Vesselin Mitev
New York Law Journal
May 05, 2009

A Long Island, N.Y., matrimonial attorney who did not bill her client at the requisite 60-day intervals cannot collect claimed legal fees, a New York state judge has ruled.

Attorney Charlene K. Verkowitz, appearing pro se, argued that she had substantially complied with rules requiring matrimonial lawyers to provide written, itemized bills at least every 60 days.

But New York Supreme Court Justice William R. LaMarca of Nassau County disagreed, noting in Verkowitz v. Torres, 17206/06, that since Verkowitz had not "follow[ed] the rules," she had to forfeit her fees.

Verkowitz, of New Hyde Park, N.Y., was hired by Ernest Torres on Nov. 7, 2002, to represent him in a Suffolk County Family Court support hearing. That day, Torres signed a retainer and paid a $3,500 fee, according to the decision.

The next month, Torres retained Verkowitz to represent him in a separate matrimonial action. Unused portions of his previous retainer were credited to the matrimonial bill, and Torres paid an additional $3,500.

On July 14, 2003, Torres relieved Verkowitz as counsel, prompting the subsequent suit over $7,915 in counsel fees plus costs, according to the decision.

During the eight-month period from initial retainer to her discharge, Verkowitz sent four bills to Torres: on Dec. 6, 2002; Feb. 3, 2003; June 17, 2003; and Nov. 5, 2003.

The Feb. 3, 2003, bill showed a credit balance of $2,309 but more than 120 days had elapsed between the February bill and the June 17 bill. Her lawsuit only covered fees mentioned in the first three bills.

At trial in December 2008, Verkowitz testified that between the second and third billing cycle she "continually advised" Torres that his retainer had been exhausted. Torres was "often" in her office during this time reviewing his case, according to the decision.

Torres denied he was told about the bills and claimed he told Verkowitz about his "dire financial straits," which were also the subject of a motion to modify a separation agreement with his wife, Justice LaMarca wrote.

According to Michael R. Walker, Torres' attorney, his client had limited funds, as evidenced by the fact he charged the first two retainers on his girlfriend's credit card.

Under 22 NYCRR 1400.3, a retainer agreement sets forth the "[f]requency of itemized billing, which shall be at least every 60 days; the client may not be charged for time spent in discussion of the bills received."

Here, LaMarca wrote, "there is no doubt that Verkowitz did not abide by the rules, in that she did not provide written itemized bills at least every 60 days."

The failure to comply with the rules "promulgated to address abuses in the practice of matrimonial law and to protect the public will result in preclusion from recovering such legal fees," the judge continued, quoting Julien v. Machson, 245 AD2d 122.

Verkowitz cited, among other cases, Mulcahy v. Mulcahy, 285 AD2d 587, and Sherman v. Sherman, 34 AD3d 670, which set forth that attorney fees may be recovered if there is "substantial compliance" with 22 NYCRR 1400.3.

However, LaMarca distinguished those cases as addressing the recovery of legal fees from an adversary spouse, observing "[t]hat is not this case."

"In all cases cited by Verkowitz, the courts recited the law ... that attorneys must follow the rules or forfeit legal fees," the judge held. "There is no doubt that the third bill ... was not sent within 60 days as mandated."

Although he held that Verkowitz did not substantially comply with the rules, LaMarca did not order her to return the $2,309 credit indicated on the second bill, citing Mulcahy for the proposition that "a court need not direct the return of a retainer fee already paid for properly-earned services."

In an interview, Walker said his client's case was factually different than that of a Brooklyn accountant who earlier this year was ordered to pay his attorney fees despite a 17-month billing delay.

In Edelstein v. Greisman, 18848/08, attorney Saul Edelstein had won at the arbitration level before Brooklyn Supreme Court Justice Mark I. Partnow upheld his award.

Here, Verkowitz had lost in arbitration, Walker said.

LaMarca properly interpreted the statute, said Walker, of Gallagher, Walker, Bianco & Plastaras in Mineola, N.Y. "We have strict rules precisely for this reason."

In an interview, Verkowitz said she "respectfully disagree[d] with the judge's interpretation of substantial compliance."

She said the initial arbitration award was "100 percent" in her favor but had been overturned by a "technicality," prompting a rehearing which she lost.

LaMarca's decision did not mention the arbitration.

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YouTube - CPS Involved In Child Trafficking Rings Explains Senator Schafer 1 of 4
  

Guaranteeing Equal Rights

Promote a fair and independent judiciary with
judicial nominees who have a demonstrated
commitment to fundamental rights

Consult broadly during the judicial nomination
process and ensure Congress fully exercises its role
to advise and consent

Enact a comprehensive federal ban on sex
discrimination and adopt the international
Convention on Elimination of all Forms of
Discrimination Against Women

Fully fund domestic violence programs and ensure
victims have needed supports

Strengthen protections against human trafficking

National Partnership for Women & Families:

Guaranteeing Equal Rights

Promote a fair and independent judiciary with
judicial nominees who have a demonstrated
commitment to fundamental rights

Consult broadly during the judicial nomination
process and ensure Congress fully exercises its role
to advise and consent

Enact a comprehensive federal ban on sex
discrimination and adopt the international
Convention on Elimination of all Forms of
Discrimination Against Women

Fully fund domestic violence programs and ensure
victims have needed supports

Strengthen protections against human trafficking

National Partnership for Women & Families:

The girl in the window

Lane DeGregory, Times Staff Writer

Published Thursday, July 31, 2008

Part One: The Feral Child

PLANT CITY — The family had lived in the rundown rental house for almost three years when someone first saw a child's face in the window.

A little girl, pale, with dark eyes, lifted a dirty blanket above the broken glass and peered out, one neighbor remembered.

Everyone knew a woman lived in the house with her boyfriend and two adult sons. But they had never seen a child there, had never noticed anyone playing in the overgrown yard.

The girl looked young, 5 or 6, and thin. Too thin. Her cheeks seemed sunken; her eyes were lost.

The child stared into the square of sunlight, then slipped away.

Months went by. The face never reappeared.

Just before noon on July 13, 2005, a Plant City police car pulled up outside that shattered window. Two officers went into the house — and one stumbled back out.

Clutching his stomach, the rookie retched in the weeds.

Plant City Detective Mark Holste had been on the force for 18 years when he and his young partner were sent to the house on Old Sydney Road to stand by during a child abuse investigation. Someone had finally called the police.

They found a car parked outside. The driver's door was open and a woman was slumped over in her seat, sobbing. She was an investigator for the Florida Department of Children and Families.

"Unbelievable," she told Holste. "The worst I've ever seen."

The police officers walked through the front door, into a cramped living room.

"I've been in rooms with bodies rotting there for a week and it never stunk that bad," Holste said later. "There's just no way to describe it. Urine and feces — dog, cat and human excrement — smeared on the walls, mashed into the carpet. Everything dank and rotting."

Tattered curtains, yellow with cigarette smoke, dangling from bent metal rods. Cardboard and old comforters stuffed into broken, grimy windows. Trash blanketing the stained couch, the sticky counters.

The floor, walls, even the ceiling seemed to sway beneath legions of scuttling roaches.

