tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38511854335009215452024-02-08T02:18:30.292-08:00Reasonable EffortsFederal Law known as the Adoption Assistance and Child Welfare Act of 1980 required that government agencies exert reasonable efforts to prevent children from being placed in foster care. This blog is born of the glaring absence of any such reasonable efforts in April, 1999, when the Orange County (California) Social Services Agency removed my and my wife's two sons from their neighhborhood school one afternoon.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-17507642982421610742013-10-26T00:05:00.001-07:002013-10-26T00:09:12.627-07:00Today I Am A Horse.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">"Today I am a horse. Dear God,
did you have to make my poor old horse lose his shoe just before the Sabbath?
That wasn't nice. It's enough you pick on me, Tevye, bless me with five
daughters, a life of poverty. What have you got against my horse? Sometimes I
think that when things are too quiet up there, You say to Yourself, `Let's see,
what kind of mischief can I play on my friend Tevye?'" (Fiddler on the
Roof," book by Joseph Stein and music by Jerry Bock, lyrics by Sheldon
Harnick. Pocket Books, 1965, p. 23). <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 1.0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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My wife of some twenty-seven plus years, bless her heart,
has secondary progressive multiple sclerosis. She is no longer able to walk, nor work, has
difficulty at times speaking with fluidity and recalling words that she wants
to say. She is not in complete control
of her bladder, and is frequently struck by the kind of fatigue that sneaks up
on you, requiring you to find a nearby spot to lie down and take a nap. These days, she spends a lot of time in her
bed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her disease has progressed over the years, a progression that
was accelerated by a traumatic event and very stressful period in our lives: when
our two young boys were taken away for almost ten months on allegations of
child abuse, allegations that were ultimately dismissed by a court after an
additional nine months had passed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have documented that story in past Blogposts here. That’s not my topic today. Today, I am a horse. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m feeling a little sorry for myself, and what’s worse, I’m
also feeling a little guilty for feeling that way. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not the one with MS, and unlike Tevye, it’s not that my
horse that has lost his shoe. My
distress is because this week, my wife’s live-in caregiver lost her ability to care
for my wife, let alone take care of herself.
Something happened, and what happened caused me to have to take care of both
of them, with a little help from my eldest son.
To add one more complexity, I not operating at 100% myself: I’m a candidate for hip replacement surgery
and am hobbling about with the pain that goes along with that condition.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Our caregiver only moved in two months ago, and since my job
of the past five months<a href="file:///C:/Users/Steven/Documents/BLOG.Today%20I%20am%20a%20horse.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
is more than thirty miles from home, I really needed someone to be home with my
wife while I was at work. Because our eldest
son lives and sometimes works nearby, he had been able to come by to rescue his
mom on a couple of occasions -- when she’d ended up on the bedroom floor after unsuccessful
attempts to transfer back to bed from her bedside commode. On a few of other occasions, she’d had to
grab a blanket and pillows from the bed and make herself as comfortable as
possible on the rug until I could get home to assist her.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Monday, our caregiver began to experience an attack of <i>Hemiplegic Migraine</i>, a condition that
was first diagnosed by a neurologist some fourteen years ago. She suspected that the attack was brought on
by the stress of a bad experience at a county medical clinic that morning, where
she was supposed to have seen a doctor about getting some prescriptions
renewed, but at which things had gone awry.
As the day progressed her condition worsened, so much so that late in
the afternoon my wife called to ask me to come home earlier than usual to take
our caregiver to the Emergency Room. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I got home and walked into our bedroom, I found my wife
and our caregiver in our room. Our
caregiver was lying on her side on my half of the bed, her right hand covering her
eyes, in obvious discomfort. Her left
arm was paralyzed and it lay limp at her side.
I helped her get up, and she barely made it to the car, as her legs were
in tremor. Her eyesight was very poor;
she was hypersensitive to sound; she was dizzy and nauseous, and it looked to
me like she was having a stroke. But she
insisted that that was not the case. She
said that the last time she had experienced an episode of <i>Hemiplegic Migraine</i> was a few years ago, possibly triggered by a
head injury sustained in a car accident.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I pulled up to the entrance of the Emergency Room at about
8:30 pm, went inside and requested a wheelchair. An attendant brought one out and we managed to
get our caregiver out of the car and into the chair. The attendant asked what was happening, and she
told the attendant the name of her condition: <i>Hemiplegic Migraine.</i> She was
wheeled inside, and by the time I moved my car and went back in, she had already
been taken to Triage. Like I said, it
looked like a stroke, so they didn’t waste any time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a few minutes, they let me in and I was directed to
Bed #1. I stood out of the way of
everyone and watched as a nurse administered a neurological screening exam. The Emergency Physician had already seen her
and ordered a CT scan. They were
monitoring her vitals, she had an IV through which she had already received pain
medication and they were about to give her some more. Unable to move her left arm, both of her legs
were in tremor, and the overhead light and loud voices were very uncomfortable
for her. She thought that she might have
to vomit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I asked if they could turn off the overhead light and they
did, utilizing indirect lighting. An
x-ray tech came in to take a chest x-ray while she was in bed, during which I
left the room. When I went back in, she
told me that she had felt dehydrated earlier in the day, and asked the nurse if
she could have some ice chips. Because of
her nausea, though, they gave her swabs to put in her mouth instead. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the second dose of pain medication, she began to itch,
so they gave her some Benadryl for that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When she was about to go for the CT scan, she commented to
me that it the results of the scan would probably be negative, as they had been
during previous episodes. I asked the
nurse how long it might take for Radiology to provide the results of the CT
scan: probably about thirty minutes. I continued
to wait, asking our caregiver a few questions and getting a few answers,
although it was not easy for her to talk or to compose her thoughts. She did tell me this: most of the people who treated her for these
episodes in the past as well as on this occasion were not familiar with <i>Hemiplegic Migraine</i>; she asked them if
they would look it up, as it was rare and the diagnosis fourteen years earlier
had taken quite some time. She told me
that she had experienced less than a handful of episodes of the condition since
that first diagnosis. The most recent episode,
the one after the car accident, had resulted in her being hospitalized for
about a week. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I called home to speak with my wife, who was hungry for dinner,
so I decided to make a quick trip home. I heated up some leftovers for each of us,
then returned to the ER. The CT results had
just come in and our caregiver/patient was right: they were negative. The decision was made to admit her, and a room
was readied. At about 11:30pm, I
accompanied her as they wheeled her up to her room.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Waiting in the hallway while the attendants got her settled,
I went back into her room to ask if there was anything I could bring for her from
home, but she was pretty out of it and asked if I could call in the
morning. I wished her well and left for
the night. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just before I went to sleep, I did a GOOGLE search on <i>Hemiplegic Migraine</i>, got several hits,
and read one article. The term was well
documented. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After getting ready for work the next morning, I gave my
wife breakfast, and packed her lunch and snack in our Ben & Jerry’s cooler,
which I left on our bed for her. I fed
the dogs and called the hospital to see what I could bring for our
caregiver. She only wanted a few items,
so I collected them, packed my own lunch and left the house.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It took me about twenty minutes to get to the hospital. While walking from the parking lot toward the
main entrance, I noticed a tall man approaching the entrance from the opposite side
of the driveway, and as he walked, he was talking on his cell phone and putting
on his white coat. It turned out that he
was the neurologist on his way to visit our caregiver/patient, so I introduced
myself and we rode the elevator together.
