I tried again and again. She didn’t say no or stop. She just sat there.”

I tried again and again. She didn’t say no or stop. She just sat there.” — Terry Wheaton

I urged her to do something she rejected, and I played on our emotional entanglement until she did.”

I urged her to do something she rejected, and I played on our emotional entanglement until she did.” — Arthur J. Slavin

I have never forgotten the look on her face: she seemed at once hurt, disappointed, indignant, and bewildered.”

I have never forgotten the look on her face: she seemed at once hurt, disappointed, indignant, and bewildered.” — Gene Biringer

Late on the Friday afternoon of Sept. 21, the same week that Christine Blasey Ford went public with accusations of sexual assault against Brett Kavanaugh, The New York Times invited male readers to tell us about their high school experiences. Had you, we asked, ever behaved toward girls or women in ways you now regret?

By Monday morning, we had more than 750 responses.

Not all of them were from men recounting past experiences of committing or witnessing sexual assault. Some told us that they’d always conducted themselves respectfully: “We knew VERY well what was appropriate and not appropriate,” one wrote. “Forcing women to do anything was not only illegal, it was grotesque.” A number of men told of being too terrified of girls to have done anything of the sort. A number of women said they were frustrated to see that we were once again seeking to view the world from a male perspective.

But a remarkable number of stories poured in from men about past misbehavior. The stories covered a wide spectrum of sexual misconduct, some of it deeply disturbing: There were multiple submissions that discussed participating in gang rapes. In others, men looked back and thought differently on activities that might be considered the everyday realm of high school boys: “I would walk up to girls in my school and undo their bras. I thought it was funny but they thought it was horrible,” one wrote. “I felt like I had a right to touch them or undo their bras as a joke and honestly thought it was O.K.” Above all, the submissions were striking for their candor: They were, or at least seemed to be, submitted by men genuinely questioning why they had once conducted themselves in ways of which they now felt ashamed.

We had to leave out many compelling submissions, because The Times decided we would not publish these stories anonymously. And so, many of the same men who submitted searching accounts of who they once were declined to attach their names. “As much as I want to see this conversation move our country forward, I cannot lose my employment. I cannot lose my reputation,” one said. Most of the people willing to be on the record were either of retirement age or close to it.

Below are the stories of men who chose to share. Some of them anguished over whether to do so. Those who chose to share often said they felt they could contribute something important.

“It required some agony to say yes, but I have tried to live as honestly as I am able to do,” wrote Arthur J. Slavin. “We all need to help this discussion go forward.”

How old were you when you had this experience? 15 What’s your name? Patrick Herron What year did you graduate high school? 1970 How old were you when you had this experience? 15 What’s your name? Patrick Herron What year did you graduate high school? 1970 What’s your name? Patrick Herron What year did you graduate high school? 1970 How old were you when you had this experience? 15

Two of my friends and I once took a drive with a girl who lived on my street. We drove to the top of Mulholland Drive and told her she would have to walk home unless she would allow us to fondle her and expose her breasts. This only occurred once when I was in the car, but it was a sort of trick to play on girls that had been “passed down” by one of my friend’s older brothers. As a father of two millennial daughters and one millennial son, I would be horrified today if anything close to that ever occurred. This is the first time I have ever spoken about it.

When I look back at being a 15-year-old, in 1966-67, it just felt like an anything-goes kind of environment. I remember being unsupervised, hanging out with neighborhood boys who had cars, which allowed us the freedom to go anywhere after school while our parents worked. Marijuana was just becoming something teens were using. I have often thought about this event, but compared to the culture that prevailed in the 1970s, it seemed almost quaint. I know that sounds horrible. But what stayed with me about this was somehow both the innocence of youth and the giddy power I felt over this girl.

She never told her parents about this, but later one of the guys tried to climb in her window when her parents were out, and that became a disciplinary issue. No law enforcement ever became involved. We met again last year at a funeral for a mutual high school friend, and she was very cordial, albeit brief. I did not offer an apology because the circumstances of the interaction were public, with other classmates and family around us. As I drove away it occurred to me how embarrassed I felt meeting her again, and I wondered how she viewed me as an adult now.

