Headlines everywhere have rewritten the legacy of Joe Paterno and Penn State.

The late icon is no longer college football’s winningest coach, following NCAA sanctions imposed Monday. And Penn State may be forever branded as a university that protected sports instead of children.

Crimes committed by Jerry Sandusky, a former Penn State defensive coordinator who was found guilty of sexually abusing young boys, led to an investigation by former FBI Director Louis Freeh, who determined university officials covered up the wrongdoing and enabled the abuse for more than a decade.

Nittany Lion victories during that period have now been vacated, Penn State has earned a $60 million fine, the football program is ineligible from playing in bowl games for four years and will lose 20 scholarships in each of those years as it also faces a five-year probation.

Additionally, the NCAA is allowing any current or incoming football players to transfer and immediately compete at another school.

People of varying ages have reacted to the news differently. JoePa devotees have cried at both his seven-foot-tall statue and the vacancy left behind after construction vehicles removed it Sunday, claiming the wrong people are being punished for Sandusky’s heinous acts. Others have said Monday’s punishment isn’t enough.

And yet some are purely idiotic. During the postmortem of yesterday’s news, sources on broadcast programs questioned how the sanctions would affect the psyche of the football fans.

I immediately turned to a coworker and shared a longer, explicative-ridden version of “Who cares?”

That anyone would ask that question is exactly how sex crimes against children were allowed to continue on Penn State property for so long.  Nobody should have ever worried about the psyche of football fans. They should’ve worried about the psyche of the victims.

Football fans will find a way to live without watching their team compete in the Beef ‘O’ Brady’s bowl.

Children of abuse, however, are prone to suicide.

And this scandal hasn’t just affected the children who were abused in State College. The constant news has likely brought to the forefront painful memories for anyone who has suffered at an unwanted hand.

It has also affected parents, causing them to take pause and reevaluate all the choices they previously made with confidence, doubting community leaders they’ve called friends.

During a recent book signing for “Game Over: Jerry Sandusky, Penn State, and the Culture of Silence” by Bill Moushey and Bob Dvorchak, a parent discussed how she had sent her son to many athletic camps while he was in grade school. It never occurred to her that he would be in danger.

Sure, she knew the world was an unpredictable place, but she trusted the coaches. She trusted her son would be safe.

When she thinks of other parents and guardians who entrusted their child’s care to Sandusky, she feels sadness. And when she thinks of the Penn State leadership that essentially looked the other way, she feels anger.

If her child had been the victim, she would want every person who enabled the crimes to face justice.

Eliminating the football victories gained while victims suffered in silence won’t undo the abuse of innocent children.

But by taking away its wins, maybe Penn State will learn from its losses.

Something keeps gnawing at me.

A couple weeks ago, my family and I attended the Dallastown circus, and I witnessed a terrible display of humanity.

As per usual, the kids and I were a few minutes late. It seemed as though we were the only people in the parking lot until I heard a man shouting. And I soon realized he was actually screaming at a sobbing child—a little boy no more than 2 years old.

The man shouted at the little boy, who was clinging to his mother. Another boy, maybe a few years older, was walking beside them toward a jeep.

“That’s it. I’ve had it. You’re a (explicative) little brat. Wait ‘til we get home,” the man said, screaming a host of other horrible things afterward.

The woman, who I’m assuming is the children’s mother, strapped the kids in the back seat while wearing a blank face.

My kids squeezed my hands a little harder, and my 5-year-old son Ty said, “That guy is very angry like a bad guy.”

And Ty was right, as children always seem to see things so plainly. We adults, on the other hand, let a lot of gray slip in between what we instinctively know is black and white.

I will admit to you that I did nothing. I didn’t confront the man, who expressed violence from his pores. With my three children in tow, ages 8, 5 and 3, I feared what more they would be subjected to if I didn’t just keep walking.

But there was no way to keep walking without also walking away from that child. Other than initiating a confrontation in that parking lot, I had no way of reporting what I saw. I do not know those people. The man grossly exceeded the speed limit as he drove away from the circus, leaving me no opportunity to catch the license plate number.

However, I do remember he was wearing cut-off khakis with a chain hanging out of his side pocket, a white, ribbed tank top, black shoes, and both of his arms were covered in colorful tattoos. And he had light hair styled in a buzz cut.

Both of the boys had blond hair, and the woman had long dark hair pulled into a ponytail.

Many times since I first saw them, I have wondered what happened when they got home. I’ve hoped the man cooled off while the woman took the kids outside to play.

And I’ve prayed that child didn’t suffer physical abuse while I was buying Spider-Man balloons for my kids at the circus.

Should I have done more?

At the very least, I should learn more.

My colleague wrote a story last week “Learning to spot abuse” that announces upcoming workshops designed to help people spot and safely intervene with child abuse.

Funded by the Pennsylvania Department of Health, the workshops will be held from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Friday, June 22, and Thursday, July 12, at New Grounds Roasting Co., at 284 W. Market St. in York.

Registration is required and can be obtained by calling Pennsylvania Family Support Alliance at 238-0937 or emailing info@pa-fsa.org.

These efforts are always important, but perhaps they’re more prominent as the Jerry Sandusky case unfolds. The former Penn State assistant football coach is charged with 51 criminal counts for the alleged abuse of 10 boys during a 15-year span.

Fingers have been pointed at several people in Happy Valley, wondering why someone didn’t stop the alleged crimes sooner.

While that high-profile case is seemingly different from what I witnessed at the circus, I still feel like I failed a child.

I may not be a cowardly lion, but I’m certainly a woman who lost her voice.