By Gene Lyons, NEA Columnist

Long ago and far away, a woman we hardly knew presented herself bruised and weeping on our doorstep one night. She told a vivid tale of woe. An old friend of our family she'd been dating had supposedly beaten her and thrown her down the stairs. Why she'd come to our house instead of police headquarters wasn't entirely clear.

The story went on for hours. After she'd gone, I asked my wife, "What percentage of that did you believe?"

Her eyes got big. She's a warm, compassionate soul whom people frequently seek out for advice.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"I mean that you've known X closely for 20 years. Do you really think he's just started beating up women at age 45?"

When I put it that way, she did not.

I know, I know. Domestic abuse is shockingly common. Along with sexual abuse, furtive alcoholism and other terrible sins. But the circumstances of my upbringing, as they say in 19th-century novels, didn't predispose me to believe the first story I hear.

Then I went into journalism, where skepticism is a (rapidly vanishing) virtue. I'd also written "Widow's Web," a book about a pathological liar whose exciting stories made her a statewide celebrity until homicide detectives sent her away.