Chapter 24: September 12th

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My brother was arrested on September 4th 2005 in the parking lot at a department store

in Massachusetts. He had managed to get a late shift job at the Kohl's department store

while he was staying at Ma's house. Most times, he left the whole family with her while

he went into work. On this night, however, his luck finally ran out. He and Ma had

words, so he decided to take Susan and the children with him. They sat out in the van

while he worked. Because they were used to being in the van for hours on end, it was

probably not a big deal for the family. All of the children wore pull-ups, so they wouldn't

have to find bathrooms.

It was around four in the morning. The Hingham Police were doing their check on cars in

the department store parking lot. For whatever reason, they saw the van and ran the

license plates. There was a warrant out for Adam's arrest. The cause was for disobeying a

judge's orders to get medical physicals for his children and to provide proof of their

home schooling. While this was going on, Adam was finishing up his shift inside the

store. When he came out to the parking lot he was handcuffed and arrested on the spot.

Here is the account of the circumstances as recorded in the court document.6

On September 4, at approximately 4:00 A.M., Officer Sarah Knab found the Allerton van

in the parking lot of the department store in Massachusetts where he worked. Sleeping

inside the van were Mrs. Allerton and the seven children. All of the children were

sleeping either on the belongings, in car seats or curled on the floor.

Inside the van were bags of personal belongings such as clothes, bedding, furniture, toys

and assorted groceries and food. The bags of clothing were stacked up in front of the

sliding door, impeding access to the outside. The clothes, toys and furniture were also

piled around the children, creating a dangerous situation for them. In addition, the family

had other personal belongings on a roof rack on top of the van. Contrary to the parents'

assertions, the court finds that the family was living in the van.

While Mrs. Allerton identified herself, she would not answer any other questions without

her husband present. Mr. Allerton was eventually located in the store. When law

enforcement told him there were outstanding pick-up orders for his children from Maine,

he told police there was no paperwork preventing him from having his children. Mrs.

Allerton was arrested on an outstanding DLS warrant from Maine. Mrs. Allerton and the

children were brought to the police station and the Maine social services were contacted.

To this day, chills still run up and down my spine when I think of the terror the children

must have felt on that dark morning. At the time, I even felt a flash of sympathy for

Adam. That was short lived sentiment, as I later learned the full extent of the

unforgivable damage he and his wretched wife had inflicted upon my nephews and

nieces.

Adam and Susan spent the day and that night in the jail. The children were eventually

driven out of state by a social worker and a police officer to the home of their great aunt,

Susan's aunt, in Maine. The children were terrified out of their minds. They'd never been away from their parents before, and here they were in the middle of the night in a car

with strangers for over two hours, knowing they were leaving their father and mother

locked up in a jail.

A few days later, on September the 12th, Adam was incarcerated for contempt of court.

Their van was impounded along with all of their ―things‖. He lost the job at the

department store, of course and was fired from a temporary position he'd been working

at. It was one of those temporary Halloween store locations at the local mall. The police

found boxes full of Halloween costumes among the ―things‖ in the van.

It was the Labor Day weekend 2005. We were visiting friends in San Francisco. It was

one of those beautiful Indian summer days. Lucas and Abbey were playing with the

children of our hosts and other guests on the back lawn. They were having a great time.

On the barbecue, steaks, sausages and hamburger meats were sizzling and spitting, their

familiar aroma mixing and drifting with the slightest of breezes to my nose, even stirring

within this almost vegetarian practitioner that the time to eat was fast approaching.

From the patio, where I was sitting with Jack, the wife of our host and other guests at the

table laden with drinks, salads and barbecue condiments, we could see the magnificent

Golden Gate Bridge spanning the narrow channel where the cold waters of the Pacific

Ocean rush in and out of San Francisco Bay at least a couple of time a day, connecting

the city of San Francisco from its northern tip to the south end of Marin County. The

Bridge had the dubious reputation for being the most popular place in the United States

and the world for people to commit suicide. I remember thinking at the time how could

those people go through with so final an act of capitulation with nature's rugged beauty

on display for all to marvel and contemplate. There it was an internationally recognized

symbol of man's extraordinary ability to overcome the most daunting of challenges

represented in the mighty span of concrete, steel and cable? How tragic that there were so

many that unhappy.

My cell phone rang. It was the inevitable call I knew would come. Ma had already called

to tell me that Adam and Susan had spent the night in jail and that the children had been

taken to the home of one of Susan's relatives, her auntie living in Maplewood. I was

upset by the news, of course, and the old feelings of sympathy for Adam's dilemma crept

over me despite my best efforts to suppress them. Even with all his faults, his narcissism,

his dishonesty, his personal attacks and the absolute absence of gratitude for all Jack and

I had done to help him and his family, well over $35,000 in cash up to this point in time

alone, I couldn't shake the thought, He's my brother, he's my family and I used to really

love him, and he looked so sad and drawn when I saw him. The number one thing that

weighed so heavily on my mind was that I would want my children to do anything to help

each other. I would want them to be able to help each other no matter what. However,

with Adam I knew a line had to drawn somewhere.

