The women trafficked by Jeffrey Epstein and his powerful cronies continue to demand justice. Yet, true accountability seems elusive in the United States, leaving the perpetrators unrepentant and protected. Remorse requires a moral compass and empathy—traits absent in those capable of such monstrous acts. If they admitted fault, they would face disgrace and legal liability, so they prefer to hide in the shadows of unsubstantiated wrongdoing. Watching these courageous women struggle against the arrogance of powerful men only reinforces our cynicism about the intersection of vast wealth and privilege.
As I thought about these women’s stories, I was struck by the parallels in our family’s history, which shared themes of male dominance, the vulnerability of young women and a lack of accountability. Our grandfather married our grandmother when she was only thirteen or fourteen years old, while he was nearly a decade older. From her mother’s perspective, it was a practical arrangement that offered her fatherless daughter financial security. In an era when single women without income or education struggled to survive, this marriage was a survival trade-off. Yet, it begs the question: what did our grandfather have in common with a young girl from a protected, Southern background, possessing limited education and little real-world experience? After graduating from high school, he had worked rough manual jobs and served briefly in World War I. While it may have been a love match, the power imbalance between them set the stage for the next part of the story.
Nearly two decades later, our grandfather divorced our grandmother when she was in her thirties. By this time, they had two daughters, one of whom would become our mother. The aftermath of the divorce was brutal for our grandmother. With little capacity to earn a living, she was entirely unprepared to survive on her own and eventually entered a difficult second marriage. Even in a working-class setting, the social stigma was heavy. Ironically, our grandfather quickly recovered financially, eventually owning a ranch-style home in a good neighborhood and taking annual fishing holidays with his second wife.
The catalyst for the divorce makes this story particularly relevant to our themes. Our grandfather had an affair with his secretary—a woman twenty years his junior who was boarding in our grandparents’ home. The affair took place in the family home and the office, a particularly seedy betrayal. They eventually married. His new wife was right off the farm with little experience or sophistication. Once again, it highlighted an older man exploiting a substantial imbalance of power.
Our grandfather never attempted to justify his actions. Observing him as a child, he operated unperturbed by the damage he inflicted on our grandmother, my aunt, and my mother. This reverberated throughout our lives, as he insisted his daughters accept his second wife, despite the deep harm the relationship had caused. It was a clear threat: if they held him accountable, he would sever all ties.
Are there parallels between our family history and the broader horror of Epstein’s network of child exploitation? Clearly, the scale of Epstein’s crimes outweighs most other considerations, but that shouldn’t blind us to other narratives within the #MeToo movement.
Each of these stories reveals how male privilege and power are routinely used to dominate young women. Our grandfather married his second wife without social hardship, and there was never a sense he should be held accountable. His actions may have been callous, but they were not illegal. The most significant difference between the two stories is the massive scale of Epstein’s offenses, but we must also consider intent. Our grandfather, I believe, wasn’t consciously trying to exploit women; he was simply living in a period when women were second-class citizens and men could make choices with impunity. Yes, his actions were callous, but they could never compete with the scale of Epstein’s well-orchestrated, intentional exploitation of young women alongside his powerful associates.