"It sounded like you were walking on eggshells. You couldn't take a step without crunching German cockroaches," the detective said. "They were in the lights, in the furniture. Even inside the freezer. The freezer!"

While Holste looked around, a stout woman in a faded housecoat demanded to know what was going on. Yes, she lived there. Yes, those were her two sons in the living room. Her daughter? Well, yes, she had a daughter . . .

The detective strode past her, down a narrow hall. He turned the handle on a door, which opened into a space the size of a walk-in closet. He squinted in the dark.

At his feet, something stirred.

• • •

First he saw the girl's eyes: dark and wide, unfocused, unblinking. She wasn't looking at him so much as through him.

She lay on a torn, moldy mattress on the floor. She was curled on her side, long legs tucked into her emaciated chest. Her ribs and collarbone jutted out; one skinny arm was slung over her face; her black hair was matted, crawling with lice. Insect bites, rashes and sores pocked her skin. Though she looked old enough to be in school, she was naked — except for a swollen diaper.

"The pile of dirty diapers in that room must have been 4 feet high," the detective said. "The glass in the window had been broken, and that child was just lying there, surrounded by her own excrement and bugs."

When he bent to lift her, she yelped like a lamb. "It felt like I was picking up a baby," Holste said. "I put her over my shoulder, and that diaper started leaking down my leg."

The girl didn't struggle. Holste asked, What's your name, honey? The girl didn't seem to hear.

He searched for clothes to dress her, but found only balled-up laundry, flecked with feces. He looked for a toy, a doll, a stuffed animal. "But the only ones I found were covered in maggots and roaches."

Choking back rage, he approached the mother. How could you let this happen?

"The mother's statement was: 'I'm doing the best I can,' " the detective said. "I told her, 'The best you can sucks!' "

He wanted to arrest the woman right then, but when he called his boss he was told to let DCF do its own investigation.

So the detective carried the girl down the dim hall, past her brothers, past her mother in the doorway, who was shrieking, "Don't take my baby!" He buckled the child into the state investigator's car. The investigator agreed: They had to get the girl out of there.

"Radio ahead to Tampa General," the detective remembers telling his partner. "If this child doesn't get to a hospital, she's not going to make it."

• • •

Her name, her mother had said, was Danielle. She was almost 7 years old.

She weighed 46 pounds. She was malnourished and anemic. In the pediatric intensive care unit they tried to feed the girl, but she couldn't chew or swallow solid food. So they put her on an IV and let her drink from a bottle.

Aides bathed her, scrubbed the sores on her face, trimmed her torn fingernails. They had to cut her tangled hair before they could comb out the lice.

Her caseworker determined that she had never been to school, never seen a doctor. She didn't know how to hold a doll, didn't understand peek-a-boo. "Due to the severe neglect," a doctor would write, "the child will be disabled for the rest of her life."

Hunched in an oversized crib, Danielle curled in on herself like a potato bug, then writhed angrily, kicking and thrashing. To calm herself, she batted at her toes and sucked her fists. "Like an infant," one doctor wrote.

She wouldn't make eye contact. She didn't react to heat or cold — or pain. The insertion of an IV needle elicited no reaction. She never cried. With a nurse holding her hands, she could stand and walk sideways on her toes, like a crab. She couldn't talk, didn't know how to nod yes or no. Once in a while she grunted.

She couldn't tell anyone what had happened, what was wrong, what hurt.

Dr. Kathleen Armstrong, director of pediatric psychology at the University of South Florida medical school, was the first psychologist to examine Danielle. She said medical tests, brain scans, and vision, hearing and genetics checks found nothing wrong with the child. She wasn't deaf, wasn't autistic, had no physical ailments such as cerebral palsy or muscular dystrophy.

The doctors and social workers had no way of knowing all that had happened to Danielle. But the scene at the house, along with Danielle's almost comatose condition, led them to believe she had never been cared for beyond basic sustenance. Hard as it was to imagine, they doubted she had ever been taken out in the sun, sung to sleep, even hugged or held. She was fragile and beautiful, but whatever makes a person human seemed somehow missing.

Armstrong called the girl's condition "environmental autism." Danielle had been deprived of interaction for so long, the doctor believed, that she had withdrawn into herself.

The most extraordinary thing about Danielle, Armstrong said, was her lack of engagement with people, with anything. "There was no light in her eye, no response or recognition. . . . We saw a little girl who didn't even respond to hugs or affection. Even a child with the most severe autism responds to those."

Danielle's was "the most outrageous case of neglect I've ever seen."

• • •

The authorities had discovered the rarest and most pitiable of creatures: a feral child.

The term is not a diagnosis. It comes from historic accounts — some fictional, some true — of children raised by animals and therefore not exposed to human nurturing. Wolf boys and bird girls, Tarzan, Mowgli from The Jungle Book.

It's said that during the Holy Roman Empire, Frederick II gave a group of infants to some nuns. He told them to take care of the children but never to speak to them. He believed the babies would eventually reveal the true language of God. Instead, they died from the lack of interaction.

Then there was the Wild Boy of Aveyron, who wandered out of the woods near Paris in 1800, naked and grunting. He was about 12. A teacher took him in and named him Victor. He tried to socialize the child, teach him to talk. But after several years, he gave up on the teen and asked the housekeeper to care for him.

"In the first five years of life, 85 percent of the brain is developed," said Armstrong, the psychologist who examined Danielle. "Those early relationships, more than anything else, help wire the brain and provide children with the experience to trust, to develop language, to communicate. They need that system to relate to the world."

The importance of nurturing has been shown again and again. In the 1960s, psychologist Harry Harlow put groups of infant rhesus monkeys in a room with two artificial mothers. One, made of wire, dispensed food. The other, of terrycloth, extended cradled arms. Though they were starving, the baby monkeys all climbed into the warm cloth arms.

"Primates need comfort even more than they need food," Armstrong said.

The most recent case of a feral child was in 1970, in California. A girl whom therapists came to call Genie had been strapped to a potty chair until she was 13. Like the Wild Boy, Genie was studied in hospitals and laboratories. She was in her 20s when doctors realized she'd never talk, never be able to take care of herself. She ended up in foster care, closed off from the world, utterly dependent.

Danielle's case — which unfolded out of the public spotlight, without a word in the media — raised disturbing questions for everyone trying to help her. How could this have happened? What kind of mother would sit by year after year while her daughter languished in her own filth, starving and crawling with bugs?

And why hadn't someone intervened? The neighbors, the authorities — where had they been?

"It's mind-boggling that in the 21st century we can still have a child who's just left in a room like a gerbil," said Tracy Sheehan, Danielle's guardian in the legal system and now a circuit court judge. "No food. No one talking to her or reading her a story. She can't even use her hands. How could this child be so invisible?"

But the most pressing questions were about her future.

When Danielle was discovered, she was younger by six years than the Wild Boy or Genie, giving hope that she might yet be teachable. Many of her caregivers had high hopes they could make her whole.

Danielle had probably missed the chance to learn speech, but maybe she could come to understand language, to communicate in other ways.

Still, doctors had only the most modest ambitions for her.