I told him what she’d told me about her history, as well as the name of
the neurologist who had diagnosed her migraine variant fourteen years before.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I watched as he administered a neurology screening exam,
during which our caregiver/patient mentioned that she had tried to get in to
see a local neurologist, one who had seen her in the past, and she told him the
other neurologist’s name. Unfortunately,
that neurologist was no longer accepting new patients. But she was in luck, he replied, because her
former neurologist was now on staff with that same hospital. I left the room for a few minutes so they
could speak privately. When he left, I
went back in and she told me that she thought that she was going to be
discharged. That frightened her, because
on a past occasion, the tremors she was experiencing had progressed into
convulsions and she didn’t want that to happen again. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few minutes later, another doctor, a hospitalist,
came in and spoke with her. I mentioned
to the hospitalist that it would be most helpful if she could speak with the caregiver/patient’s
former neurologist who was now on staff, asking about our caregiver’s
history. She said that she would do so, and
I left for work.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spoke with my wife during the day, neither of us knowing
what we should do. On my way home from
work, I was at a market picking up some fruit and vegetables when my phone
rang. It was our caregiver. The hospital was discharging her and she asked
if I could come pick her up. I asked her
about her condition, and she said that it was much the same. I told her that I would be there in an hour. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I arrived a few minutes early and went up to her room. She told me that the hospitalist had been
very dismissive of her condition. She’d
told our caregiver that she thought her symptoms were psychosomatic, and that
there was nothing further that could be done for her neurologically in the
hospital. An attendant wheeled her
outside in a wheelchair and I took her home.
The hospital did issue her a prescription for some pain medication to fill
at an outside pharmacy. She was just
going to have to ride out the rest of the episode on her own at home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In that condition, she was of no use as a caregiver to my
wife or of any assistance to me as backup.
We were going to have to ride it out, too. She could barely able to get up and walk to
the bathroom, but at least she could do that much. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Wednesday night, I fixed dinner for my wife and asked our
caregiver if she would like some of what I had prepared. She accepted it and I took that as a good
sign.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The following morning, I had her prescription filled for her. By Thursday evening, she had some limited use
of her left arm and she was slowly improving.
I expected that it would take some time for her to recover from this
episode. We have not been able to talk much
yet, as she was not really capable of doing so.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hope that by Saturday afternoon, we will be able to have a
conversation, and I have invited our eldest son to join us. My wife is convinced that our caregiver will
not be able to provide her with the care she needs. She may well be right. I need help.
I cannot possibly shoulder the load I’ve had to carry this week for very
long. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As Tevye would likely say, “It isn’t easy.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div>
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<br />
<div id="ftn1">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/Steven/Documents/BLOG.Today%20I%20am%20a%20horse.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> In
November, 2011, I lost my job of the previous six and one-half years in a
massive lay-off affecting 175 people.
