The Secret History of the Rape Kit

1. The Rape Kit's Hidden Feminist Origin

Here was an object invented specifically to help a survivor prove that her attack had happened and to help identify the perpetrator.

A revolutionary tool. The rape kit, a simple box of collection materials, was a radical invention designed to empower survivors and hold perpetrators accountable. Its existence felt like a miracle in a world where sexual assault was often dismissed or blamed on the victim. It promised a scientific way to validate a survivor's story.

Marty Goddard's vision. Marty Goddard, a philanthropic executive in 1970s Chicago, was horrified by the plight of runaway teenagers fleeing abuse. She realized the system failed to investigate sexual assault, treating it as a natural disaster rather than a crime. Driven by fury and a desire for truth, she envisioned a standardized system for collecting forensic evidence.

More than a box. Marty understood that the kit itself was just one part of a larger system. Her vision included training for nurses and police, standardized protocols, and cooperation between hospitals and law enforcement. This comprehensive approach was key to making evidence collection effective and admissible in court.

2. Challenging a System Built on Victim Blaming

In their examinations, police routinely asked women what they’d been wearing, whether they’d acted in a seductive manner to provoke an attack, and whether they had enjoyed the sex.

Historical context. For centuries, the legal system, influenced by figures like Sir Matthew Hale, treated rape accusations with suspicion, viewing them as "easily to be made and hard to be proved." Forensic exams were often used to judge the victim's character or virginity rather than to find evidence against the perpetrator.

Systemic failures. In 1970s Chicago, despite high rates of sexual assault, convictions were rare. Police often mishandled or discarded evidence, and hospital staff lacked training in forensic collection. Victims faced humiliation, being forced to strip naked without replacement clothes and questioned invasively about their behavior.

Marty's outrage. Marty was appalled by the police's attitude, documented in training manuals that suggested many rape complaints were illegitimate and that victims should appear "dishonored." She saw how the system was designed to make cases collapse, protecting perpetrators and shaming survivors.

3. The Fight for Credit and Recognition

One source told me that Vitullo had pressured Marty into giving him full credit for the invention and that she felt she had no choice but to name it the Vitullo kit.

A contested legacy. While Marty Goddard conceived and built the comprehensive rape kit system, a Chicago police sergeant, Louis Vitullo, received much of the public credit. Marty reportedly faced pressure to brand the kit with his name, the "Vitullo Evidence Collection Kit," to gain buy-in from law enforcement.

Strategic erasure. Marty may have strategically allowed Vitullo to take credit, believing his name lent authority and scientific credibility in a male-dominated field. This aligns with historical patterns where women's inventions were often claimed or overshadowed by men, partly due to legal and societal barriers preventing women from protecting their intellectual property.

The cost of invisibility. For years, Vitullo was celebrated as the kit's inventor in the media, while Marty was often relegated to a footnote, described as his assistant or someone who merely helped implement his idea. This theft of credit contributed to her later obscurity, despite her foundational role.

4. Police Corruption and the Red Squad's Shadow

Without a doubt, the Red Squad spied on her.

A dangerous environment. Marty's work took place within a deeply corrupt and violent Chicago Police Department, notorious for brutality, racism, and a clandestine spying unit called the Red Squad. This unit targeted activists and critics, using surveillance, blackmail, and intimidation.

Targeted by the state. Marty herself was stalked and photographed by a suspected Red Squad operative. She later saw her file, filled with fabricated information, before it was reportedly destroyed in a warehouse fire. This demonstrated the personal risk she faced by challenging the police's handling of sexual assault cases.

Working within the system. Despite the dangers, Marty sought allies within the department, like Officer Rudy Nimocks, who helped her navigate the internal politics. Her ability to work with some officers while being targeted by others highlights the complex and perilous landscape she navigated to implement her reforms.

5. Funding Challenges and Unlikely Allies

She applied for a donation of $10,000 from the Playboy Foundation—the equivalent of more than $50,000 today. She got it.

Financial hurdles. Implementing a citywide rape kit system required significant funding for materials, training, and outreach. Marty's nonprofit, the Citizens Committee for Victims Assistance (CCVA), had to raise this money, as the police department would not underwrite the project.

Seeking unconventional support. Traditional philanthropists were often reluctant to fund projects related to sexual assault due to societal taboos. Marty turned to the Playboy Foundation, founded by Hugh Hefner, which supported progressive causes like abortion rights and women's autonomy.

Playboy's role. The Playboy Foundation provided crucial seed money and resources. They even enlisted Playboy's graphic designers for the kit packaging and organized fundraising events at the Playboy Mansion. This unlikely alliance highlights Marty's pragmatism and willingness to work with controversial figures to achieve her goals.

6. Personal Trauma Fuels Advocacy

Cynthia knew all this because Marty had called right after it happened. Marty had recounted the details of her abduction, so traumatized that she sounded numb.

A hidden burden. Years into her advocacy work, Marty was brutally raped at knifepoint while on vacation in Hawaii. This horrific experience, which left her physically injured and infected with herpes, added a profound personal dimension to her professional mission.

The weight of experience. While Marty didn't widely publicize her assault, it deeply affected her. Her friends and family later recounted her distress and the lasting physical and emotional toll. This personal trauma likely fueled her relentless drive to improve the system for other survivors.