"My hope was that she would be able to sleep through the night, to be out of diapers and to feed herself," Armstrong said. If things went really well, she said, Danielle would end up "in a nice nursing home."

• • •

Danielle spent six weeks at Tampa General before she was well enough to leave. But where could she go? Not home; Judge Martha Cook, who oversaw her dependency hearing, ordered that Danielle be placed in foster care and that her mother not be allowed to call or visit her. The mother was being investigated on criminal child abuse charges.

"That child, she broke my heart," Cook said later. "We were so distraught over her condition, we agonized over what to do."

Eventually, Danielle was placed in a group home in Land O'Lakes. She had a bed with sheets and a pillow, clothes and food, and someone at least to change her diapers.

In October 2005, a couple of weeks after she turned 7, Danielle started school for the first time. She was placed in a special ed class at Sanders Elementary.

"Her behavior was different than any child I'd ever seen," said Kevin O'Keefe, Danielle's first teacher. "If you put food anywhere near her, she'd grab it" and mouth it like a baby, he said. "She had a lot of episodes of great agitation, yelling, flailing her arms, rolling into a fetal position. She'd curl up in a closet, just to be away from everyone. She didn't know how to climb a slide or swing on a swing. She didn't want to be touched."

It took her a year just to become consolable, he said.

By Thanksgiving 2006 — a year and a half after Danielle had gone into foster care — her caseworker was thinking about finding her a permanent home.

A nursing home, group home or medical foster care facility could take care of Danielle. But she needed more.

"In my entire career with the child welfare system, I don't ever remember a child like Danielle," said Luanne Panacek, executive director of the Children's Board of Hillsborough County. "It makes you think about what does quality of life mean? What's the best we can hope for her? After all she's been through, is it just being safe?"

That fall, Panacek decided to include Danielle in the Heart Gallery — a set of portraits depicting children available for adoption. The Children's Board displays the pictures in malls and on the Internet in hopes that people will fall in love with the children and take them home.

In Hillsborough alone, 600 kids are available for adoption. Who, Panacek wondered, would choose an 8-year-old who was still in diapers, who didn't know her own name and might not ever speak or let you hug her?

• • •

The day Danielle was supposed to have her picture taken for the Heart Gallery, she showed up with red Kool-Aid dribbled down her new blouse. She hadn't yet mastered a sippy cup.

Garet White, Danielle's care manager, scrubbed the girl's shirt and washed her face. She brushed Danielle's bangs from her forehead and begged the photographer to please be patient.

White stepped behind the photographer and waved at Danielle. She put her thumbs in her ears and wiggled her hands, stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes. Danielle didn't even blink.

White was about to give up when she heard a sound she'd never heard from Danielle. The child's eyes were still dull, apparently unseeing. But her mouth was open. She looked like she was trying to laugh.

Click.

Part Two: Becoming Dani

Teenagers tore through the arcade, firing fake rifles. Sweaty boys hunched over air hockey tables. Girls squealed as they stomped on blinking squares.

Bernie and Diane Lierow remember standing silently inside GameWorks in Tampa, overwhelmed. They had driven three hours from their home in Fort Myers Beach, hoping to meet a child at this foster care event.

But all these kids seemed too wild, too big and, well, too worldly.

Bernie, 48, remodels houses. Diane, 45, cleans homes. They have four grown sons from previous marriages and one together. Diane couldn't have any more children, and Bernie had always wanted a daughter. So last year, when William was 9, they decided to adopt.

Their new daughter would have to be younger than William, they told foster workers. But she would have to be potty-trained and able to feed herself. They didn't want a child who might hurt their son, or who was profoundly disabled and unable to take care of herself.

On the Internet they had found a girl in Texas, another in Georgia. Each time they were told, "That one is dangerous. She can't be with other children."

That's why they were at this Heart Gallery gathering, scanning the crowd.

Bernie's head ached from all the jangling games; Diane's stomach hurt, seeing all the abandoned kids; and William was tired of shooting aliens.

Diane stepped out of the chaos, into an alcove beneath the stairs. That was when she saw it. A little girl's face on a flier, pale with sunken cheeks and dark hair chopped too short. Her brown eyes seemed to be searching for something.

Diane called Bernie over. He saw the same thing she did. "She just looked like she needed us."

• • •

Bernie and Diane are humble, unpretentious people who would rather picnic on their deck than eat out. They go to work, go to church, visit with their neighbors, walk their dogs. They don't travel or pursue exotic interests; a vacation for them is hanging out at home with the family. Shy and soft-spoken, they're both slow to anger and, they say, seldom argue.

They had everything they ever wanted, they said. Except for a daughter.

But the more they asked about Danielle, the more they didn't want to know.

She was 8, but functioned as a 2-year-old. She had been left alone in a dank room, ignored for most of her life.

No, she wasn't there at the video arcade; she was in a group home. She wore diapers, couldn't feed herself, couldn't talk. After more than a year in school, she still wouldn't make eye contact or play with other kids.

No one knew, really, what was wrong with her, or what she might be capable of.

"She was everything we didn't want," Bernie said.

But they couldn't forget those aching eyes.

• • •

When they met Danielle at her school, she was drooling. Her tongue hung from her mouth. Her head, which seemed too big for her thin neck, lolled side to side.

She looked at them for an instant, then loped away across the special ed classroom. She rolled onto her back, rocked for a while, then batted at her toes.

Diane walked over and spoke to her softly. Danielle didn't seem to notice. But when Bernie bent down, Danielle turned toward him and her eyes seemed to focus.

He held out his hand. She let him pull her to her feet. Danielle's teacher, Kevin O'Keefe, was amazed; he hadn't seen her warm up to anyone so quickly.

Bernie led Danielle to the playground, she pulling sideways and prancing on her tiptoes. She squinted in the sunlight but let him push her gently on the swing. When it was time for them to part, Bernie swore he saw Danielle wave.

That night, he had a dream. Two giant hands slid through his bedroom ceiling, the fingers laced together. Danielle was swinging on those hands, her dark eyes wide, thin arms reaching for him.

• • •

Everyone told them not to do it, neighbors, co-workers, friends. Everyone said they didn't know what they were getting into.

So what if Danielle is not everything we hoped for? Bernie and Diane answered. You can't pre-order your own kids. You take what God gives you.

They brought her home on Easter weekend 2007. It was supposed to be a rebirth, of sorts — a baptism into their family.

"It was a disaster," Bernie said.

They gave her a doll; she bit off its hands. They took her to the beach; she screamed and wouldn't put her feet in the sand. Back at her new home, she tore from room to room, her swim diaper spewing streams across the carpet.

She couldn't peel the wrapper from a chocolate egg, so she ate the shiny paper too. She couldn't sit still to watch TV or look at a book. She couldn't hold a crayon. When they tried to brush her teeth or comb her hair, she kicked and thrashed. She wouldn't lie in a bed, wouldn't go to sleep, just rolled on her back, side to side, for hours.

All night she kept popping up, creeping sideways on her toes into the kitchen. She would pull out the frozen food drawer and stand on the bags of vegetables so she could see into the refrigerator.

"She wouldn't take anything," Bernie said. "I guess she wanted to make sure the food was still there."