Since that time, I have found only temporary employment and have had two
extended periods of unemployment. Thus,
I have been my wife’s full-time caregiver for the lion’s share of the past two
years. In May of this year, I obtained
my most recent temporary position, one that holds promise of becoming a
full-time salaried job. Thus, I was very
glad when two months ago, we found a day-time caregiver for my wife. When this week’s episode took place, however,
I found it very demoralizing. Enough with the celestial mischief, already. <o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
</div>
Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-62820487744607443592010-11-23T15:04:00.000-08:002010-11-23T15:08:48.627-08:00Criticism of LA Times' Series on Foster Care; the Agency Leadership and the Federal Funding SchemeThe Los Angeles Times has recently published a series of articles by reporter Garrett Therolf on child protecive services highlighting some of the cases with horrible outcomes that resulted from allowing children "known to the system" to remain in their homes vs. placing them in foster care. <br />
<br />
The nature of the reporting came under fire from several critics, including Daniel Hempel of <em>Fostering Media Connections</em>, Celeste Fremon of the Blog <em>WitnessLA, </em>and Richard Wexler of the <em>National Coalition of Child Protection Reform</em>. Times' Assistant Managing Editor, David Lauter's response to that criticism appeared on the Times' Readers' Representative web page, and Lauter's response generated additional criticism as well as several reader comments.<br />
<br />
One reader's comment began with "I don't know what this fuss is about...", which I took personally. Thinking about these cases in the abstract is so far removed from the visceral, real-life experince of being a cast member in the actual drama. <br />
<br />
As a result, I posted the following comment on the Blog, which you can find at <a href="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/readers/2010/11/times-responds-to-criticism-of-foster-care-coverage.html">http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/readers/2010/11/times-responds-to-criticism-of-foster-care-coverage.html</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="comment comment-odd" id="comment-6a00d8341c630a53ef013489612dbe970c"><div class="comment-content" id="comment-6a00d8341c630a53ef013489612dbe970c-content"><span id="comment-6a00d8341c630a53ef013489612dbe970c-content"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Thank you, William, for wondering what all the fuss is about.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Here's what it's about for me: in April of 1999, my wife and I had our two sons taken from their elementary school one afternoon. They were first placed into a group home and then into foster care. It never should have happened.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I very much appreciate the incisiveness of the criticism -- much deserved -- leveled by Mssrs. Heimpel and Wexler against the Times' reporting in the recent series of articles by Mr. Therolf. Celeste Fremon is correct when she identifies the straw man arguments constructed by David Lauter in his response. I hope that Mr. Lauter will get past them, make his way into a more forthright self-examination of the Times' reportage and continue this very important conversation.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><strong>The underlying fuss, beyond the reportage, is about a curious system of financial incentive/disincentive, imposed upon counties by federal policy that reimburses counties ONLY for the costs of out-of-home placement of children, even though other alternatives may be more effective, less costly and most importantly, less damaging and traumatic for children and families. </strong></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Presently Los Angeles County, along with Alameda County and the State of Florida, have been granted waivers from compliance with that federal policy, and are able to use federal reimbursement dollars in the best interests of child welfare. That waiver is making a very positive difference in Florida outcomes, and under the right child welfare agency leadership, it can do the same in Los Angeles County.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Though we were lucky in the foster care department (incredibly supportive family friends volunteered and were approved to act as our sons' foster parents, although we were not allowed contact with them absent a monitor for many months), our children, my wife, who has multiple sclerosis and whose condition worsened considerably under the stress of the separation, and I endured much emotional trauma. Our family nightmare, which took place in Orange and not LA County, ended when we were reunited ten and one-half months after that horrible day in April, 2009.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Our lives were forever changed -- and not in a good way -- because of an institutional bias toward removing children from their homes that prevails in most places in this country under the current child welfare funding scheme. Far too many families experience similar treatment. THAT's what the fuss is all about.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Yes, child abuse and neglect are real. And yes, child protective services are a necessary thing. However, they need not be the necessary evil which they far too often are. If we are going to provide those services, let's fund them in ways that eliminate institutional bias, give children what is best for their welfare, help deserving families that need help, and improve outcomes, both social and fiscal. Let's get child protection right. </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">* * * * * *</span> </div></div>This is just one small step forward toward reform, a step toward the elimination of the institutional bias in favor of removing children from their homes resulting from the Federal funding scheme. Each case needs to be viewed individually, and all options in the best interest of the child's welfare -- and the family -- need to be considered without any financial incentive or disincentive toward any such option. That would be one more way of getting child protection right.<br />
Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-20300574164710997492010-11-23T14:48:00.000-08:002010-11-23T14:48:38.206-08:00Reasonable Efforts: Preview "Criticism of LA Times' Series on Foster Care; the Agency Leadership and the Federal Funding Scheme"<a href="http://reasonableefforts.blogspot.com/b/post-preview?token=F7GifCwBAAA.Pn-C0tWotIoUl6cB99-9aQ.7fzKYxHLNoDP2xRbOqAaxw&postId=6282048774460744359&type=POST">Reasonable Efforts: Preview "Criticism of LA Times' Series on Foster Care; the Agency Leadership and the Federal Funding Scheme"</a>Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-10450210861409680152010-07-27T14:58:00.000-07:002010-07-27T14:58:08.497-07:00Response to my letter to Bill ClintonI have today received a letter of reply to the letter I sent to Bill Clinton and posted here on May 28, 2010. I have edited that post by appending the text of the former President's letter at its end.<br />
<br />
Since the entire point of my letter was completely missed, I think perhaps I'll write again. I must admit, however, that I'm pretty disappointed in the lack of a quality response. The reply letter offers no evidence that my letter was read by anyone with even a thimblefull of critical thinking skills.<br />
<br />
It's sad.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-56242341296378022010-07-17T12:32:00.000-07:002010-07-17T12:54:04.883-07:00It's time to plan for action. Collective action.A little more than a year ago, I set up a Facebook account and started a cause on Facebook called "Getting Child Protection Right." Over the intervening months, almost four hundred Facebook users from the US and abroad have joined that cause. Some of those have made contributions to the cause's dedicated non-profit organization -- the National Coalition for Child Protection Reform www.nccpr.org , an organization that has done more than any other I have found to influence policy makers in a position to effect positive change to a system that, while well-meaning, often does far more to harm children and families than to help them. That certainly was my family's experience.<br />