―Yes?‖

―Amelia?‖

I was aware of my heart thumping heavily against the wall of my chest. Suddenly, my

enjoyment with all the activity of the children playing and the conversations with our friends changed into the familiar darkness, even melancholy at the sound of Adam's

voice.

―Wait a minute, Adam, I have to find a quiet place where I can hear you.‖

Jack scowled, ―You should have left that bloody phone in the car like I suggested.‖

―Yes, you're right, I should have listened to you.‖

―He only ever calls us for one reason, Amelia, money!‖ said Jack. ―You ought to cut him

off. I don't want him spoiling your day.‖

―I'll be quick,‖ I said as I grimaced and nodded before going into the house and then on

into the living room, which was away from the outside noise. I stood and stared out of the

big bay window at the same view of the Golden Gate Bridge that could be seen from the

patio.

―Amelia, I have a problem, and I need to get a lawyer.‖

―A problem. Of course you have a problem, Adam. That is all you ever have are

problems. It's the only time we ever hear from you.‖

―Listen for a minute, will you?‖ he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. ―I've been

arrested on some trumped up charges. Susan and I spent the night in jail. The kids were

taken from us, and I have to appear in court in a few days. I need money to get a lawyer.‖

―Ma called me. I know.‖

―You know! You know what happened to my family, and you didn't call!‖

Oh, God, here we go again, I thought. Even though my hands were trembling and my

tummy was in turmoil, I managed to keep my voice calm.

―Why would we? You only have yourself to blame. You ignore the Judge's order and

think you can get away with it. You'll just have to deal with it yourself.‖

―Please, Amelia, think of the kids, they...‖

―That's precisely what you should have been doing. Your neglected children are the only

reason I'm talking to you now.‖

―I need $500 to hire a lawyer. Help me out, Amelia. The kids are terrified.‖

―Oh, spare me. Those kids haven't been getting proper meals, and there are questions

about their health; they are not being educated; they can hardly be understood because

their speech is so unintelligible, and their parents are going to jail. No wonder they are

terrified. They probably would be better off if they were fostered out with other families.‖

―How you can even think that, let alone say it. We are family, Amelia, you, me, ma and

our sisters. Susan and my kids mean everything to me. I can't give them up. Please help

us out with the $500,‖ he said, his voice breaking with a hint that he was sobbing.

―We can't do it any longer, Adam. All you do is take and take until you've got as much

as you can, and then we don't hear from you until you're desperate again. You never call

to ask how my family is doing. Jack, who has a good job and works hard, has been

extremely generous. I know you have never thanked him. No, you'll have to figure your own way out of this situation. You know, I wish I didn't see you when we were home this

summer.‖ I could almost see him gritting his teeth. There was a pause. I waited.

―I'm really in trouble this time, Amelia. Will you talk to Jack? Please, just this one last

time, please.‖

It had been a few years since I sent him any money, and I didn't want to start up the

pattern again.

―You've caused enough stress in our lives. As I said, you wouldn't be in this mess if, for

once, you'd done what you were told to do by the authorities.‖

It was exhausting listening to him. He went on and on about what happened, trying to

slant it his way, but I already had all of the ―real‖ facts from a woman in Social Services,

who I'd contacted after Ma had told me of their arrest. He blamed everyone: the landlord,

the police, social services, the judge, etc. etc. Finally, I couldn't stand to listen to another

word.

―I'll talk to Jack.‖ I snapped shut the lid of the cell phone, stared out at the bridge for a

moment and then left to rejoin Jack and the party.

You guessed it; we gave him the $500. I didn't know what kind of lawyer he could get

for $500, but that wasn't my problem, I remember thinking at the time. I told him ―NO

MORE‖ after this. What a joke! I really meant it when I said it, but Ma would call and

ask us to help; she would cry and say he had nobody else to help him. She wasn't well,

and she was getting all stressed out. I worried about her.

Just like whenever Adam got into trouble before, I would feel compelled to help in some

way. I was hoping it wouldn't have to be financially, but what happened in the months

and years yet to come was shocking, a saga that was to go on and on and continues to this

day I wonder if it will ever end? As long as Adam was around, I didn't think it ever could

or would.

And, there were the children, always the children to think about.

Here is an extract7 from the Maine Family Court document, which was to substantiate

what I was finding out about the children's disposition. It vindicates why I could not just

walk away from those two nephews and five nieces.

To both the police and Massachusetts social workers, the children were thin and appeared

much smaller and younger than their ages. Cindy did not have the strength in her arms to

hold her two-year old sister Lilly. Lilly did not walk on her own all of that day.

Maine CPS workers and police picked up the children from Massachusetts and brought

them to the home of a great aunt in Massachusetts. All seven children were examined on

September 5, 2005 at the Region Hospital. The physician expressed concerns with

Cindy's emaciated appearance and Lilly's heart murmur. He also recommended dental

care. The four youngest Lilly, Rachel, Charlotte and Keith, were not toilet trained.