New legislation aims to eliminate Alabama’s status as a refuge for predators by extending civil statutes and creating a revival window.
For far too long, Alabama has been a state where child sexual abusers—and the institutions that protected them—face almost no civil accountability. That must end. This legislative session, I am sponsoring legislation to finally bring Alabama’s laws in line with modern science and with the basic justice survivors deserve. We can no longer tolerate a system that allows predators to remain hidden while survivors remain silenced.
National research shows that a significant percentage of survivors of child sexual abuse never disclose their abuse to anyone. Some studies suggest roughly one-third never speak, while Department of Justice data indicates the number may be closer to 14 percent. Medical evidence is present in fewer than 5 percent of reported child sexual abuse cases, forcing prosecutors to rely almost entirely on a child’s testimony. As a result, only about one in five reported cases moves forward to prosecution—and barely half of those result in a conviction or guilty plea.
The outcome is staggering: just 1 percent of child sexual abuse crimes ever result in a criminal conviction or guilty plea. That means 99 percent of perpetrators never face the criminal consequences they deserve.
Today in Alabama, a survivor of child sexual abuse may file a civil lawsuit only until their 25th birthday. This is one of the narrowest civil statutes of limitations in the nation—and it is fundamentally incompatible with what we now know about the trauma of child sexual abuse.
The average age at which a survivor is finally able to disclose their abuse is 52. Many do not speak out until their fifties, sixties, or seventies—not because they don’t want justice, but because trauma often prevents disclosure until much later in life. Some lacked the words as children. Some were threatened. Some were ignored when they tried to tell someone. Others spent decades believing the abuse was their fault.
By the time a survivor can finally speak, Alabama’s civil law has already told them: “You’re too late.”
That is morally indefensible.
This failure in our civil justice system has also created a deeply disturbing consequence: Alabama has become a legal safe haven for abusers and for institutions seeking to avoid civil accountability. National evidence documents repeated patterns of abusive clergy, coaches, and employees being transferred across state lines into jurisdictions with weak civil laws—and Alabama’s laws are among the weakest. Whether intentional or simply convenient, the effect is the same: predators find refuge here, and Alabama families remain vulnerable.
My legislation will change that.
First, the bill extends the civil statute of limitations from age 25 to age 39, giving survivors a more realistic and compassionate window to seek justice. Second, it creates a two-year revival window allowing survivors of any age to bring forward civil claims that were previously barred. These survivors were denied justice before they even understood what happened to them; this window gives them one fair chance to be heard.
This reform also allows the public to finally learn the truth. Civil cases identify perpetrators and expose institutions that minimized, concealed or enabled abuse. In states that have enacted revival windows, thousands of previously unknown predators have been uncovered. Alabama deserves that transparency. Alabama families deserve that safety.
A companion constitutional amendment is also necessary because our state Constitution currently prohibits the revival of expired civil claims—a restriction written long before modern trauma science existed. I am asking my colleagues on both sides of the aisle to support this amendment and give Alabama the ability to correct a longstanding injustice.
This is not about politics. It is not about lawsuits. It is about children. It is about ensuring that those who harmed them—and those who enabled that harm—are no longer shielded by outdated laws written generations ago.
Alabama can remain a place where abusers are protected, and survivors are turned away. Or we can become a state where survivors are believed, heard, and empowered to seek justice.
I am choosing survivors.
And I am asking my fellow legislators—and the people of Alabama—to do the same.
This is an opinion column and does not necessarily represent or reflect the opinions of The Monthly Reporter, its editors, or its reporters. The opinions are those of its author. For information about submitting guest opinions, visit our contact page.