<br />
Today I sent out an email bulletin to all of the members of the cause, asking them what individual actions they have taken or thought about taking in order to change things for the better. I realize, of course, that some of those who have joined the cause are just now newly involved in "the system" and may only be thinking about how to get their children back home and how to end their involvement in it.<br />
<br />
Nonetheless, I think that it is important for all of us, those whose involvement is in the past and those presently in the system, to put on our thinking caps and come up with a collective plan of action. Commitment to such a plan can only help to move us all from a position of powerlessness into one of strength.<br />
<br />
I have asked for ideas and have proposed one myself. Now I must pause and be patient, await responses and then figure out how to respond to them. In the meantime, I shall continue to formulate my own ideas, which presently range from how to provide better and more comprehensive investigation, how to enhance real due process in dependency court, how to increase the availability of in-home, wrap-around services to keep children from being needlessly removed from their own homes, and how to make the entire process more transparent and honest.<br />
<br />
The research and papers published on the NCCPR website are among the most helpful I can imagine. So as a first collective action, I have proposed that every member of Getting Child Protection Right contribute one dollar or whatever they can afford to that organization on the day that we grow to 400 members, and I plan to propose that we do the same each time we acquire 100 new members, thus increasing our contribution by $100 each time we hit that milestone in growth.<br />
<br />
I know that we can do more, but this is a start. <br />
<br />
Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-29420692392010442202010-05-28T18:28:00.000-07:002010-07-27T14:42:57.029-07:00What hath the Adoption and Safe Families Act wrought? A Letter to Bill Clinton.President William J. Clinton<br />
c/o William J. Clinton Foundation<br />
55 West 125th Street<br />
New York, NY 10027<br />
<br />
May 27, 2010<br />
<br />
Dear President Clinton:<br />
<br />
I am the father of two sons, Rudy, 21, and Jonah, 19, both college students. My wife, Jacqui, and I have been married for almost 24 years. She has secondary progressive multiple sclerosis, and I am her primary caregiver.<br />
<br />
I write to you today on behalf of other families, though; families who currently are and who in the future will be adversely affected by the policies launched with the passage of the Adoption and Safe Families Act (ASFA).<br />
<br />
In April 1999, our local Child Protective Services agency removed Rudy and Jonah from our home on groundless suspicions. After ten months of dependency court hearings and prompt compliance with every aspect of the case plan imposed upon us, we were reunited on a “trial visit” basis. After another eight months, the dependency court case was finally dismissed.<br />
<br />
The emotional stress of that nearly two-year experience accelerated the progression of Jacqui’s MS, and her disability increased considerably. My own stresses cost me a job. <br />
<br />
But none of that is my reason for writing you today. Instead, I want to tell you that, building on the policy foundation established by ASFA, South Carolina has passed a new law, the signing ceremony for which took place on Tuesday last. Under that law, holding children in foster care for just six months will become grounds to terminate parental rights forever. After 18 months, the new law requires termination of parental rights, no ifs, ands or buts.<br />
<br />
Because of the instrumental role you played with ASFA, it is very important that you know what is happening now. The policy of financial incentives from the Federal government to the states birthed by the passage of ASFA has become a malignancy, one threatening the well-being of American families.<br />
<br />
Please read the May 27, 2010, entry on the National Coalition for Child Protection Reform’s (NCCPR) Blog <a href="http://www.nccpr.blogspot.com/">http://www.nccpr.blogspot.com/</a> . I beseech you to use the power of your foundation to help reverse the harmful policies resulting from ASFA.<br />
<br />
I am more than happy to discuss this idea with you, and I have no doubt that Richard Wexler, Executive Director of the NCCPR would be as well.<br />
<br />
I also hope that you also read the new report of the Annie E. Casey Foundation on the reforms made in the Maine Child Protective Services bureaucracy. That report can be found at <a href="http://www.aecf.org/">http://www.aecf.org/</a>.<br />
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Thank you for reading this. I hope that you will use the resources of your Foundation to remedy the harm done by a law that was supposed to help, not harm, families and children.<br />
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Very truly yours,<br />
<br />
Steven H Hirsch<br />
*********************************<br />
<br />
Update: July 27, 2010<br />
<br />
Today I received the following letter of reply from Bill Clinton:<br />
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<em>"July 22, 2010 </em><br />
<br />
<em>Dear Steven:</em><br />
<br />
<em>Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts with me.</em><br />
<br />
<em>Our children are the future, and protecting them is our most profound responsibility. The goal of the Adoption and Safe Families Act was to give every child the opportunity to grow up in a healthy and safe environment, with the potential to become strong, successful adults. Throughout my Administration, we tried to increase the number of adoptions from the foster care system by eliminating race and ethicity barriers, breaking down geographic barriers by using the Internet, and ensuring health coverage for adopted children with special needs.</em><br />
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<em>I'm glad you share my belief in the importrance of advocating for children's safety. It's vital that we talk about the issues that are important to us, so I encourage you to continue to share your views.</em><br />
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<em>Sincerely,</em><br />
<br />
<em>/s/ Bill Clinton"</em><br />
*********************************************************************************<br />
<br />
So, since the entire point of my letter was missed, shall I take the time to write once more? Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-5890650452837915842009-12-22T21:46:00.000-08:002009-12-22T22:02:31.689-08:00Es su CASA mi CASA? I don't think so; at least it wasn't in our case.Today I saw that friend of mine had become a fan of the Facebook Cause that supports the National Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA) program. On the National CASA web page I found this quote: "The joy of being involved as a voice for a child needing a safe and permanent home <em>or helping a family to regenerate and become parents</em> is like Christmas every time!"—CASA volunteer Freddy W. Baugh writing on National CASA’s Facebook page. (Italics added) <br />
<br />
As a parent who, to this day, still feels very victimized by my family's experience ten years ago in what I can only describe as the meatgrinder of the Child Protective Services - Dependency Court system in Orange County, California, I initially bristled at reading that information. Not because my friend did anything to intentionally hurt me, because he certainly did not. I am sure that he is just trying to do something positive for the world and for children. <br />
<br />
My reaction is partly frustration that I still do not know what more I can do other than drumming up support for a wonderfully effective organization, The National Coalition for Child Protection Reform, <a href="http://www.nccpr.org/">http://www.nccpr.org/</a> , through my own Facebook Cause, "Getting Child Protection Right". And it's also partly frustration and, yes, resentment, that despite the presence of a CASA volunteer in our courtroom, no one from CASA ever spoke to me or to my wife. I wish they had.<br />
<br />