What is your name? Gene Biringer How old were you when you had this experience? 16 What year did you graduate high school? 1972

When I was in high school, a group of 10 to 12 friends — boys and girls — occasionally indulged, for reasons I can no longer fathom, in friendly “rumbles,” a kind of group wrestling match. I suppose it was a way to express our need for a little chaos amid our structured suburban lives.

On one such occasion, I took advantage of the evening darkness and the jumble of bodies to grope the breast of a girl to whom I was attracted and in whose presence I felt intimidated, because of her beauty, intellect, and grace. It was a spontaneous, unpremeditated act — too public for me to have derived any sexual pleasure from it; too meaningful, because of who she was, for me to have targeted someone else. I think I did it because she seemed otherwise out of reach for me; perhaps such one-sided contact was all the intimacy I could ever hope to enjoy with her. And yet, with so many elbows, knees, hands, and feet flying about, I also recall making an instantaneous calculation: Maybe I can get away with this.

I don’t know whether she ever knew who groped her, but she immediately extricated herself from the pile, clearly upset, and promptly left without saying a word. I have never forgotten the look on her face: she seemed at once hurt, disappointed, indignant, and bewildered. Seeing her expression, I was seized with remorse for what I’d done, although I had not the courage to confess and apologize, then or later. But I was so ashamed that I’ve never done anything of the kind since then. I can imagine that in the early 1970s, my male friends (and perhaps men generally) would have regarded my action as relatively harmless, against the broad spectrum of sexual misconduct. For my own part, I knew that what I was doing was wrong, but I didn’t realize how wrong it was until I saw the young woman’s reaction, and I’ve regretted it ever since.

Two years later, I was on the receiving end of an unwelcome sexual advance when an older man with whom I worked invited me to his apartment for lunch. I agreed, innocently enough, but when I saw that he had prepared a meal only for me, I quickly realized that I was to be his lunch. As his advances became more and more aggressive, I froze — couldn’t move, couldn’t speak — until he unzipped my fly, took my penis in his hand, and pulled it into his mouth. The shock of that sensation in that situation stimulated a fight-or-flight response, and I bolted for the door. I quit my job that afternoon so that I would never again encounter that man. I went home, showered, and tearfully called a close female friend. But on that day I think I may have experienced at least some of the same emotions I saw on the face of the young woman I had groped; I felt violated, unclean, and disappointed that someone with whom I had previously been friendly turned out to value me only as an object of his desire.

How old were you when you had this experience? What year did you graduate high school? What’s your name? Lee Montgomery 17 Class of 1949 How old were you when you had this experience? 17 What year did you graduate high school? Class of 1949 What’s your name? Lee Montgomery What’s your name? Lee Montgomery How old were you when you had this experience? 17 What year did you graduate high school? Class of 1949

When I was 17, I behaved so badly toward a female classmate that the shame of it resulted in my dropping out of high school. Although I did not physically assault or even touch the young girl, I did something worse. I threatened her.

My threat was not a direct verbal attack but something more insidious. I appeared for the first time at the front door of her home one evening to pick her up for what was to be our first ever date. ‘P’ was a shy pretty girl who I had only seen occasionally in the school hallways, and when I asked her out to go to a movie it surprised me as much as it did her. She was gentle and quiet and not one of the so-called popular girls. I was a “Fonzi” type, and I had a car at a time when few of the guys did.

When we left her house and walked toward my car she saw that it was not just going to be the two of us; my buddy Raul was sitting in the driver’s seat. P got in but I could tell she was disappointed. She hardly knew me and she had never met Raul, so driving away into the darkness had to be intimidating for her.

My memory of all the details surrounding that night is faulty but I do remember being huddled up next to her in the back seat while we parked on a darkened street with no street lights. We never got around to the movie or anything else considered standard date protocol. My friend was a quiet guy who stayed in the front seat and said little and made no moves that might have made her feel threatened — but his presence alone was intimidating enough.

