First Draft


  Introduction: A "picture" has recently been portrayed by Children & Youth to the court's record, arguing that I pose some sort of physical threat. What ever. Retaliation for starting a web site. On 01-11-2001, my one attorney, during a phone conversation, relaying contents of a phone conversation he had with Attorney Brad Jackman on or about the same day, said, more or less, according to Jackman, in regards to why my visitation was suspended ex parte again, "[Jackman said] he could no longer guarantee the safety of those working at Children & Youth...no one wants to be around you..." Interesting. They have to invent something as a diversion for the content of this web site. The first thing coming to mind, I argue guilt is starting to set in place and inexperience dealing with accounts in the public forum: hanging dirty laundry. I have openly disclosed on this web site that, by any sort of substance, there never was a "Plan A". So long as the charade was in progress, relying on my "cooperation" to play the fool, fake smiles and empty, well rehearsed ritual preoccupied their mind as such bureaucratic foreplay fancied the moment.

  These people at Children & Youth, the fine catholics, have no idea who I am let alone my belief that makes the core of my person. By trick and device, by plain old-fashioned fraud and deceit, they have, like thieves, took possession of my daughter. Furthermore, with like posture, have taken hold of my assets to finance the abduction. One thing beyond their reach is my dignity.

  These people not only pray for violence but thrive upon its tender morsels as they have an acquired taste for the macabre. To have one, indisputable act of physical violence, trying desperately to make it happen, is a trophy that spreads vindication to all that has taken place during the previous time. Unfounded allegations of a threat is one thing. Not once did I do anything in a physical sense. Always, polite and conduct as a gentleman in their presence.

  Example: After the charade that took place on 05-29-2001, I faxed the social worker, Jodi, a letter informing her that I no longer felt safe picking up my daughter at Carolyn's home and wanted a "neutral" location. From then on I would pick up my daughter at a local restaurant in Quakertown. I also requested that Amanda stay away. (Carolyn was the "foster mother".) What happened? She came along anyway. One scene, as Carolyn pulled up, Amanda turned around between the bucket seats to face my daughter and started kissing my daughter on the lips repeatedly. I didn't care to see such a display that was obvious an act of provocation. I faxed a letter of complaint, in part, asking if Amanda was a lesbian. I also said she is not the mother of my daughter and that I didn't get sweaty between her legs to have a child. (A remark told to the court out of context; they forgot to tell the judge what preceded the letter.)

  A part of Scripture comes to mind, in what is commonly known as "Romans, Chapter 12:20-21", which reads, "Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head. Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good".

  Good? Evil? Who's yardstick do we use?

  Many should be familiar with the story of how Paul, the apostle, was converted during his journey on the Damascus road. Then, known as Saul, was obviously an "enemy" of the early following for he was determined to crush the rebellion with all sorts of violence. He was going to Damascus to arrest members of the early following. What happened? If I may speculate, "G-d" look down and said, "Look at this man, full of zeal and determination. I could use a man like that, to change him from an adversary to ally". That is exactly what happened. So, with a new name change after his conversion, he continued, now known as Paul, building what he formally tried to destroy with earnest. As Saul, he was a lawyer, a ranking bureaucrat with position and power. Interesting, by his own words, he said that all he was in the former, he counted as shit. (A rose by and other name is still a rose. Read what is commonly known as "Philippians 3:8". The "dung" word is used.) Yes, he counted his former position in the bureaucratic world as shit. My kind of guy.

  Moral of the story? First, there is a saying, keep your friends close and your enemies ever closer. In the situation just mentioned, just maybe, your worst enemy has been brought to arm's length to interpolate his direction. By far the greatest act of violence would be turning him into a friend.

  As a matter of record, over two years ago Brad Jackman, among others, have my written words that I have taken an oath of non violence. Soon, it will be 21 years ago that I did one single act of violence. Once in my life I acted like a catholic and used arbitration discretion on another human. Didn't like it. (More Later.)


  Speaking of violence, many years ago, looking back in retrospect, without realizing it, I played the part within a group of social workers. I know how these people think; no different than prison guards. The comfort they received from each other as the lure of solidarity clouds the senses.

  Time frame: circa 1967. Going to junior high school gave way to meet new friends. During this time getting interested in girls, as hormones started kicking in, shifted interests on what was developing. One girl, Roberta, was in our class and started budding sooner than the other girls. Naturally she was the focus of many. One night, in what we thought was harmless fun, a group of us went to her home, stood between the houses and threw rocks at her bedroom window. Why? Hoping for her to give us a peek. To our surprise she did. For us kids, wow! Naturally a few days later we went again. Only this time, her father opened the lower window and started yelling. We were in panic. Some ran towards the front and I was with those who ran towards the back. At the end of the houses, jumped over a small gate towards the ally while looking over our shoulders to see if her father was giving chase. (Back then, I guess people were modest because they didn't hang under garments on the clothes line during the day.) As we ran, two of us got snagged by the cloths line and many items went flying. Without second thought, as we got up, spontaneous decision was made to take several items along. A few blocks away our group gathered, made head count and relived the moment with ease of distance. As we walked, the guys wanted to examine our trophies. They consisted of Roberta's bras and panties. Four or five pieces. A few took turns putting the bras on or simulating caressing what they would contain. After a few blocks the thrill worn thin, as we had to go separate ways home, a question arose: What to do with the stuff? By this time three of us were taking a short cut through a parking lot. As we walked between the cars, inspiration took hold and one of the crew tossed an item into the back of a truck bed. Inspiration exploded. We walked up to one car, opened the door and pushed an item under the front seat. Yet another, placed one in the glove compartment. We all thought the prank was funny but didn't realize the long term effects of our actions.

  Think of it? A wife has the family car and finds the bra of a young teenager under the front seat. What is she to think? Honey, look what I found in the car. Can you please explain? Don't tell me you don't know how it got there. Do you think I'm stupid to believe that someone walking by decided to put this in our car? (If such a possible interrogation ever took place, little did that women realize that is exactly what happened.)

  Correlation? Move the scene from a parking lot to a court room. Same thing goes on, only this time social workers are doing the pranks. Replace the women with a judge, asking the same questions, as the crew stands there with innocent stare.


  Time frame, November, 1999. Bonnie and I drove down to see Attorney Williams, III, at his office. (The man I call Mr. Eraser.) For a thousand dollar fee, his advice? "Put on a suit, practice a fake smile and tell the court what they want to hear".

  I have been told that the judge has been changed again, back to Judge Cynthia Rufe for the next hearing tentatively set for 02-12-2002. What would I want to say?

  I'd like to state what Attorney Williams had to say and ask her if that was good advice, should I use it before the court and does she expect such a performance. If that's the "norm", then what are we doing? Yes, if that's expected, then why not borrow a few mistlettes from a church, use them as a pattern, and hand them out when the Mass begins.


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Updated: 01-31-2002