Looking at the phrase above, "helping a family to regenerate and become parents", presupposes that a family has stopped being a family and parents have stopped being parents. But how does that happen? In our case, it happened because no one in the system bothered to investigate us in any depth prior to taking action to separate parents from children. It happened becuase there is no CASA that is there for parents. Oh, of course there is an attorney, but our attorney (or, in our case, attorneys, plural, because of a potential legal conflict of interest between my wife and myself, despite no REAL conflict) were not able to get the court to really see how unbelievably we parents were being mistreated by the system until a hearing that took place some nine months from the time our boys were taken into custody. NINE MONTHS. Do you know what effect nine months of nights away from our kids did to the course of my wife's multiple sclerosis?<br />
<br />
I feel the pain of parents who write to me through "Getting Child Protection Right". Their pain is my pain. No doubt they could use a CASA, too.<br />
<br />
I think I'll share this blog entry with my friend. I think he'll understand.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-52440358927114092432009-10-02T07:58:00.000-07:002009-10-02T08:11:47.327-07:00Happy Birthday to Holly, and A Loving Tribute to the memory of Dr. Stanley van den Noort, M.D.Today is my friend Holly's birthday. She is a physician, wife, mother, cancer survivor. Despite the fact that we have only seen each other one time in our lives, she is a very special friend who came into my life during a most difficult time. We live many time zones apart and before this day passes, I want to send her my heartfelt good wishes on the occasion of her completion of yet one more solar circumnavigation.<br />Happy Birthday, Holly.<br /><br />* * *<br /><br />http://sciencedude.freedomblogging.com/2009/09/18/legendary-uci-researcher-van-den-noort-dies/57369/<br /><br />Stan was my wife’s neurologist for almost twenty years, and since I took her to almost all of her visits with him, we became good friends and allies in managing her battle against the chronic progressive nature of MS. He treated her through the remission that accompanied her second pregnancy and the nursing of our baby and watched our two little sons grow up, as we usually brought them to his office at UCI. <p>One afternoon In 1999, the OC Department of Child Protective Services took our boys from their elementary school in Irvine to Orangewood Children’s Home on allegations of abuse against me and failure to protect against my wife</p> <p>Three days later, after a CPS in-home investigation and evaluation, which included full disclosure of my wife’s MS and my spousal caregiving and parenting role, we reported for a hearing before an OC pro tem dependency court commissioner after CPS formally agreed in writing that our sons could return home. Our attorney told us that such agreements were rare and only given in those cases where CPS regarded parents highly and judged them as low risk.</p> <p>At that hearing, after objection to the agreement by an attorney from the contracted law firm representing the children, the pro tem commissioner imposed an additional requirement by court order: “Father not to be sole caregiver of the minor.” (sic)</p> <p>That order was neither discussed nor debated in open court and no one raised the issue of my wife’s MS and my caregiving role.</p> <p>That judicial indifference to the presence of the disease of MS in a family and lack of discussion by any of the attorneys present created a situation that made it impossible for us to comply with the court order. There were times when my wife had to lie down for a nap when I was the only other adult at home with the children. I clearly explained that to social workers who visited our home, whose response was that we were therefore in violation of the court order and would consequently lose the children.</p> <p>I explained the situation to our attorney and implored him to seek a modification of the court order, because MS prevented us from being able to comply. He told me that he attempted to do so, but failed.</p> <p>The inevitable happened. CPS took our boys away again and this time placed them in a “sibling assessment facility”.</p> <p>During this time, Stan, who had known our family for some ten years, went so far as to write a letter to the dependency court on our behalf. He knew what kind of parents we were and he was unfailingly supportive. It was incredible to him and to us how lack of awareness of the disease and its effect on a family could be so ignored by officialdom.</p> <p>My wife’s MS definitely worsened under the stress caused by the emotional pain of having our boys taken away. Stan did what he could to help us. He was a wonderful physician and a great friend. Our boys finally were allowed to come home ten and one half months later and the court finally dismissed the dependency case in December, 2000.</p> <p>Through relapses, remissions and exacerbations, Stan was always there. He got my wife into a late-stage clinical trial for Copaxone after her body rejected beta interferon, and she remains on that injectable medication today. That may be the reason she is not in a wheelchair full-time after some thirty years of living with MS.</p> <p>Stan was a wonderful clinician and researcher, a great professor and dedicated dean. But to us, he was a beloved healer and friend, advocate and ally, and rock of support. We have missed him for the two years since his brain injury, and now we will miss him forever.</p> <p>May his memory be a blessing to all who knew and loved him, and may our story be of comfort to his family, especially his beloved wife, June. </p><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-82766788768389150922009-05-24T11:07:00.001-07:002010-07-24T09:53:19.854-07:00Getting Child Protection RightIt's been some time since I've posted here. In the interim, my kids got me to join Facebook. Shortly thereafter, I established a Cause there with the same name as the title of this post. One purpose of that cause is to raise funds for The National Coalition for Child Protection Reform, a non-profit corporation based in Northern Virginia, whose executive director is Richard Wexler.<br />
<br />
When we were in the meatgrinder of the CPS system, I really wanted someone to help us get out of it, and naturally I went to the Internet for information. But now, with the benefit of the passage of time, I know that the real solution to how we, as a society, handle issues of child abuse and neglect must come on the policy level that will influence state legislators to take the action necessary to make the reforms that children and families so need and deserve.<br />
<br />
Here in California, where state finances are in turmoil, this could be an opportunity for reform ideas to take root. If there could be a non-governmental alternative to addressing cases of child abuse/neglect, one involving extended families, friends and support communities, what a different experience children and families in crisis would have.<br />
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<div id="refHTML"></div>Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-62797832108892893622008-04-12T01:08:00.000-07:002008-05-07T00:47:56.114-07:00So What's a Father to Do?I've found quite a few websites relating to the struggles parents have had in dependency court. It's certainly understandable how the pain and frustration of the experience leads people to seek a place where they can vent their feelings and maybe figure out a way to either "get back"at the beast that bit them or help others stay out of the meat grinder of the CPS system. One thing that is common to all of these websites is that the parents believe that they have been wronged.<br /><br />I am wondering whether there are any serious academic studies of dependency court cases. Given that these cases are confidential, any studies would no doubt have to de-identify the parties involved. The first thing it would be interesting to know is just what percent of petitions filed against parents by the state are contested by the parents, and what percent are not. When we had our very first hearing, I wanted to contest the allegations of the petition. I was certain that if my wife and I had the opportunity to explain our side of things, someone in a position of authority would certainly listen to reason, realize that the whole matter was a huge mistake and dismiss it at once.<br /><br />Boy, was I naive.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-43874985885504965942008-04-06T22:03:00.000-07:002010-07-24T11:17:45.128-07:00Child Protection ReformAfter our boys were taken away from us by CPS in 1999, I began to search the Internet for information that might help us to get them back. One of the websites that I found was that of the National Coalition for Child Protection Reform, www.nccpr.org. That organization advocates for systemic reform to policy makers and legislative bodies but does not deal with individual cases.<br />