When Bernie tried to guide her back to bed, Danielle railed against him and bit her own hands.

In time, Danielle's new family learned what worked and what didn't. Her foster family had been giving her anti-psychotic drugs to mitigate her temper tantrums and help her sleep. When Bernie and Diane weaned her off the medication, she stopped drooling and started holding up her head. She let Bernie brush her teeth.

• • •

Bernie and Diane already thought of Danielle as their daughter, but legally she wasn't. Danielle's birth mother did not want to give her up even though she had been charged with child abuse and faced 20 years in prison. So prosecutors offered a deal: If she waived her parental rights, they wouldn't send her to jail.

She took the plea. She was given two years of house arrest, plus probation. And 100 hours of community service.

In October 2007, Bernie and Diane officially adopted Danielle. They call her Dani.

• • •

"Okay, let's put your shoes on. Do you need to go potty again?" Diane asks.

It's an overcast Monday morning in spring 2008 and Dani is late for school. Again. She keeps flitting around the living room, ducking behind chairs and sofas, pulling at her shorts.

After a year with her new family, Dani scarcely resembles the girl in the Heart Gallery photo. She has grown a foot and her weight has doubled.

All those years she was kept inside, her hair was as dark as the dirty room she lived in. But since she started going to the beach and swimming in their backyard pool, Dani's shoulder-length hair has turned a golden blond. She still shrieks when anyone tries to brush it.

The changes in her behavior are subtle, but Bernie and Diane see progress. They give an example: When Dani feels overwhelmed she retreats to her room, rolls onto her back, pulls one sock toward the end of her toes and bats it. For hours. Bernie and Diane tell her to stop.

Now, when Dani hears them coming, she peels off her sock and throws it into the closet to hide it.

She's learning right from wrong, they say. And she seems upset when she knows she has disappointed them. As if she cares how they feel.

Bernie and Diane were told to put Dani in school with profoundly disabled children, but they insisted on different classes because they believe she can do more. They take her to occupational and physical therapy, to church and the mall and the grocery store. They have her in speech classes and horseback riding lessons.

Once, when Dani was trying to climb onto her horse, the mother of a boy in the therapeutic class turned to Diane.

"You're so lucky," Diane remembers the woman saying.

"Lucky?" Diane asked.

The woman nodded. "I know my son will never stand on his own, will never be able to climb onto a horse. You have no idea what your daughter might be able to do."

Diane finds hope in that idea. She counts small steps to convince herself things are slowly improving. So what if Dani steals food off other people's trays at McDonald's? At least she can feed herself chicken nuggets now. So what if she already has been to the bathroom four times this morning? She's finally out of diapers.

It took months, but they taught her to hold a stuffed teddy on the toilet so she wouldn't be scared to be alone in the bathroom. They bribed her with M&M's.

"Dani, sit down and try to use the potty," Diane coaxes. "Pull down your shorts. That's a good girl."

• • •

Every weekday, for half an hour, speech therapist Leslie Goldenberg tries to teach Dani to talk. She sits her in front of a mirror at a Bonita Springs elementary school and shows her how to purse her lips to make puffing sounds.

"Puh-puh-puh," says the teacher. "Here, feel my mouth." She brings Dani's fingers to her lips, so she can feel the air.

Dani nods. She knows how to nod now. Goldenberg puffs again.

Leaning close to the mirror, Dani purses her lips, opens and closes them. No sound comes out. She can imitate the movement, but doesn't know she has to blow out air to make the noise.

She bends closer, scowls at her reflection. Her lips open and close again, then she leaps up and runs across the room. She grabs a Koosh ball and bounces it rapidly.

She's lost inside herself. Again.

But in many ways, Dani already has surpassed the teacher's expectations, and not just in terms of speech. She seems to be learning to listen, and she understands simple commands. She pulls at her pants to show she needs to go to the bathroom, taps a juice box when she wants more. She can sit at a table for five-minute stretches, and she's starting to scoop applesauce with a spoon. She's down to just a few temper tantrums a month. She is learning to push buttons on a speaking board, to use symbols to show when she wants a book or when she's angry. She's learning it's okay to be angry: You can deal with those feelings without biting your own hands.

"I'd like her to at least be able to master a sound board, so she can communicate her choices even if she never finds her voice," Goldenberg says. "I think she understands most of what we say. It's just that she doesn't always know how to — or want to — react."

Dani's teacher and family have heard her say only a few words, and all of them seemed accidental. Once she blurted "baaa," startling Goldenberg to tears. It was the first letter sound she had ever made.

She seems to talk most often when William is tickling her, as if something from her subconscious seeps out when she's too distracted to shut it off. Her brother has heard her say, "Stop!" and "No!" He thought he even heard her say his name.

Having a brother just one year older is invaluable for Dani's development, her teacher says. She has someone to practice language with, someone who will listen. "Even deaf infants will coo," Goldenberg said. "But if no one responds, they stop."

• • •

William says Dani frightened him at first. "She did weird things." But he always wanted someone to play with. He doesn't care that she can't ride bikes with him or play Monopoly. "I drive her around in my Jeep and she honks the horn," he says. "She's learning to match up cards and stuff."

He couldn't believe she had never walked a dog or licked an ice cream cone. He taught her how to play peek-a-boo, helped her squish Play-Doh through her fingers. He showed her it was safe to walk on sand and fun to blow bubbles and okay to cry; when you hurt, someone comes. He taught her how to open a present. How to pick up tater tots and dunk them into a mountain of ketchup.

William was used to living like an only child, but since Dani has moved in, she gets most of their parents' attention. "She needs them more than me," he says simply.

He gave her his old toys, his "kid movies," his board books. He even moved out of his bedroom so she could sleep upstairs. His parents painted his old walls pink and filled the closet with cotton-candy dresses.

They moved a daybed into the laundry room for William, squeezed it between the washing machine and Dani's rocking horse. Each night, the 10-year-old boy cuddles up with a walkie-talkie because "it's scary down here, all alone."

After a few minutes, while his parents are trying to get Dani to bed, William always sneaks into the living room and folds himself into the love seat.

He trades his walkie-talkie for a small stuffed Dalmatian and calls down the hall, "Good night, Mom and Dad. Good night, Dani."

Some day, he's sure, she will answer.

• • •

Even now, Dani won't sleep in a bed.

Bernie bought her a new trundle so she can slide out the bottom bunk and be at floor level. Diane found pink Hello Kitty sheets and a stuffed glow worm so Dani will never again be alone in the dark.

"You got your wormie? You ready to go to sleep?" Bernie asks, bending to pick up his daughter. She's turning slow circles beneath the window, holding her worm by his tail. Bernie lifts her to the glass and shows her the sun, slipping behind the neighbor's house.

He hopes, one day, she might be able to call him "Daddy," to get married or at least live on her own. But if that doesn't happen, he says, "That's okay too. For me, it's all about getting the kisses and the hugs."

For now, Bernie and Diane are content to give Dani what she never had before: comfort and stability, attention and affection. A trundle, a glow worm.

Now Bernie tips Dani into bed, smooths her golden hair across the pillow. "Night-night," he says, kissing her forehead.

"Good night, honey," Diane calls from the doorway.