Connecting with victims. Marty's own experience may have given her unique insight into the trauma faced by survivors, including the children she helped through the "Show and Tell Me" dolls. Her empathy, combined with her strategic mind, made her a powerful advocate, even as she struggled privately.

7. The Inventor's Disappearance and Decline

But by the year 1985, she had faded into invisibility. Friends lost track of her and weren’t even sure where she was living. What had happened?

Burnout and isolation. Marty's intense dedication to her work, reading graphic case files and traveling constantly to implement the kit system nationally, led to severe burnout. She became reclusive, neglecting her personal life and losing touch with friends.

Financial and personal struggles. Despite her professional achievements, Marty faced ongoing financial difficulties, relying on help from a wealthy friend. Her personal life deteriorated, marked by heavy drinking and strained relationships, including estrangement from her sister.

Mental health challenges. In her later years, Marty struggled with paranoia and was diagnosed with dementia and manic depression. These challenges, possibly exacerbated by trauma and alcoholism, contributed to her complete withdrawal from public life and her eventual death in obscurity in Arizona.

8. The DNA Revolution and Evidence Backlogs

The kits worked like time capsules to belatedly deliver justice to both survivors and prisoners.

A scientific breakthrough. The development of DNA fingerprinting in the 1980s transformed forensic science. Suddenly, biological samples in rape kits could definitively link a perpetrator to a crime or exonerate an innocent person, making the kits exponentially more valuable.

The promise of CODIS. The FBI's national CODIS database, launched in 1998, allowed DNA profiles from untested kits and convicted offenders to be cross-referenced across jurisdictions. This had the potential to solve serial cases and prevent future assaults.

Systemic failure persists. Despite the technological advancements, police departments and crime labs across the country failed to process thousands of rape kits, creating massive backlogs. This neglect meant justice was delayed or denied for countless survivors, and dangerous serial offenders remained free.

9. Systemic Bias Against Black Survivors

The attitude of the state, she said, was, “What the heck, it’s black on black, no big deal.”

Unequal access to justice. Marty recognized that the rape kit system, even when implemented, failed to serve Black women in Chicago's poorest neighborhoods. They faced additional barriers, including racist attitudes from law enforcement and medical professionals, and a lack of services in their communities.

Historical context of distrust. For Black communities, the criminal justice system has historically been a source of violence and false accusations, particularly regarding rape. This history created deep distrust, making Black survivors less likely to report assaults and risk unleashing police violence in their neighborhoods.

The need for tailored support. Activists like Kalimah Johnson in Detroit recognized that a one-size-fits-all approach wouldn't work. They created survivor-centered spaces like the SASHA Center, offering holistic healing and support outside the traditional, often intimidating, law enforcement system.

10. New Visions for Survivor-Centered Care

Her revelation, she told me, was this: “What if this could be a service where [the nurses] came to you?”

Rethinking the system. Inspired by the ongoing failures and backlogs, a new generation of designers and advocates are reimagining the sexual assault evidence system. They argue that the system should be centered around the survivor's needs and comfort, not the convenience of institutions.

Innovation in design. Antya Waegemann designed the "Margo" kit, envisioning a system where survivors could collect evidence at home with telemedicine guidance from a forensic nurse. Former FBI agent Jane Mason developed the PRESERVEkit, allowing survivors to collect and bank evidence privately until they are ready to report.

Challenging the status quo. These new approaches face resistance from those who believe survivors cannot be trusted to collect evidence or that care must happen in a hospital setting. However, the COVID-19 pandemic forced a reevaluation, demonstrating the viability of remote guidance and alternative collection sites.

11. Unearthing Family Trauma and Its Impact

Their father belted them; he threatened and bullied; and Carol knew that no one would come to their rescue.

A difficult childhood. Marty and her sister Carol grew up in a seemingly perfect, affluent family in the Midwest, but behind closed doors, their father was a tyrant who used physical and emotional abuse. Their mother failed to protect them, prioritizing appearances over her daughters' well-being.

Marty's rebellion. Unlike her sister, who learned to be a people-pleaser, Marty clashed openly with her father, particularly over his racist views. Her defiance led to physical punishment and a brief attempt to run away, highlighting her early resistance to authority and injustice.

Lasting consequences. The childhood trauma shaped Marty, contributing to her later struggles with relationships, isolation, and possibly her mental health challenges. Her sister Carol's account reveals the deep, hidden pain beneath the surface of their family life and Marty's lifelong fight against abuse.

12. The Enduring Power of the Kit and Its Legacy

Seeing Marty’s kit given this kind of treatment, I realized that it belonged in a museum alongside a parade of great American inventions.

A symbol of justice. Despite the challenges and the theft of her credit, Marty Goddard's core idea—a standardized, scientifically collected evidence kit—became a cornerstone of modern sexual assault investigations. It transformed the potential for proving assaults and holding perpetrators accountable.

Ongoing impact. The kit, now housed in the Smithsonian, serves as a tangible reminder of Marty's work and the ongoing fight for justice. Its acquisition sparked internal debate, highlighting that even decades later, discussing sexual assault and its tools remains politically charged.

Marty's vision realized (partially). While the system still faces issues like backlogs and unequal access, Marty's fundamental belief in the power of evidence and the importance of treating survivors with dignity has gained ground. New technologies and survivor-led initiatives continue to build on her legacy, pushing for a more just and accessible system.

Last updated: May 20, 2025