This is the true story (a recording of events) of how a child can be "taken" by a parent and "hidden" from the other parent for 48 days. This is the record of our thoughts, feelings and actions during these 48 days and beyond. Please keep in mind that this is OUR story and as such is colored by our feelings and thoughts.

"On April 5, 1995 I arrived home from work to find my bedroom furniture being carried out of my house by several of my husband's friends and loaded into the friends trucks. I went inside the house, into the bedroom and saw that my clothes had been put into boxes. My husband had followed me into the house, yelling and ranting at me. It crossed my mind to grab some of my clothes, but I then decided it might be safer to just leave. I walked back outside with my purse but my husband grabbed my purse before I could get the car keys. A moment or two later he sat my purse down. I picked up my purse, got into the car and again attempted to leave. My husband hit the car window with his fist, then kicked the car, breaking off the side-mirror with his foot. My pride and joy...a 1995 Mustang that I worked and saved for a year and a half in order to put a huge down payment on was being damaged! The car was brand new, only 3 months old, had all the options and didn't have a scratch on it.

I ran into the garage and called the police on the wall phone there. My husband was arrested on criminal damage charges and taken away. My son, Brian, was not in the house when I came home from work and I asked my husband where Brian was before he was taken to jail. He would not tell me. The "friends," under the direction of the police, had to unload their trucks and move the furniture back into the garage. I called the nursery school to see if Brian was there and found that he had been picked up by his father several hours before.

The next day was spent with the attorney, going to the courthouse for the criminal damages hearing, starting the paperwork for a divorce and attempting to locate Brian.

After five days I did find out that Brian was indeed with my husband's parents. Brian's dad had only spent one night in jail before his dad bailed him out, and he was evidently staying at his parent's tiny place with Brian. Brian had been with these grandparents while his dad was in jail and was indeed with them all this time.

During the next five days after my husband's arrest, my house was entered several times while I was at work. One day I came home to find Brian's sheets, blanket and pillow missing from his bed. Then Brian's bike -- a special Christmas present from his birth grandmother -- turned up missing out of the back yard. Yes, I said birth grandmother, but that is another story entirely. A few other minor things were also missing -- like the family pleasure boat. It was a beautiful, very fast boat with a very large engine, which we enjoyed using for skiing and racing. The boat and boat trailer remained "missing" and I never saw them again.

I also came home from work late one night and found the house totally in darkness instead of having the porch light on and a light in the kitchen area. It's scary and eerie to approach a darkened house when you always leave lights on but after grabbing the flashlight out of the glove compartment of the car and checking around the outside of the house first, I went inside and took a quick look around. None of the light switches worked. The main control box is outside the house and when I checked I found that all the circuits had been deliberately switched off. This was the start of a series of irritating, frightening and financially expensive events that would continue periodically for almost two years. Proving that these malicious things were being done by Brian's father was next to impossible and was never proven well enough to stand up in court.

Finally! On April 8, 1995, I received word that Brian was indeed with his grandparents at their winter place within a mile of my house. I called the grandparents house and asked to see Brian but was told that I would have to see a mediator first. The phone was then hung up.

I have to see a mediator before seeing my son? Why? I am Brian's Mother! Why in the world would I ever be told a thing like this? The questions running around in my mind were never answered either by me or by anyone else. I tried to call back to get answers to these questions and to find out when I could see Brian, but the phone was not answered.

The next day, I again called and this time I reached the grandmother. When I asked if Brian was there, she stated that he was and then allowed me to talk to him for just a few moments. I was assuring Brian that he would be home soon when the grandmother, using an extension phone, began yelling at me and said, "You should be telling Brian that you are on vacation!" She then hung the phone up. I immediately tried to call back and again there was no answer.

I have not seen my son for six days now. When I am finally allowed to talk to my son, why would ANYONE think that I would tell my son that "I am on vacation?" What in the world did she think I would say to my son after six days? I have just spent six days attempting to find and see my son and am informed that I should tell my son that "I am on vacation?"

Oh, sure! Any mother would say the same thing after not seeing her son for six days, right? Give me a break!

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