Bernie lowers the shade. As he walks past Dani, she reaches out and grabs his ankles.

Part Three: The Mother

She's out there somewhere, looming over Danielle's story like a ghost. To Bernie and Diane, Danielle's birth mother is a cipher, almost never spoken of. The less said, the better. As far as they are concerned Danielle was born the day they found her. And yet this unimaginable woman is out there somewhere, most likely still on probation, permanently unburdened of her daughter, and thinking — what? What can she possibly say? Nothing. Not a thing. But none of this makes any sense without her.

Michelle Crockett lives in a mobile home in Plant City with her two 20-something sons, three cats and a closet full of kittens. The trailer is just down the road from the little house where she lived with Danielle.

On a steamy afternoon a few weeks ago, Michelle opens the door wearing a long T-shirt. When she sees two strangers, she ducks inside and pulls on a housecoat. She's tall and stout, with broad shoulders and the sallow skin of a smoker. She looks tired, older than her 51 years.

"My daughter?" she asks. "You want to talk about my daughter?" Her voice catches. Tears pool in her glasses.

The inside of the trailer is modest but clean: dishes drying on the counter, silk flowers on the table. Sitting in her kitchen, chain-smoking 305s, she starts at the end: the day the detective took Danielle.

"Part of me died that day," she says.

• • •

Michelle says she was a student at the University of Tampa when she met a man named Bernie at a bar. It was 1976. He was a Vietnam vet, 10 years her senior. They got married and moved to Las Vegas, where he drove a taxi.

Right away they had two sons, Bernard and Grant. The younger boy wasn't potty-trained until he was 4, didn't talk until he was 5. "He was sort of slow," Michelle says. In school, they put him in special ed.

Her sons were teenagers when her husband got sick. Agent Orange, the doctors said. When he died in August 1997, Michelle filed for bankruptcy.

Six months later, she met a man in a casino. He was in Vegas on business. She went back to his hotel room with him.

"His name was Ron," she says. She shakes her head. "No, it was Bob. I think it was Bob."

• • •

For hours Michelle Crockett spins out her story, tapping ashes into a plastic ashtray. Everything she says sounds like a plea, but for what? Understanding? Sympathy? She doesn't apologize. Far from it. She feels wronged.

Danielle, she says, was born in a hospital in Las Vegas, a healthy baby who weighed 7 pounds, 6 ounces. Her Apgar score measuring her health was a 9, nearly perfect.

"She screamed a lot," Michelle says. "I just thought she was spoiled."

When Danielle was 18 months old, Michelle's mobile home burned down, so she loaded her two sons and baby daughter onto a Greyhound bus and headed to Florida, to bunk with a cousin.

They lost their suitcases along the way, she says. The cousin couldn't take the kids. After a week, Michelle moved into a Brandon apartment with no furniture, no clothes, no dishes. She got hired as a cashier at Publix. But it was okay: “The boys were with her,” she says. She says she has the paperwork to prove it.

• • •

She goes to the boys’ bathroom, returns with a box full of documents and hands it over.

The earliest documents are from Feb. 11, 2002. That was when someone called the child abuse hotline on her. The caller reported that a child, about 3, was “left unattended for days with a retarded older brother, never seen wearing anything but a diaper.”

This is Michelle’s proof that her sons were watching Danielle.

The caller continued:

“The home is filthy. There are clothes everywhere. There are feces on the child’s seat and the counter is covered with trash.”

It’s not clear what investigators found at the house, but they left Danielle with her mother that day.

Nine months later, another call to authorities. A person who knew Michelle from the Moose Lodge said she was always there playing bingo with her new boyfriend, leaving her children alone overnight.

“Not fit to be a mother,” the caller said.

The hotline operator took these notes: The 4-year-old girl “is still wearing a diaper and drinking from a baby bottle. On-going situation, worse since last August. Mom leaves Grant and Danielle at home for several days in a row while she goes to work and spends the night with a new paramour. Danielle . . . is never seen outside the home.”

Again the child abuse investigators went out. They offered Michelle free day care for Danielle. She refused. And they left Danielle there.

Why? Didn’t they worry about two separate calls to the hotline, months apart, citing the same concerns?

“It’s not automatic that because the home is dirty we’d remove the child,” said Nick Cox, regional director of the Florida Department of Children and Families. “And what they found in 2002 was not like the scene they walked into in 2005.”

The aim, he said, is to keep the child with the parent, and try to help the parent get whatever services he or she might need. But Michelle refused help. And investigators might have felt they didn’t have enough evidence to take Danielle, Cox said.

“I’m concerned, though, that no effort was made to interview the child,” he said.

“If you have a 4-year-old who is unable to speak, that would raise a red flag to me. “I’m not going to tell you this was okay. I don’t know how it could have happened.”

• • •

Michelle insists Danielle was fine.

“I tried to potty-train her, she wouldn’t train. I tried to get her into schools, no one would take her,” she says in the kitchen of her trailer. The only thing she ever noticed was wrong, she says, “was that she didn’t speak much. She talked in a soft tone. She’d say, ‘Let’s go eat.’ But no one could hear her except me.”

She says she took Danielle to the library and the park. “I took her out for pizza. Once.” But she can’t remember which library, which park or where they went for pizza.

“She liked this song I’d sing her,” Michelle says. “Miss Polly had a dolly, she was sick, sick, sick . . .”

Michelle’s older son, Bernard, told a judge that he once asked his mom why she never took Danielle to the doctor. Something’s wrong with her, he remembered telling her. He said she answered, “If they see her, they might take her away.”

• • •

A few months after the second abuse call, Michelle and her kids moved in with her boyfriend in the rundown rental house in Plant City. The day the cops came, Michelle says, she didn’t know what was wrong.

The detective found Danielle in the back, sleeping. The only window in the small space was broken. Michelle had tacked a blanket across the shattered glass, but flies and beetles and roaches had crept in anyway.

“My house was a mess,” she says. “I’d been sick and it got away from me. But I never knew a dirty house was against the law.”

The cop walked past her, carrying Danielle.

“He said she was starving. I told him me and my sisters were all skinny till we were 13.

“I begged him, ‘Please, don’t take my baby! Please!’ ”

She says she put socks on her daughter before he took her to the car, but couldn’t find any shoes.

• • •

A judge ordered Michelle to have a psychological evaluation. That’s among the documents, too.

Danielle’s IQ, the report says, is below 50, indicating “severe mental retardation.” Michelle’s is 77, “borderline range of intellectual ability.”

“She tended to blame her difficulties on circumstances while rationalizing her own actions,” wrote psychologist Richard Enrico Spana. She “is more concerned with herself than most other adults, and this could lead her to neglect paying adequate attention to people around her.”

She wanted to fight for her daughter, she says, but didn’t want to go to jail and didn’t have enough money for a lawyer.

“I tried to get people to help me,” Michelle says. “They say I made her autistic. But how do you make a kid autistic? They say I didn’t put clothes on her — but she just tore them off.”

After Danielle was taken away, Michelle says, she tripped over a box at Wal-Mart and got in a car accident and couldn’t work anymore. In February, she went back to court and a judge waived her community service hours.

