"You know how in most of the stories you see, the antagonist captures whom the protagonist loves, and and holds them hostage to force the protagonist to do whatever the antagonist demands?
An image of a man with a gun pointed at the head of a scared child sits in the center of my mind.
For the better part of the last decade now, this has been my life.
There’s the man, the violent weapon has been the court system, aimed terrifyingly and destructively at my children, for years now.
In a bizarre series of unexpected court hearings in the last wks, that’s abruptly changed.
Over. Somehow the gun was suddenly laid aside and the hostages simply let go.
And another judge finally heard the voice of a scared, brave, exhausted, hostage.
I remember years back when three grown adult-children, young men in their ties & jackets, waited in a court room to take the stand and use their voice to advocate for their younger siblings to be protected.
A court appointed guardian ad litem (GAL), who met with the 5 minor children for 45 min in preparation for the hearing, stated to the judge she didn’t want the boys to testify. She didn’t think it necessary or relevant. She believed the position of the father.
The father who had been rapidly becoming extremely more bizarre and volatile.
When I came home one day to a large hunting knife on my pillow while we were living apart, I knew I could never again attempt to reconcile. We had been separated a while. I was always foolishly hoping he would get help. ‘It’ would get better. I knew then it would only get worse.
When I formally filed for divorce the threats, schemes, flat tires, break-ins, were exhausting. But nothing ever compares to the fear you feel as a mother, when someone threatens to harm your child.
You don’t know powerless until someone says; “it would be a shame if the boat tipped while we’re on the lake today, toddlers drown all the time.”
The toddler didn’t have a boating accident that day, instead he came home with sever burns on his hand. Shut into the back of a truck bed with a lit gas stove.
I was told to believe it was an accident.
I was told I was exaggerating.
I was told I was trying to make him look bad.
I was told I was lying.
I was told the children were lying.
I was taken to court over and over. The GAL & Commissioner threatened me with jail at every turn and loss of custody if I continued to believe my children, protect my children, or speak of abuse.
On the children’s weekend visits they would have water withheld the 3 days, only some sprite because ‘if you were sick at a hospital that’s what they’d give you.’ They were not allowed to brush their teeth or have basic hygeine. They would be purposely served spoiled foods, even with visible mold at times. They would be subjected to days of sleep deprivation. Made to stand in a line, until they physically collapsed on the floor. Sadie’s hearing aides taken from her, not allowed to have them on his weekend, “it would make her weak.” she was told. No cell phones “because phones interrupt our quality time together”, he told the courts. So they were prohibited. Only the truth was, the children had taken pictures of the knives he was threatening them with and we had taken the pictures to the police.
If there would be an actionable assault on a child, police would arrest him, present charges. The DA would decide not to prosecute, or it would be plead down to ‘disorderly conduct’, not a criminal offense, or another offer of anger management.
The children would come home exhausted. Mentally and emotionally battered. But there were no bruises, so it wasn’t “provable abuse”. And their court appointed advocate, their GAL, she didn’t speak to them because she already had, that 45min meeting a couple years ago, and knew she didn’t believe them. Her voice alone, the ‘expert’ in court.
Counselors, teachers, police, medical professionals would call CPS over these years reporting the bizarre and abusive actions the children were being subjected to. CPS would implement supervised visits, he would comply, supervision would end, and the cycle would start all over.
The children would have night terrors, vomit before visits, wet the bed, be unable to eat, beg me not to make them go. It’s been unbelievable inexpressible torture to be in this position.
If I didn’t force myself to send them, I would be taken back to court. Every time I was summonsed back to court I was threatened with jail if I didn’t hand them over, and the woman who was the “advocate” for my children, who in 5yrs spoke with them twice, said she wouldn’t hear the 23 witnesses waiting in the hall to testify, because she didn’t believe us.
The police officers who came, the teachers, counselors, CPS’s workers, Pastors. None of them were allowed to testify. The Commissioner & GAL refused to let them in the court room.
While looking at a picture of my youngest daughter’s neck with the fingerprints of her father still visible on it days later, the Commissioner stated; “he may not be a great father, but he’s still their father. And you will hand them over or go to jail.”
Then I was issued a gag order. Told I couldn’t speak to my witnesses.
I had contemplated running with my children. I was encouraged not to. Stand strong or I’d lose them for sure, was the biggest reason. If I took them and ran and got caught, it would be parental kidnapping. Jail. I wouldn’t be able to at least be there to care for them and love them in the midst of this bizarre insanity. He would have full custody.
So here I’ve stayed. Fighting. Trying to be steady. Consistent. Normal. Celebrate birthdays, holidays, movie nights, smile, don’t let it consume, don’t complain, it could be worse, what’s for dinner?
Detectives did a 3 month investigation. Charges, some felony abuse charges, brought again to the DA. The detectives were confident in their case, their Lieutenant as well, and they were simply waiting for the warrant they told me.
I didn’t send them to the visit.
The warrant didn’t come.
The D.A again, decided not to pursue charges. Again, I’m in contempt, I am the criminal, I am threatened with being arrested. “OH! And bring your check book!” The commissioner screamed at me in the court room. “Because you will be paying for everyone’s court costs! Let’s see if that helps you comply!”
There have been a total of 19 criminal charges. I think of those 6 are felony charges.
And yet it continued.
Not one single piece of evidence has ever been presented against me in court beyond his accusations, and a GAL’s opinion. Not one piece of evidence to prove what was really happening ever accepted. Not one person allowed to testify.
