs, but something was else off. He would take 1 hit of pot and his eyes would go crooked. He stopped making sense. His emotions were out of control. I did a lot of research and concluded his melatonin levels were so low so drugs or alcohol of any kind would turn him into a babbling cross eyed frenzy. I was unsure what it was exactly, but I was highly cautious of him at this point.
I finally moved into the warehouse. He borrowed a van, packed up my things from my parents house, and drove me to East Oakland. He couldn’t afford his rent, so I took over the small room above the practice spaces. I thought it was helping him and the space. But people were mad at me about it. They thought I was taking advantage of him. It was awkward because they were basically my roommates. I was too young to know any better. I just wanted to get out - and again, he told me I was helping him and not to listen to anyone else. He stayed on the couch right outside of the room. His emotions/actions got crazier and crazier. One night, he half shaved his head, walked to the overpass over the Oakland freeway, threw his new cell phone over, came back and started screaming. Babbling. Incoherent. I was by “my room” and he was down the hallway. He gave me a strange look and charged at me like a bull. I don’t exactly remember what happened, but my body ended up against a wall (I think I was thrown off my feet). 3 large folks had to subdue him and hold him down. I ran and hid in a bedroom downstairs for hours until he found me.
I realized without his words - he wanted to be with me and he knew I never, ever would. The age difference was enough to make it unrealistic. It started to feel very dangerous. When I dated other guys, he got jealous. I realized he couldn’t handle me being around at all. The whole thing was a horrible idea in retrospect, and I blamed myself - as my 'roommates’ also blamed me. The folks I dated felt uncomfortable around him, and that I was so close with him. I should have listened.
I moved out within the month to SF. He moved with his family to get better. He was mad at me the entire time. He yelled at me over the phone, screaming. He wrote me long letters (I might even still have one or two). He professed his love for me and then quickly started dating someone from around where he was staying. I thought the heat was finally off of me. They moved into an apartment on Telegraph months later. He threw a party and decided to invite me. I thought it would be fine since he had a girlfriend. “Maybe we can make amends” I thought. We started hanging out again. He apologized for everything. He said he was a changed and sober man. They broke up and she moved back home. I didn’t realize until later, but it was because we were friends again. She even felt weird about it. But I think a huge part of me felt sorry for him - and he was ultimately like family.
At age 16/17, I got a job on Telegraph in Berkeley, and he said I could go to his house so I didn’t have to commute from SF, if I needed to. I was there often enough, but I still felt weird about it. THIS is where my memory gets foggy. I have faint memories of me waking up with him on top of me. I honestly do not remember what happened before or after. All I remember is no lights were on, the sun was going down, it was so dark, and I ran like a bat out of hell, straight to BART/SF. After that, I broke off all contact with him. He turned into that big ball of rage all over again. Yelled at me over the phone, calling me over and over just to scream at me. He said he could not handle me not wanting to 'be’ with him. I stopped answering my phone. I quit my job on Telegraph and stayed in SF for several years. I wrote him off forever.
I cannot help but think he took advantage of me. He primed me. It extremely affected who I was and how I had friendships and relationships with men. He knew I had a rocky relationship with my parents, and he took full advantage of it.
I didn’t want it to happen the way it did. I didn’t want to admit he was priming/preying on me. I recently found out he had done the same thing with other women, all under the age of 18 at the time. I’ve told a very similar story to that group about 2 years ago, but it was in a vacuum.
He needs to apologize to his victims. He needs to admit and he and his friends were wrong.
tangentwithtanner
ellievsbear
dailybridgerton
2087
kaledo-art
jbbartram-illu
pixelskylines
germansingergirl
