WATERTOWN [--] It was an evening in late March, and 42-year-old Rey Michaud, gripping a pair of binoculars, was waiting in his car with a private investigator across from a Morris pizza shop.
After about a half an hour into the stakeout, a Ford pulled in with a familiar license plate.
“He pulled up in a pickup truck with the same license plate he's always had, the same license plate that he had on the van that he molested me in,” Michaud said. “I saw him get out of the car with a young boy and I said, 'Oh my God, he's still doing this.'”
So began a monthlong quest that culminated Tuesday with the arrest of David G. Stanco, 57, of Thomaston, on charges he sexually abused a 15-year-old boy for more than a year.
In a series of interviews with the Republican-American, Michaud [JUMP]explained Stanco sexually abused him more than a hundred times between the ages of 12 and 16. He went to police with his story in March, but his allegations of abuse were 26 years old and outside the statute of limitations, said Lt. Mark Raimo, spokesman for Watertown police.
So Michaud decided he'd do his own police work.
He said he first met Stanco about 30 years ago when he moved from Waterbury to Watertown and happened into a music store near Straits Turnpike to buy a harmonica, according to his sworn affidavit with the Watertown Police Department.
“I didn't have enough money, but (Stanco) said we have broken ones in the back, and if you can play a song on it, I'll give you one,” Michaud said. He said he fixed the harmonica, played a song and left.
Soon afterward, Michaud said, he discovered Stanco lived in his neighborhood. He usually had a group of boys around, Michaud said, and sent a few over to invite him down to the home to hang out.

Father figure needed
Michaud was 12 at the time, and said he was going through a rough patch: His parents had divorced and he was rebelling against his stepfather.
He said it didn't take long for Stanco, who was in his mid- to late-20s, to become the father figure he thought he needed.
“He'd buy you that baseball glove nobody would buy you. He'd let you drive his van when you were 12 years old. He'd buy you alcohol. He'd buy you porn,” he said. “He'd take you camping. You know, every little boy's dream.”
But the friendship quickly went downhill.
One day, he said, Stanco invited him to go swimming with some of the other boys from the neighborhood. But because he had just moved to town, Michaud said, his swimming trunks were in a box somewhere. So Stanco offered to buy him new ones. Once he did, Michaud said, Stanco had him put them on in a back room of the music store. Michaud said that was where he was first touched him inappropriately.
“I felt embarrassed and I felt stupid,” he said. <t-1>”I wasn't sure if this is what tough guys do in the locker room, I didn't know.”
<t$>Michaud never told anyone. As time went on, he said, a pattern formed.
Either in the van, in a bedroom at his home or in a trailer behind the house, Michaud said, it happened the same way. First they would watch pornography, then Stanco would make a move, he said. Sometimes, Michaud said, Stanco would even pick him up from the bus stop on his way to school.
“He'd park down at Echo Lake Road. He always had a mover's blanket that he kept over the piano or organ when he moved it. He would lay that out in the back of the van,” Michaud said.
When he turned 16, Michaud said, he gained some independence and was able to get out of the situation.
He said he began to understand what had happened as he grew older. At the age of 19, he went to Stanco's home to beat him up but “chickened out” after Stanco answered the door.
Another time, he said, he was shopping for a television when he saw Stanco standing behind him in the reflection of a screen.
“I saw him staring at the back of my head, like he was waiting for me to turn around. I didn't want to turn around, I didn't know what to do ... I was shaken,” he said. Finally, Stanco walked away.

Memories never faded
Michaud said the memories of what happened never faded, but life went on.
He was married, and now has two children. He works as a graphic artist in advertising. Two years ago, he was diagnosed with leukemia. With medication, he has been able to contain the cancer, he said.
“When you think you're going to die, you lose a lot of fear,” he said. “I always thought about finding him, but had no idea where he was.”
Then, about a month ago, his past resurfaced. A friend told him Stanco was playing piano at a local pizza restaurant, and lived in town. After seeing Stanco and the boy at the pizza restaurant, Michaud said, he was on a mission.
“I started doing some searching on the (Internet). I found out he was playing organ and teaching choir and a member of youth groups in churches in Thomaston and Watertown,” he said.
“I went to those churches and talked to the priests and pastors and told them my story [--] how he lured me in, how he met me, how it began.”
He said he found a Facebook page for Stanco, and began writing down the names of all his friends, many of whom, he said, were boys. The page has since been taken down.
Using the list he was able to find a boy who said he had been molested by Stanco. Michaud said he convinced him to come forward to police by sharing his own story. Thomaston Police Lt. James Campbell confirmed Wednesday that Michaud initiated the complaint that led Stanco's arrest.
With Stanco held on $300,000 bond, Michaud has found some measure of peace, but said he won't rest until Stanco goes to trial. He said he believes there are others like him who were victimized by Stanco as children, but are too afraid to come forward.
He said he hopes making his own experience public will help other victims find the courage to go to police.
Police in Watertown and Thomaston have encouraged the Republican-American to publish Michaud's story with the same hope.
For Michaud, a taste of redemption after 26 years of looking over his shoulder has been cathartic.
“Ever since I've been doing this I feel re-energized. I feel something good coming into my life. I just feel like I'm doing something right,” he said. “This is the closest I have come to closure in a long time, and I know what it can do for other people to know that he's not doing it any more ... I know that it's haunted me forever.”