<br />
A helpful website was created by Suzanne Shell. After reading it, I purchased a copy of her book, <i>Profane Justice</i>. Although my belief system differs from Suzanne's, I found her practical approach to be very helpful guidance. I was very impressed with her efforts to train family advocates and to proactively let people know what they needed to know in order to protect themselves from systemic abuses.<br />
<br />
One thing that most impacted my family's situation was the administrative law flavor of dependency cases. Neither fish nor fowl, dependency court was different from both criminal court and civil court, where, presumably, rules of evidence apply and hearsay can only be admitted under certain exceptions to the exclusionary rule. In dependency court, social workers were free to include whatever they wanted to in their reports, without regard to hearsay. Not only were inaccuracies and untruths included, many of their written statements were highly objectionable from a legal standpoint. Nonetheless, those reports were admitted <i>wholesale</i> into evidence. I found that the court typically accepted whatever the Department of Social Services said as truth, without question. Thus, once accused in the allegations of a filed petition, parents were treated as guilty until they could prove themselves innocent.<br />
<br />
Consequently, the first things I recommend are that the burden of proof be shifted and the standard for proof be changed. These cases should require the state to prove guilt, and to do so by virtue of the standard of, at a minimum, clear and convincing evidence. This is NOT just a <i>preponderance</i> of the evidence, but <i>clear and convincing evidence</i>.<br />
<br />
Next, the mandated reporter provision in the law regarding the reporting of suspected cases of child abuse and/or neglect needs to be eliminated. Allowing teachers, coaches, etc.<i> no</i> discretion to make a reasoned assessment before reporting cases to CPS is one of the things that caused us to end up in the meat grinder. It was all so needless. Once the ball started rolling, though, there was no way to stop it. <br />
<br />
In our case, the injury that lead to our boys being taken away was a black-and-blue mark left behind after an accidental bump on our younger son's forehead. And even more ridiculously, on that particular morning, we had costumed our son as Thomas Alva Edison, for he was to present a book report on a biography of the inventor.<br />
<br />
My wife fashioned a costume that came close to the depiction of Edison on the cover of the book, and I went so far as to put gel in his hair and part it right down the middle, as in the style worn by Edison. When I did so, it uncovered that black-and-blue mark on his forehead that had otherwise been hidden by the straight hair bangs that normally fell down to his eyebrows.<br />
<br />
<br />
Now, I ask: would I -- or would <i>anyone</i> -- have done such a thing if they had any inkling that they might be accused of child abuse? <br />
<br />
For all of you out there who either are parents or were once a child yourself (and I hope that covers everyone!), I must ask whether you or your child ever bumped your head by accident. Let me see a show of hands, please. O.K, looks like about half of you, if not slightly more. So if a child has a bump on his head, should teachers be mandated to report that to CPS or should they be allowed the discretion to try to find out what happened?<br />
<br />
I am convinced that had we been given the opportunity to meet with the mandated reporter, she would have realized that what was suspected child abuse was clearly the result of our son having accidentally bumped his head, an incident that his parents had absolutely nothing to do with. In fact, our son did not even remember at first how he did it. Only later did he recall the details of what had happened. It was entirely innocent and accidental, and no one else was involved. <br />
<br />
That was just the tip of the iceberg for us. So many other things could have been done to prevent the case from going forward if only some <i><b>reasonable efforts</b></i> had been made to do a thorough investigation of our family. I'll go into that topic in a subsequent post.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3851185433500921545.post-39507830895919677622008-03-31T00:24:00.000-07:002010-07-24T17:46:35.190-07:00In Memory of Gary Proctor, Esq.<div style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color rgb(221, 221, 221); border-style: none none solid; border-width: medium medium 1pt; margin-left: 0.5in; margin-right: 0in; padding: 0in 0in 13pt;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">My wife and I met Gary Proctor in April, 1999, shortly after our two boys, then 10 1/2 and 8 years of age, were taken into custody by Orange County Child Protective Services. My wife is disabled as a result of secondary progressive multiple sclerosis; I’m her primary caregiver.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The two of us were in shock over this. At our first court appearance, we were both represented by the same attorney but were advised that we should have separate counsel. I sought a referral and someone gave us <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Gary's name; </st1:city></st1:place>he ended up representing my wife. In reality, we both worked closely with him as we had no emotional or familial conflict, just one that was a legal technicality.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Our initial reaction to the situation was to reach out to just about everyone we knew and who knew us both as individuals and as a family: our family doctor; my wife’s MS neurologist; the kids’ pediatrician; our clergyman; our neighbors and friends and fellow soccer moms and dads; my fellow choir members; and family and children’s therapists we had seen off and on for several years. We asked each of them if they'd be willing to write a letter to the Department of Social Services (DSS), vouching for us as parents and telling what they knew of our family life. The response we received to our appeal was warm, empathetic, and universally supportive, and we hoped that the information our network of letter writers provided would give the DSS sufficient background and community contacts to allow them to do whatever they needed to in terms of investigation to realize that there was no reason for our children to be away from us.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">That effort went over like a lead balloon with the social worker assigned to our case. Officially, the petition filed in dependency court alleged that I had abused our kids and that my wife had failed to protect them from my abuse. I had been taking our older son to see a therapist in weeks prior, and after our first involvement with DSS, I went to see him myself, because I needed to vent my feelings. His words ended up being pretty much my experience: “When those people get a hold of you, it’s just as if they’ve thrown a bucket of s*** on you and you have to try to get it off.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I really wanted to fight the allegations, but <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Gary</st1:city></st1:place> told me that doing so would likely only make things worse. As an attorney, I had a hard time accepting what he was telling me, but as he tried to explain, and as I found out in short order, dependency court was a far different animal from criminal or civil court. Parents against whom petitions had been filed in dependency court did not have the due process rights or protection against the admission of hearsay evidence that they would have had in civil or criminal court. