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Re: final giveaway....
yes, he's with me, and all is well. basically what happened was that on 8/26/1993, my wife decided that she was done with me, took her daughter and my son and moved back to california (we were living in chicago at the time). however, she didn't tell me that she was planning on doing so. i simply came home from lunch to a note on the door and an empty apartment.
i called 911, they sent a cop out, and i learned that since we were still married, she could have taken him wherever she wanted to as long as she told me within 15 days. so...we (my mom and i) went to court immediately to file an emergency custody order and an order of protection. my stepdad went to the airport to try and find them. no luck.
so, i filed for divorce the next day, and waited by the phone for a call from my wife. to say that i was devastated is an understatement. i was glad that she was gone; the only reason that kept me from filing for divorce earlier was that most kids go to the mom in a divorce, and i couldn't be a part time dad. so i stayed put. after 15 days of no contact, the district attorney filed kidnapping charges against her, she was indicted by the grand jury, and i have to say that testifying before them was one of the scariest and surreal things i've done. i was a mess; 21 and torn to pieces. i couldn't eat, sleep, or do much else but drink myself to sleep on many an evening. i was still living in the "marital residence," and i tell you, it was haunted. so many times, i'd be sitting on the couch and i'd hear my son's voice, or i could swear i'd hear the little scrunchy sounds that diapers make when toddlers run in them. i spent many an evening with a bottle in one hand and a good sharp knife in another. any time i'd see kids his age, or parents out with their children, i'd constantly fight back tears.
anyway, since it was a multi state case, the fbi would up being involved, and they found her living in an apt in orange county, california. i got a phone call from my mom, who was kinda being the point of contact for me (as i was unable to function for the most part), and she told me that they found my son. this was the friday before thanksgiving. why it took someone three months to find them, i'll never know...the fbi ran her social, and whaddya know? they found her. a fair amount of this is blurred pain, so i'm sure there was a lot more to it than that...but i digress. the fbi said to get out to california as soon as possible, so late that saturday night/early sunday morning, we drove from chicago to anaheim in two days, getting there monday night, i believe. the whole drive out there, i kept thinking that even though they may have found him, it didn't necessarily mean that i could take him home with me. the custody order i had was from illinois; it didn't mean anything in california, or any other state. so it was kinda up to them whether or not i'd bring him home. sure, the kidnapping charges would put his mom in jail, but it didn't guarantee i'd bring my son home.
we checked into a hotel near disneyland, and i spoke to the agent helping us. the plan was the the fbi would storm her apt at six in the morning. so i tried to sleep that night, and woke up right around six. and i waited for a word. it was the longest three and a half hours i've spent in my life. the phone rang, and we were told they got my son, and thankfully when given the option of putting my son in a foster home or sending him with me while her kidnapping case went on, she chose to turn my son over to me. she totally had a say in the matter, which was frightening, to say the least.
i was scared that my son wouldn't remember me, as he was so young, so i brought some of the toys he and i played with, and when they took him out of the car, i barely recognized him; he was sick, and had lost weight. i thanked the agents, and followed their advice in getting the hell outta dodge. we drove that day and wound up stopping for the night somewhere in new mexico. all i remember was getting in bed, and laying with my son and crying instantly when he curled up into me and tried to throw his arm around me; he was too little, so his hand rested on the side of my neck, his arm fully extended.
i've had him all to myself since then. he's 11 now, and will be starting 6th grade in a few weeks. his mother dropped off the face of the earth, and hasn't been in contact for about 4 years now.
that's basically it.
sully
yes, he's with me, and all is well. basically what happened was that on 8/26/1993, my wife decided that she was done with me, took her daughter and my son and moved back to california (we were living in chicago at the time). however, she didn't tell me that she was planning on doing so. i simply came home from lunch to a note on the door and an empty apartment.
i called 911, they sent a cop out, and i learned that since we were still married, she could have taken him wherever she wanted to as long as she told me within 15 days. so...we (my mom and i) went to court immediately to file an emergency custody order and an order of protection. my stepdad went to the airport to try and find them. no luck.
so, i filed for divorce the next day, and waited by the phone for a call from my wife. to say that i was devastated is an understatement. i was glad that she was gone; the only reason that kept me from filing for divorce earlier was that most kids go to the mom in a divorce, and i couldn't be a part time dad. so i stayed put. after 15 days of no contact, the district attorney filed kidnapping charges against her, she was indicted by the grand jury, and i have to say that testifying before them was one of the scariest and surreal things i've done. i was a mess; 21 and torn to pieces. i couldn't eat, sleep, or do much else but drink myself to sleep on many an evening. i was still living in the "marital residence," and i tell you, it was haunted. so many times, i'd be sitting on the couch and i'd hear my son's voice, or i could swear i'd hear the little scrunchy sounds that diapers make when toddlers run in them. i spent many an evening with a bottle in one hand and a good sharp knife in another. any time i'd see kids his age, or parents out with their children, i'd constantly fight back tears.
anyway, since it was a multi state case, the fbi would up being involved, and they found her living in an apt in orange county, california. i got a phone call from my mom, who was kinda being the point of contact for me (as i was unable to function for the most part), and she told me that they found my son. this was the friday before thanksgiving. why it took someone three months to find them, i'll never know...the fbi ran her social, and whaddya know? they found her. a fair amount of this is blurred pain, so i'm sure there was a lot more to it than that...but i digress. the fbi said to get out to california as soon as possible, so late that saturday night/early sunday morning, we drove from chicago to anaheim in two days, getting there monday night, i believe. the whole drive out there, i kept thinking that even though they may have found him, it didn't necessarily mean that i could take him home with me. the custody order i had was from illinois; it didn't mean anything in california, or any other state. so it was kinda up to them whether or not i'd bring him home. sure, the kidnapping charges would put his mom in jail, but it didn't guarantee i'd bring my son home.
we checked into a hotel near disneyland, and i spoke to the agent helping us. the plan was the the fbi would storm her apt at six in the morning. so i tried to sleep that night, and woke up right around six. and i waited for a word. it was the longest three and a half hours i've spent in my life. the phone rang, and we were told they got my son, and thankfully when given the option of putting my son in a foster home or sending him with me while her kidnapping case went on, she chose to turn my son over to me. she totally had a say in the matter, which was frightening, to say the least.
i was scared that my son wouldn't remember me, as he was so young, so i brought some of the toys he and i played with, and when they took him out of the car, i barely recognized him; he was sick, and had lost weight. i thanked the agents, and followed their advice in getting the hell outta dodge. we drove that day and wound up stopping for the night somewhere in new mexico. all i remember was getting in bed, and laying with my son and crying instantly when he curled up into me and tried to throw his arm around me; he was too little, so his hand rested on the side of my neck, his arm fully extended.
i've had him all to myself since then. he's 11 now, and will be starting 6th grade in a few weeks. his mother dropped off the face of the earth, and hasn't been in contact for about 4 years now.
that's basically it.
sully
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