I don’t know exactly what I said, but I know I was making direct comments about the sexual possibilities to be conducted there and then, in the back of the car. I wasn’t drinking that night and I was totally in control of what I was saying, but I seem to remember that I kind of felt that I was on a roll.

The dialogue coming out of my mouth was just that — dialogue. I was doing my best Richard Widmark: speaking a quiet voice of evil designs. I didn’t have intentions that went further than that. But at some point, P’s fear had become palpable, and my friend had had enough. He admonished me, and asked me to stop. P was, by this time, very frightened — and why not! Sitting in a car with two guys in an unfamiliar neighborhood with nobody around, one of them blabbering away about having sex with her. She was probably wondering if she was going to be raped and how she was going to get home.

When we drove her home she opened the door and shot out, running up the walk to her front door. Raul looked at me and said, “Lee, you are such an asshole sometimes.”

I know, honestly, in my heart of hearts, that I never really intended to carry out any of this. But she didn’t know this, and so the damage was done. I wish I could have apologized to her but circumstances prevented that because I left Denver for 25 years. I dropped out of high school after what happened; the story of that night ended up more or less being a case of the last straw. My history in high school had not been successful and it wasn’t going to get better after the student body got wind of my behavior, so I cleared out my locker and never looked back.

I believe I have lived an exemplary life since that era, but during my teenage years, I did some nasty things. They got me into trouble with the law, which resulted in my joining the U.S. Navy just to avoid the slammer. My point is that I believe it is entirely possible for people to mature and be good citizens and to leave behind youthful bad behavior. But to do so requires admitting to wrongdoing. If I were to see her today, I would apologize sincerely with no excuses.

What is your name? Arthur J. Slavin How old were you when you had this experience? 19 What year did you graduate high school? 1946

I was in the U.S. Air Force, age 19. I was in a relationship with a woman two years older than I was; we were sexually involved, but not having intercourse — I was committed to being a virgin until marriage. Our sexual life was frustrating for both of us.

One night, I urgently tried to convince her to give me oral sex. She did not want this. I did not coerce her physically, but I urged her to do something she rejected, and I played on our emotional entanglement until she did. This was wrong, harmful to her, and I knew it. I have thought about that night ever since, repelled by my behavior toward a young woman I cared for.

I knew it was wrong then, ethically and morally, and I apologized the next day.

I am now in my 80s. I think standards may have changed, but I think many young men still act as I did.

How old were you when you had this experience? 19-20 What’s your name? Fanon Frazier What year did you graduate high school? 1997 How old were you when you had this experience? 19-20 What’s your name? Fanon Frazier What year did you graduate high school? 1997 What’s your name? Fanon Frazier How old were you when you had this experience? 19-20 What year did you graduate high school? 1997

Second year, community college, upstate New York. I was with three other guys; we all went to school together. One I knew very well — we often freestyle rapped together; the others were acquaintances.

One night, we visited a young woman’s apartment — I knew her in passing. We got there, she let us inside. Her girlfriend was there. I either grew aware, or remembered — I’m not sure which — that she had a reputation as being “down,” meaning down for a good time.

Yes, but not this time. Her demeanor was different, sadder than usual. Clearly she had decidedly changed, and said as much. Still, my party immediately started coaxing her verbally. I sat back, unsure of exactly where this situation was leading the six of us.

She was consistently standoffish, but they continued to lead her into the dark pantry. She did not want to go. I stood outside with the victim’s friend; we were silent, eyes down. I was frozen. Frozen together, I now realize. The girlfriend must have felt I was keeping watch; and though I was not, I was complicit because my party must have also thought the same.

It’s difficult to say why I failed to intervene, but not from social ostracism. I was and am definitely ashamed of what was happening around me, but this was not why I froze. I wasn’t sure what I was experiencing, but I knew exactly what was happening and that the atmosphere overwhelmed everything. My party was so nonchalant — whether because they’d done this before or just heard about it from others, I’m not sure.