She’s on probation until 2012.

She spends her days with her sons, doing crossword puzzles and watching movies. Sometimes they talk about Danielle.

• • •

When Danielle was in the hospital, Michelle says, she and her sons sneaked in to see her. Michelle took a picture from the file: Danielle, drowning in a hospital gown, slumped in a bed that folded into a wheelchair.

“That’s the last picture I have of her,” Michelle says. In her kitchen, she snubs out her cigarette. She crosses to the living room, where Danielle’s image looks down from the wall.

She reaches up and, with her finger, traces her daughter’s face. “When I moved here,” she says, “that was the first thing I hung.”

She says she misses Danielle.

“Have you seen her?” Michelle asks. “Is she okay?”

• • •

Is she okay?

Danielle is better than anyone dared hope. She has learned to look at people and let herself be held. She can chew ham. She can swim. She’s tall and blond and has a little belly. She knows her name is Dani.

In her new room, she has a window she can look out of. When she wants to see outside, all she has to do is raise her arms and her dad is right behind her, waiting to pick her up.

Help a child

• If you think a child is being neglected or abused, call the anonymous toll-free hotline:
1-800-962-2873.

• If you need help taking care of your child, call the Crisis Center of Tampa Bay: (813) 234-1234.

• For information on adoption in Hillsborough County: (813) 229-2884; www.HeartGallery
TampaBay.org.

• In Pinellas/Pasco: (727) 456-0637; www.HeartGalleryKids.org.

• If you can't adopt, but want to help foster children in Pinellas or Pasco: (727) 824-0863; www.projectpatchwork.org.

• In Hillsborough: (813) 651-3150; sylviathomascenter.org.

About this story

St. Petersburg Times reporter Lane DeGregory and Times photographer Melissa Lyttle met Danielle and her new family at their home in February. All of the scenes at their house and in speech therapy were witnessed by the journalists.

The opening scene and others were reconstructed from interviews with neighbors, the detective, Danielle's care manager, psychologist, teacher, legal guardian and the judge on her case. Additional information came from hundreds of pages of police reports, medical records and court documents.

Michelle Crockett was interviewed at home in Plant City.

In June, Danielle's new parents sold their Florida home and moved out of state. Bernie built Dani a treehouse. Last week, she began summer school.

Times researcher Caryn Baird contributed to this report. Lane DeGregory can be reached at (727) 893-8825 or degregory@sptimes.com.

Written by Brad Schrade, The Tennessean

The identities of most of the 182 people whose backgrounds were improperly checked by an ousted state patrol officer were revealed Friday night by the Tennessee Department of Safety.

The list released to The Tennessean contained the names and counties of residence of 154 people who Lt. Ronnie Shirley ran through a state criminal justice computer database.

The release came five months after Safety Commissioner Dave Mitchell fired Shirley amid mounting pressure on Gov. Phil Bredesen's administration to do something about the trooper. The department had resisted releasing the names since the scandal broke in August, citing a criminal investigation.

Shirley is the politically connected officer who helped fix a speeding ticket in 2004 for Bredesen's then-right hand aide, Deputy Gov. Dave Cooley. The patrol leadership at the time concocted a fake punishment for Shirley to throw off the press and public.

Mitchell was not available for comment Friday night, but in a letter attached to the list he said any suggestion that Shirley would get a break is wrong. It's been widely speculated within the patrol that Shirley will get his job back.

"I terminated Shirley based upon the facts provided to me from this investigation," Mitchell's letter said. "His violation of the public trust is unacceptable for a Tennessee State Trooper. As long as I am the Commissioner of Safety, I have no intention of rehiring Ronnie Shirley."

Davidson County District Attorney Torry Johnson cleared Shirley of any criminal wrongdoing earlier this week. That set up the release of the list Friday.

The list released by the department withheld 28 identities, citing federal driver's license protection laws that made the information privileged.

It was heavy with the names of women whose information Shirley checked through a state criminal justice computer database. Most of the checks appear to have been of driver's license information, which includes photos, addresses and other personal information. Many of the women appeared to be from Middle Tennessee. Names on the list included an entertainer, a THP lieutenant and his wife, and two journalists.

Bredesen press secretary Lydia Lenker did not respond before deadline Friday night to an e-mail request seeking an interview with the governor.

The Shirley scandal was the most recent to rock the highway patrol, which has been a consistent source of public embarrassment during Bredesen's time in office. His appointed patrol leadership stepped down in 2005 amid a series of scandals, including allegations of political favoritism and campaign contributions preceding promotions within the patrol, a longstanding agency practice.

Hearing set for Shirley

Bredesen vowed then to clean up the department, but a subsequent series of scandals have raised questions about whether much has changed.

Mitchell's letter said Shirley has no political pull in the department.

"Shirley was treated like any other employee who violated departmental policies," the letter said. Shirley has a final civil service appeal hearing scheduled for late March. An administrative law judge will determine whether he gets his job back.

The Tennessean decided not to publicize the list for now until it could further contact some of the individuals on the list who were victims of the unauthorized searches.

Brad Schrade can be reached at 615-259-8086 or bschrade@tennessean.com.

Lt. Ronnie Shirley

Most targets of trooper's snooping identified

Washington State Senate
Sen. Pam Roach

For immediate release
January 15, 2009 
For interviews contact:
Sen. Pam Roach (360) 786-7660

Senator Pam Roach to call for DSHS Accountability at February 5 Rally
10:00 AM PRESS CONFERENCE TO PRECEDE RALLY, CHERBERG BUILDING CONFERENCE ROOM ABC
Auburn…Sen. Pam Roach (R-rural Auburn) has announced her Families' First rally at the Capitol Rotunda in Olympia on February 5, 2009 at 12:00 noon. 
The subject will be the need for justice and accountability within DSHS Child Protective Services.
Roach believes CPS is out of control, and she is giving voice to the thousands of children and relatives hurt by the department.
Roach led the successful 11 month effort to return the granddaughter of Doug and Anne Marie Stuth to their Enumclaw home. (Please see: KING 5 [Stuth stories at King 5]
"It is time the citizens of Washington stand up against the atrocities of this department," said Roach. "We expect hundreds, if not thousands, of people will join their voices to publicly be heard by the Legislature and Governor."
Washington Families United, Grandparent' s Rights of Washington, legislators, and citizens demanding accountability will be in attendance. 
"Of the Stuths," Roach said, "we have become family after our year-long struggle. These are good people who fought and won. So many others have had their children stolen."
"Doug and AnneMarie Stuth, the Enumclaw couple recently awarded third party custody of their grandchild, will be in attendance," Roach said. 
"Their horrific story shows just how intent CPS has been to separate good families from their children," said Roach. "On the other hand, they often leave children in harm's way." 
"Just one month ago, between Christmas and New Year's, two infants returned to their respective homes, died by shaken baby syndrome," said Roach. "This is absolutely atrocious." 
"The rally is intended to give hope to the thousands of families injured by the negligence of CPS," Roach added.
"As in other cases, the Stuths have been terribly hurt by the system," said Roach. "They deserve vindication for all the untruths told in court and should be compensated for the $50,000 they spent trying to get their granddaughter back."
"It is not a coincidence that both DSHS Secretary, Robin Arnold-Williams, and CPS Director, Cheryl Stephani, announced their departure from the department just three weeks ago, and two weeks prior to a scathing report on CPS practices they knew would be released by the State Ombudsman," Roach added. "Out of the hot seat, but not out of the fire." 
"The leadership in the department has not addressed accountability within the system," Roach said. 
"I will be proposing legislation to break DSHS into smaller agencies to increase accountability and efficiency," added Roach. "Another piece of legislation includes creating a Citizens Review Committee of CPS.

