On October 25, 2012, I waited in front of our daughter's middle school with a court-order in hand and I patted my breast, once again, to feel for the outline of my California driver's license in my shirt pocket. It was still there but that little bit of re-assurance didn't make a dent in my growing concern that our daughter was nowhere in sight. The release bell had rung a few minutes ago and the drove of students that poured out had dwindled down to a few scattered stragglers. But still no April.
The court order was just in case I had to call the Sheriff's department once again. The state I.D. was just in case my ex-wife questioned my identity. The last time I attempted to exercise my right to see our daughter, Christy insisted on seeing a proper I.D. I have known Christy for over 15 years and had a child with her 14 years ago and you can bet the house that she recognizes me on sight. This was just another ploy to keep me from my visitation with our daughter April.
As insane as this sounds, this kind of stunt works too often.
Christy is very familiar with the court system; she has had experience with the three different fathers of her three children. She knows that a Sheriff is going to ask for a court-stamped court-order and proper identification. A few weeks ago, I drove the two hours to pick up April in our Ford Taurus, leaving my driver’s license in our minivan two hours away. Something that Christy and Mike would later mock me about calling it a “rookie mistake.” The sad part is that as wrong as they are in denying me access to our daughter, in this particular incident, as far as the law is concerned, they are right.
After searching in the car for any other form of ID and my pleas for empathy from Christy fell on deaf ears, I got in my car and I drove the two hours back home. At least I didn’t have to wait hours for the Sheriff to respond and my wife and girls at home would be happy that I was home early.
April should have been out by now. I stepped out of the minivan to get a better view. I looked around the school parking lot once again. I had carefully scanned the lot for any sign of Christy, Mike or Kaylee when I drove in and was relieved to not see them or any sign of their cars.
As I turned my attention back to the school, I see Mike’s red Mercedes drives by, but instead of stopping in front of the school, it drives past at a swift speed at stops in front of the school gymnasium. As soon as I figure out what is going on, I grab my camera and start recording.
The video shows what happens next.
Afterwards, the text exchange is interesting as Christy can’t get her story straight.
I went back to the van and sat stunned, silently for a while. A friend came by and I re-played for her what had just occurred. She is familiar with our story and like most people, I felt she was at a loss for what to say. I changed the subject.
I called the Sheriff, but this is the only time that no one showed up. Instead, I received a call and the officer said he would make a report. I informed him that I just drove 2 hours and that her step-dad, Mike had no right to pick up our daughter in violation of a court order. He stated that an arrest was at his discretion and that in writing a report for me, he was doing more than any other officer in California would do in this case.
He went on and stated that I could pick up the report at the La Quinta Police Department. (That’s a whole other story)
(for the complete story go here)
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