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I found it very Kafkaesque. My late in-laws, both refugees from Nazi Germany, found no small similarity in our experience to some of the ones they knew of from their own young lives during the 1930s.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">We learned that "reunification" was the stated goal of the DSS in our case, and that in order to get to that point, we had to fulfill the requirements of a document called our 'case plan'. Essentially, the case plan was a series of hurdles we had to clear in order to get our kids back.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">With Gary's help and our willing cooperation, we followed the case plan to the letter, and as aggressively as possible. Gary introduced us to a private psychologist known to the dependency court who began seeing us and who administered a variety of psychological tests. We did everything mandated by the case plan: completed every class, saw every therapist — and quickly! Because at the end of every day, after it got dark and we found ourselves getting ready for bed, we'd cuddle and say goodnight but carry within each of us a deep, painful heartache. There was nothing we wanted more than to have our boys back home and for us all to be together.</span><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></st1:city></st1:place></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Gary</span></st1:city></st1:place><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> made an important strategic recommendation. The initial caseworker assigned seemed to have a personal vendetta against us (against me, in particular) and was making things very difficult. Maybe it was because of all of those letters our supporters had submitted that she was having to read. <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">In any event, Gary</st1:city></st1:place> thought it would be best to postpone our next hearing for just long enough a period that DSS would assign a new caseworker. </span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"></st1:city></st1:place> While such a move might initially delay things, Gary thought that the delay would be well worth it if we could rid ourselves of that particular caseworker. So we took his advice, and he was right. The next case worker assigned was much less hostile, and I was more convinced than ever that <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Gary</st1:city></st1:place> knew exactly what he was doing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Seven months passed. Thanksgiving was approaching and we were hearing talk from our case worker about the possibility of the <i>first </i>“extended visit” with the boys – <i>unmonitored and unsupervised</i> — perhaps even an overnight stay. For those seven long months, every last one of our visits and phone calls with the boys had been very limited and monitored by DSS. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">We'd been asking for a joint therapy session with the kids and their assigned therapist -- one of the last remaining hurdles for us to clear in our case plan -- but that had not yet been scheduled. The one positive development thus far had been a recent formal ruling by our Referee (the acting judge in dependency court). He had ordered the DSS to liberalize visitation rules, as they had been so very restrictive for so long.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Needless to say, we were very excited about Thanksgiving and hopeful that soon our family’s long nightmare would be over. For the first time since that awful day in April, we were feeling some hope and optimism.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">On Wednesday afternoon, the day before Thankgiving, I was driving and had just stopped in a line of cars at a red light. All of a sudden, I was rear-ended by the car in line behind me as it was struck by a moving car that had failed to stop. After a moment of shock, I turned off my ignition and got out of the car. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I was in the process of exchanging insurance information with the other drivers when my cell phone rang. The voice on the other end introduced herself as a supervisory social worker. I did not recognize her name as we had never met before. She explained that she was calling to inform me that as the result of something that had transpired during the boys' therapy session (she would be no more specific than that), she had to cancel our scheduled visit with the boys for Thanksgiving, and informed me further that as a result of what had taken place in therapy, the DSS was going to seek a reversal of the Referee's recent order for liberalization of visitation rules!!! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">That news hit me much harder than the car behind me in line had done. I couldn't imagine what possibly might have taken place in the boys' therapy session that would lead to this. When I asked her what had happened, she told me that she really couldn't discuss that with me at the present time, but that this action on her part was necessary. I really could not believe that something like this was happening, and as the thought crossed my mind of having to call Jacqui and tell her this, I did everything I could to plead with her to <i>not</i> take that action until <i>after </i>Thanksgiving except get down on my knees in the middle of Fairview Blvd. But my plea fell to the asphalt and shattered in fragments.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I imagined myself as a little mouse being toyed with by a big, powerful cat, and I dreaded calling my wife with this news, but I did. When we went to bed that night, the room was filled with even <i>worse</i> heartache than we had felt the first night the boys had been taken away, if that was even possible.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">What, in heaven’s name, could have happened in that therapist’s office? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">The following week, I got a hint. The new caseworker told me that it had something to do with the words “Wet Willy”.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Wet Willy? What was she talking about? I was completely clueless.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">The first call I made was to my attorney. I left him a pretty strange message asking whether he had ever heard about something called "Wet Willy".</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">When he got back to his office he returned my call, but said he was sorry and really couldn’t help me; he didn’t know what it meant either. But there were a number of people milling around where he was, so he called out, “Does anyone here know what ‘Wet Willy’ means?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I heard some noise in the background, as some younger people in his office called out to him and then demonstrated for him one meaning of the words. Turns out that a "Wet Willy" is a child’s prank, where one child wets a finger with saliva and then sticks it in the ear of an unsuspecting victim, wiggling it around to inflict a most unpleasant sensation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">O.K., so now I knew what “Wet Willy” meant. But I still couldn’t understand how such a thing could have caused the DSS to cancel our Thanksgiving visit and want to restrict us once more to supervised visitation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">It was not until we finally had our first meeting with the boys' therapist that we got the whole story. During a session in her office, our sons had been playing with marbles on a carpeted floor when one of them said to the other, “That looks like ‘Wet Willy’!” The therapist asked them what “Wet Willy” was. Our older son replied, “Oh, <i>you</i> wouldn’t understand.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Although she didn’t push it any further to find out what exactly they were talking about, she assumed that it was something sexual!!! Since a “Willy” can be a euphemism for male genitalia, then, of course, a “Wet Willy” must be… oh, my God.