For more information contact Senator Pam Roach at (360) 786-7660 or via e-mail at Roach.pam@leg. wa.gov She may be reached at her home office (253) 735-4210.
PAMROACHREPORT. BLOGSPOT. COM OUTLINES THE STUTH CASE IN DETAIL

http://familyrights. us / news / archive / 2009 / jan / pam_roach_to_ call_for_ dshs.html

[FamilyCourtReformers] Reminder for the Feb 5, 2009 Washington Rally with Senator Pam Roach - Inbox - Yahoo! Mail

Copyright 2009. Incisive Media US Properties, LLC. All rights reserved. National Law Journal Online
Page printed from: http://www.nlj.com
Back to Article

http://www.law.com/jsp/nlj/PubArticlePrinterFriendlyNLJ.jsp?id=1202427531683

Some groups have opposed exposure of this problem claiming that
the information is politically motivated or constitutes
"father-bashing." Our analysis indicates that the problem of abusers or
batterers obtaining custody is widespread and well documented by
research. Presenting this information is not an attempt to "bash"
any particular group, but is offered simply to educate professionals
about the extent of this serious problem affecting child safety.

Societal acceptance of these myths assists perpetrators of family
violence by giving them custody of their victims and by encouraging
public denial about the failure of the legal system to protect these
children. The Leadership Council prepared this analysis because we
believe that society as a whole benefits when the public has access to
accurate information regarding child abuse and other forms of
interpersonal violence.

For a copy of this article as it originally appeared in the Sexual Assault Report, click here  (pdf)

to finish this interesting article

http://stopfamilyviolence.org/ocean/host.php?folder=107&page=248

Powered by ScribeFire.

Cara Matthews
Albany Bureau

ALBANY - Chief Judge Judith Kaye said yesterday the court system has improved facilities and implemented programs to help the public better navigate the system, but it needs more Family Court judges, improved municipal courts and more legal representation for the poor.

New filings in Family Court exceeded 700,000 in 2007 and are expected to top 728,000 this year, Kaye said. That court has 149 full-time judges who handle more than two million appearances a year, she said.

"I personally have never before seen such burdens placed on Family Court, emotional burdens and calendar burdens, typically necessitating long court days and long court delays - delays that are in child time an eternity. No fair to the litigants, no fair to the courts," said Kaye, who gave her final State of the Judiciary address after 15 years as the state's first woman chief judge.

"So first and foremost, even in these difficult days, we must renew our request for more Family Court judges, especially for New York City," she said, referencing the state's fiscal crisis.

Kaye, who spoke at New York University in Manhattan, said she was saddened because she would not achieve one of her major objectives. The 70-year-old Kaye must leave office Dec. 31 because of her age. She has sought pay hikes for judges, but state lawmakers have not taken up the cause. Kaye, who earns $156,000 a year, filed a lawsuit against the state on the issue. The case is pending. State Supreme Court judges make about $136,000 annually.

"It is heartbreaking, frustrating and demoralizing beyond description that our judiciary ... should have its compensation frozen for more than a decade, despite our persistent efforts with three successive governors and legislators who have acknowledged that the judges should have the increases they seek," said Kaye, the state's longest-serving chief judge.

http://www.lohud.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20081113/NEWS05/811130525&template=printart

Badges & Widgets - Family Court Reform

The voluntary change in advice to parents comes less than a week after federal health officials
said they also saw little evidence that the drugs work. But government
officials were afraid that taking the medicines off store shelves might
prompt parents to give their children adult medicines.

The drug makers said they will also add a warning that parents
should not give antihistamines to children to make them sleepy. These
are allergy-relief medications often found in medicines that combine
several ingredients to treat a variety of symptoms.

The new measures "reflect industry's overall commitment to the
continued safe and appropriate use of children's oral OTC cough and
cold medicines," Linda Suydam, president of the Consumer Healthcare
Products Association, said in announcing the changes on behalf of the
companies.

"We are doing this voluntarily out of an abundance of caution," she
added. The new instructions will appear on products distributed for the
coming cold season. Last year, the companies pulled medicines for
babies and tots under 2 from the market.

Pediatricians, who have been calling for a ban on OTC cough and cold
remedies for children under 6, welcomed the industry's latest shift.

"It's a huge step forward," said Dr. Joshua Sharfstein, Baltimore's
health commissioner. "There is no evidence that these products work in
kids, and there is definitely evidence of serious side effects."

Problems with OTC cough and cold medicines send some 7,000 children
to hospital emergency rooms each year, with symptoms including hives,
drowsiness and unsteady walking. Many kids overdose by taking medicines
when their parents aren't looking.

Since a majority of the problems involve 2- to 3-year-olds, the
industry's new instructions, if followed by parents, should help.

"The 2- and 3-year-olds are definitely the highest risk," said
Sharfstein. "More than 50 percent of the problem is with these kids.
"If they don't have this stuff around the home, they're less likely to
grab it and ingest it."

Pediatricians still support recalling the medicines for children under 6, and the Food and Drug Administration is studying their effectiveness for children under 12. But federal health officials said at a public hearing last week that it could take them a year or more to make a final decision and order changes.

Leading cough and cold brands include Dimetapp, Pediacare,
Robitussin, Triaminic, Little Colds and versions of Tylenol that have
ingredients to treat cold symptoms. U.S. families spend at least $287
million a year on cold remedies for kids, according to Nielsen Co.
statistics that do not include Wal-Mart sales.

The industry also said it is expanding an educational campaign aimed
at getting parents to be more careful about giving their kids cough and
cold medicines.

Parents should never:

_Give adult medicines to a child.

_Give two or more medicines with the same ingredients at the same time.

_Give antihistamines to make a child sleepy.

Parents should:

_Give the exact recommended dose, using the measuring device that comes with the medicine.

_Keep OTC medicines out of sight and out of reach.

_Consult their doctor if they have any questions.

Colds usually clear up by themselves after a few days, and many doctors
say rest and drinking plenty of fluids are all that's needed.