I don’t actually know what happened to her in the pantry. I’ve always blocked it out until now, relieved she got out before unwanted sex. (That, I do feel sure about — when they left, no one’s clothes looked disheveled.) If that point were reached, heard or felt where we stood, I cannot say what the girlfriend or I might have done. I never talked about it afterwards. I felt it was something bigger than me that I couldn’t control, and that I didn’t have a place in reprimanding them.

Would I be frozen in that situation again? Definitely not — if it happened today, I would intervene.

What is your name? Tom Lynch How old were you when you had this experience? 21 What year did you graduate high school? 1977

When I was 21, a woman I worked with asked me to take her daughter to her senior prom. Her daughter had a reputation for being “easy.” I went to the prom with her daughter and remember trying to put my hand up her skirt in the back of the limo. I don’t even think we were kissing. She protested, and I persisted. She was very uncomfortable and somewhat distraught. I’m sure I was somewhat high or drunk. I felt guilty when I saw her mom at work that next week and felt her mom knew something had happened. I felt I had ruined the prom for this young woman. And I felt sad I had done that. It still haunts me a bit. This reader call-out prompted me to search for this woman on Facebook, with the intent of messaging her and apologizing. I was not able to find her in my initial search, but I will try to search more extensively.

I came out as gay two years later, so a lot has changed for me! I do wonder if part of my persisting with this young woman was to prove something to myself? I was not particularly attracted to her — she was not unattractive at all, but there was definitely no strong sexual chemistry. Then again, I was generally not sexually attracted to women, which is one of the realizations that prompted me to come out two years later. I think “conquering” her sexually was something I expected I needed to do. Especially on prom night, especially in the back of a limo — isn’t that a scene from many teen movies? (Except in those it’s usually mutual.) It did not come out of desire.

How old were you when you had this experience? 16-17 What’s your name? Max Maples What year did you graduate high school? 2005 How old were you when you had this experience? 16-17 What’s your name? Max Maples What year did you graduate high school? 2005 What’s your name? Max Maples How old were you when you had this experience? 16-17 What year did you graduate high school? 2005

When I was 16 or 17, I coerced my then-girlfriend to participate in sexual activities even though, looking back, it was clear she didn’t want that in the moment. We had recently started being sexually active with each other and in the moment, I think I found myself excited, although the circumstances were very unsexy.

We’d driven out to the tennis courts to play tennis, which I think we did for about 20 minutes. It was the only time we ever played tennis together, and somehow we wound up back in the car and I pressured her for oral sex. I don’t believe she voiced any explicit dissent, but I had to cajole to get what I wanted. I clearly remember saying something to the effect of “Please, could you do that one thing again.” The whole thing seems very unsexy in my memory.

Of course, no man or teenager should behave that way, but I don’t think that event stuck out in my mind until recently, when so many women went public with the trauma they had experienced. It hadn’t occurred to me that she may have felt violated or pressured or afraid because of my lack of self-control. (I reached out to my high school girlfriend to make sure she was okay with me telling this story, and interestingly, she didn’t even remember the incident in question. I’m glad it didn’t leave a negative mark on her, but I do know girls who have felt assaulted in that same situation.)

I have certainly changed, although I believe there is still a general belief that men are allowed to act on sexual impulse because they feel it more strongly than women do. Men are still seen as the de facto driver in sexual situations. Our culture expects men to exert confidence in sexual encounters, and our culture does not promote communication and active dialogue as part of that image of confidence. (And I certainly don’t feel “manly” reflecting back on that incident.) There are so many variables and scenarios when it comes to sexual encounters; I think we’re all trying to navigate the precise rights and wrongs.

What is your name? Terry Wheaton How old were you when you had this experience? 16 What year did you graduate high school? 1954

I dated a lot of girls in high school. On most of our dates we “made out,” with lots of kissing, a little petting and wandering hands but with no genitals exposed to the air. My memory is that I went absolutely no further than the girl wished to go. Stop was stop. No was no.

But my most vivid recollection is of kissing Diane in the back seat of a car on a double date and her just sitting there frozen. She obviously didn’t even want to kiss. I tried again and again. She didn’t say no or stop. She just sat there.