Yet another assault he inflicted on one of the children brought yet again supervised visits. Criminal court implements no contact with 2 children involved in the assault, this is standard procedure. CPS is involved again. Back to court. The GAL says the children will go regardless of Child protective Services opinion. The commissioner says child protective services have “no authority in my court! THIS IS MY COURT!” he screams. The GAL wants criminal court to remove the no-contact/supervised visits as soon as possible.
In the meantime, only the youngest 2 children have to go to visits accompanied by a supervisor while they shuffle the paperwork and wait for the DA to dismiss his charges. Again.
Then suddenly, on a random Thursday, there’s a hearing. This was supposed to be the termination of the supervised visits was my thought. My admonishment that my children are dramatic liars, I shouldn’t be believing them, stop alienating the other party as a parent, give him the children, THEY the courts have had enough of me, and I would get my formal criminal charges, lose custody rights, off to jail...but I wasn’t even addressed in the hearing. Not by the commissioner, nor by the GAL. No one said I would go to jail. No one yelled. No threats. No one said anything to me.
Instead they said the temporary supervised visits would become permanent orders.
They said "that concludes this matter with the court."
That’s it.
It was over. In a hearing 23 minutes start to finish it abruptly concluded.
I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why it happened.
As bizarre and confusing as it has ever been, it’s ended.
This abrupt end was followed by another hearing a wk later. Where a bold, brave, exhausted young woman was seeking a child-abuse restraining order. Something she and her counselor applied for in hopes of circumventing family court making her a victim again.
A get out of jail free card from ever being forced again, by a court or otherwise, to be subjected to the insanity. She is the envy of all her siblings that she got the opportunity to have a voice to say to those in power and to the one who victimized her; “THESE ARE THE THINGS YOU DID TO ME. And it was wrong.”
He did what he’s done so often. What made me feel guilty, sympathetic and kept me bound for years. He cried. Doesn’t that just sound stupid?!
Now in this court, he cried. He pleaded. He said he was “just trying to do the best he could.” It was the child who had a problem. Let him be a father and help. It wasn’t as bad as it was made out to be. He just wanted what was best for his children. He would do anything he could for his children.
In this hearing he was called a liar.
He was told that even through his tears he wasn’t believed. If he had truly wanted what was best for his children he wouldn’t have harmed them in the first place. Let alone year after year. He was told that there was no doubt that he had not only physically, mentally and emotionally abused, but damaged.
And with that one more child joined her siblings who have no contact with the man God had given the opportunity to love, protect, serve, but instead victimized. Only she didn’t have to wait for her 18th birthday.
And there’s VICTORY!!
There’s no justice. Not yet anyway.
He doesn’t get charged with a crime.
He gets to see his two youngest children 2hours a wk with a supervising counselor.
The Commissioner and GAL are still in their positions of power. Able to continue to abuse their authority and further victimize families.
Somehow poetically, in authentic story format, it has ended when it begun. As I realize today is the anniversary, April 17th, when we were sucked into the corrupt Rock County court system.
The county with the highest ACE scores in the state.
The county with the most amount of children in foster care.
The county with unfathomably increasing human trafficking rates.
The county with uncommonly high domestic violence rates.
The county where the man who has been the DA since 1997 doesn’t pursue charges on those committing crimes.
I was told of the last incidence of assault on a child, “the DA doesn’t want to pursue criminal charges against someone who doesn’t have a criminal record.”
Can YOU process that? Because I wasn’t quite able to digest it.
In my mind, he doesn’t have a criminal record because our DA wont hold him accountable for the crimes he’s committed! Which is the only thing preventing him from having the necessary criminal record which would somehow make the DA feel better about doing his job.
If only there was more concern with not only the comfort, but safety and well-being of our communities children as there is the DA’s comfort about accusing criminals of crimes.
I feel like my children have been held at gunpoint and I have been threatened and silenced.
In all this, as we have prayed for our own freedom, we have also prayed for the others who surely must be experiencing similar injustices in our very corrupt local legal system.
If you are, I am so sorry!!
I am now more than $20k in debt with court & legal expenses. I have an unfinished degree from running out of time as well as student loan funds, trying to juggle school, battle courts, and all the while trying to orchestrate making home life as good as possible. Minimize the struggle, don’t complain, don’t burden others, there’s nothing that can be done, what’s for dinner? Stay on top of laundry, dishes, help children with homework, time to make breakfast, comfort nightmares, get gas, shuffle to appointments, and on and on. I have found myself tired in a way I just can’t seem to overcome. I hear myself whisper ‘I’m tired’ before I realize I’ve said it yet again. And it’s annoying. I have aged immensely and become more discouraged than I could express.
For those who have known, prayed, loved, cried, supported, remained, I have no words enough to thank you. Ever.
I will always know I can trust my Saviour and His goodness. I will always know love and goodness comes. Unexpectedly. Illogically at times, from sources not imagined or considered, but it comes. Even in this world overrun with unjust people.
For the rest of you, I tell you this to because I can. Because it’s over. Because it’s today. Because you should be aware of the insane corruption in our county. Because maybe someone will hold those who held us hostage accountable. Because selfishly, I think maybe if I get it out of my head I can rest. Most importantly, maybe knowing of our terrible struggle, can help someone else."
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Hi Friends,
I met Ali in when we lived in Florida before we both moved to different states. What I remember most about her is her smile and joy in the Lord.
Ali shared all this a few weeks ago on her Facebook page.
While we might not be able to fix anything or make everything OK, I believe there is something that we can do. We can show Ali and her family that they are not alone. Together we can lift the weight of debt off her shoulders and give her one less thing to carry.
Wouldn't it be incredible if we could totally cover the cost of the years she spent in court protecting her children?
~Melissa
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