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">We sat there incredulous, speechless. Now I realized why our Thanksgiving visit had been canceled. The allegations against us were about to take a <i>very</i> ugly turn for the worse.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">When we next saw <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Gary</st1:city></st1:place>, we told him the story. He was just as incredulous as I was, but he remained silent and just shook his head. My reaction entirely. But what he said next began to give us hope again.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">"These people are being hyper-vigilant with you. We have to see if we can make the Referee see that." </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">At our next visit with the boys, an unsupervised one, I asked them if they could tell us what "Wet Willy" means. Rudy gave me funny look, then they looked at each other and both started to laugh. "What was so funny?" I asked.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Without my offering a word of explanation, they already knew exactly the reason for my question. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">It seemed that during one session in the therapist's office, our younger son, who had recently turned 9, was playing with some marbles on the carpeted floor. At one point, his older brother noticed something and said, “Hey, that looks like Wet Willy!” </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I asked what they had said to the therapist when she asked what "Wet Willy" was, and our elder son said that he had told her, “You wouldn’t understand.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Then he said to us, “You know that little kid in the drop of water? The one on clothes and stuff?” That’s Wet Willy.” </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">What he was referring to was a corporate logo. It's a stylized cartoon caricature of a little boy inside of a drop of water, and it's used on a line of skateboards and children's active wear owned by a company called Worldwide Industries. That was the “Wet Willy” that got in the way of our Thanksgiving plans -- an image composed out of a certain configuration of marbles on the rug of the therapist's office. A good name for this story would be: <i>How Wet Willy Stole Thanksgiving</i>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"> True to form, the DSS filed a motion with the court to reverse the previous order liberalizing visitation. <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Gary</st1:city></st1:place> planned to contest it, and knowing what we now knew about Wet Willy, oh, how we looked forward to that hearing! It was to be the first time in ten months that we would have the opportunity to testify about how we had been treated by DSS. <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"> </st1:city></st1:place></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Gary</st1:city></st1:place> had subpoenaed the boys' therapist, but she remained outside in the hall while we were called to testify in opposition to the DSS' request. After our testimony, the therapist was called. She entered the courtroom and Gary had her called to the witness stand. I don't think she saw the license plate of the truck that was about to hit her. You can imagine what happened. She told the court the “Wet Willy” story and her interpretation of things. When <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Gary</st1:city></st1:place> examined the witness, he asked whether she knew of any alternative explanations for the expression, and she did not. He asked whether in her conversations with anyone at the DSS, anything other than a sexual reference for the term had been discussed. No. With that, she was dismissed as a witness.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Gary then took some time to make a brief statement about what had transpired in this case. He listed every single item on the DSS' case plan and the dates that we had completed them, the private psychological evaluation that we had voluntarily undergone and paid for out of our own pockets, and then summarized the scrutiny we had been subjected to by the DSS as nothing other than unjustified and arbitrary hyper-vigilance.</span><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></st1:city></st1:place><br />
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<st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Gary</span></st1:city></st1:place><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> then asked the Referee to deny the DSS’s motion and reaffirm the liberalized visitation order. That's what the Referee did, and that is what finally led to our boys coming home on what was called a “trial visit” in February, 2000. </span><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I didn’t know this at the time, but <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Gary</st1:city></st1:place> later let me know that he had trained the attorney who was the Referee in our case.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">From that time on, the boys remained home with us. Finally, in December of 2000, the case was dismissed by the court and the DSS got to consider our family one of its “success stories”. The department case plan had been fulfilled, the family was reunited on a trial basis after ten and one-half months of separation, and now would remain reunited. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">For my wife and me, it had been ten and one-half months of emotional agony, financial strain (I’d had to resign from a job under the stress I was experiencing) and my wife's stress definitely affected her MS, as several of her symptoms worsened during that time. We were a family that should never have been put through such a traumatic experience in the first place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">The dark cloud of this experience had one lustrous silver lining. Incredibly wonderful and selfless friends in our own community, one family that has known us since our eldest’s first birthday party and another that has known us almost as long volunteered to be first and second in line to be foster parents for our boys. Our sons were moved to the first family's home after two months in a "sibling assessment facility", and they remained there until they were allowed to come home. Although we were not allowed to see or have a telephone call with our boys without a monitor being present, and although we had to remain at arm's length from our friends who were serving as foster parents, when our boys moved to our friends' home for foster care, they also returned to their neighborhood school and their circle of friends. That was a blessing. A major blessing. And we are forever grateful to these wonderful people.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I am absolutely certain that without <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Gary</st1:city></st1:place>’s knowledge, skill and expertise, our forced separation would have continued for far longer, and our story might not have had such a happy ending.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I had not been in touch with <st1:city st="on">Gary</st1:city> for some time, and it was a terrible shock to pick up the newspaper and read of <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">his</st1:city></st1:place> death. I tried to imagine how the debilitating back pain coupled with the recent events at his law firm pushed him to such an act.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I’m sure there are countless stories of families like mine that <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Gary</st1:city></st1:place> helped. He will be missed by many.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">To his wife, daughter and son I wish much healing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">My family and I will be forever grateful for what <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Gary</st1:city></st1:place> did for us.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border: medium none; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div></div>Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06276170620588084543noreply@blogger.com0