___

On the Net:

Consumer Healthcare Products Association statement: http://tinyurl.com/4bzj2f

9:56 PM http://www.thepetitionsite.com/5/in-support-of-lisa-and-bella-smith-2
This petition is in support of returning Bella Smith, to her mother, Lisa Smith. Where she legally belongs. Children can not be stolen from their homes with out trials and proof of real harm.
Bella was removed from her home without probable cause or a warrant. There were no reports of harm against the mother. Bella was taken by a Knox County Juvenile Case Manager, Stacey Turpin. Ms. Turpin said she had a warrant and did not. She removed the child out of anger. Once the child was removed, she was given to an abusive, violent father, who had been out of Bella's life, by his choice for more than a year. The father has committed several violent acts against the mother and other women, this is all documented in police records. The Juvenile Court has failed to provide the child with a safe environment. She has not had proper, continued medical attention or insurance. The father has testified in 3 Courts, under oath, that he does not give the child medicines prescribed by her Doctor. Yet, the Juvenile Court refuses to acknowledge this medical neglect. The guardian ad litem, Joseph Della-Rodolfa, never met or attempted to meet with Bella & Lisa. Yet he met with the father several times, he recommended to the court, Bella stay with him, based on absolutely nothing. GAL's are to ensure what's in the child's best interest. Not there own or what is most convenient for them. He has failed to protect Bella also, both physically and medically.
There must be due process, fair and equal treatment, and protection of Constitutional Rights, in children's cases. No one has attempted to reunite Bella with her Mother.
It sends a negative message to society and battered women, when the State chooses to prosecute women for rightfully protecting their children.
This child has been to Dr. and ER more than 42 in a year and a half, her bruises, marks, and scratches have all been documented and photographed. The child her self has stated several times, her "daddy whipped her butt, with the switch". No one has done anything to protect this child, and they have allowed the father to make continuous accusations and harass Ms. Smith's family. There has not even been an attempt to re unite Bella with her Mother.
We ask you, Judge Swann, the State of TN, the prosecutor, Leland Price, who seeks to punish Ms. Smith, to look at the facts and the law, to see the fraud that has been committed and correct it. TN has had a long, negative history in The Children's Services area, we ask that you not allow Bella to become another statistic.
Do not continue with this case, allow Ms. Smith to regain the rightful custody of Bella, and return her home, where she can be safe and loved, and most important, where she wants to be. Little girls need their Mothers.
Regards,

9:56 PM - http://www.thepetitionsite.com/5/in-support-of-lisa-and-bella-smith-2
This petition is in support of returning Bella Smith, to her mother, Lisa Smith. Where she legally belongs. Children can not be stolen from their homes with out trials and proof of real harm.
Bella was removed from her home without probable cause or a warrant. There were no reports of harm against the mother. Bella was taken by a Knox County Juvenile Case Manager, Stacey Turpin. Ms. Turpin said she had a warrant and did not. She removed the child out of anger. Once the child was removed, she was given to an abusive, violent father, who had been out of Bella's life, by his choice for more than a year. The father has committed several violent acts against the mother and other women, this is all documented in police records. The Juvenile Court has failed to provide the child with a safe environment. She has not had proper, continued medical attention or insurance. The father has testified in 3 Courts, under oath, that he does not give the child medicines prescribed by her Doctor. Yet, the Juvenile Court refuses to acknowledge this medical neglect. The guardian ad litem, Joseph Della-Rodolfa, never met or attempted to meet with Bella & Lisa. Yet he met with the father several times, he recommended to the court, Bella stay with him, based on absolutely nothing. GAL's are to ensure what's in the child's best interest. Not there own or what is most convenient for them. He has failed to protect Bella also, both physically and medically.
There must be due process, fair and equal treatment, and protection of Constitutional Rights, in children's cases. No one has attempted to reunite Bella with her Mother.
It sends a negative message to society and battered women, when the State chooses to prosecute women for rightfully protecting their children.
This child has been to Dr. and ER more than 42 in a year and a half, her bruises, marks, and scratches have all been documented and photographed. The child her self has stated several times, her "daddy whipped her butt, with the switch". No one has done anything to protect this child, and they have allowed the father to make continuous accusations and harass Ms. Smith's family. There has not even been an attempt to re unite Bella with her Mother.
We ask you, Judge Swann, the State of TN, the prosecutor, Leland Price, who seeks to punish Ms. Smith, to look at the facts and the law, to see the fraud that has been committed and correct it. TN has had a long, negative history in The Children's Services area, we ask that you not allow Bella to become another statistic.
Do not continue with this case, allow Ms. Smith to regain the rightful custody of Bella, and return her home, where she can be safe and loved, and most important, where she wants to be. Little girls need their Mothers.
Regards,

http://www.thepetitionsite.com/5/in-support-of-lisa-and-bella-smith-2
This petition is in support of returning Bella Smith, to her mother, Lisa Smith. Where she legally belongs.
Children can not be stolen from their homes with out trials and proof of real harm.
Bella was removed from her home without probable cause or a warrant. There were no reports of harm against the mother. Bella was taken by a Knox County Juvenile Case Manager, Stacey Turpin. Ms. Turpin said she had a warrant and did not. She removed the child out of anger. Once the child was removed, she was given to an abusive, violent father, who had been out of Bella's life, by his choice for more than a year. The father has committed several violent acts against the mother and other women, this is all documented in police records. The Juvenile Court has failed to provide the child with a safe environment. She has not had proper, continued medical attention or insurance. The father has testified in 3 Courts, under oath, that he does not give the child medicines prescribed by her Doctor. Yet, the Juvenile Court refuses to acknowledge this medical neglect. The guardian ad litem, Joseph Della-Rodolfa, never met or attempted to meet with Bella & Lisa. Yet he met with the father several times, he recommended to the court, Bella stay with him, based on absolutely nothing. GAL's are to ensure what's in the child's best interest. Not there own or what is most convenient for them. He has failed to protect Bella also, both physically and medically.
There must be due process, fair and equal treatment, and protection of Constitutional Rights, in children's cases. No one has attempted to reunite Bella with her Mother.
It sends a negative message to society and battered women, when the State chooses to prosecute women for rightfully protecting their children.
This child has been to Dr. and ER more than 42 in a year and a half, her bruises, marks, and scratches have all been documented and photographed. The child her self has stated several times, her "daddy whipped her butt, with the switch". No one has done anything to protect this child, and they have allowed the father to make continuous accusations and harass Ms. Smith's family.
We ask you, Judge Swann, the State of TN, the prosecutor, Leland Price, who seeks to punish Ms. Smith, to look at the facts and the law, to see the fraud that has been committed and correct it. TN has had a long, negative history in The Children's Services area, we ask that you not allow Bella to become another statistic.
Do not continue with this case, allow Ms. Smith to regain the rightful custody of Bella, and return her home, where she can be safe and loved, and most important, where she wants to be. Little girls need their Mothers.
Regards,

Thank you for clicking to help stop violence against
women! Violence is arguably the most egregious form of
inequality visited upon women and girls across the globe.
This year Amnesty International launched a two-year Stop
Violence Against Women Campaign. Amnesty will work in
local communities to help women at the grassroots level,
pressure governments to pass legal protections, and work
with the media to raise awareness about the issue.
But Amnesty needs your help to make this campaign succeed:
http://www.care2.com/go/z/noviolence
One out of every three women has been beaten, raped,
or abused in her lifetime. As women and men with the
ability to take action, we have a special opportunity -
and perhaps a responsibility - to be leaders in enacting
a new era in women's human rights. Please consider
donating today : http://www.care2.com/go/z/noviolence
Then, click to end violence against women today:
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urging them to take actions to prevent rape, domestic
abuse, war and other violent crimes committed against
women and girls worldwide.