My friend Phil...and CPS.

I must have written about 150 articles now over the past few months about so-called "child protective" "services" (CPS) and their abuse of everything that can be abused---the public trust, the law, family values, parental rights, and, of course, even the children that they supposedly exist "to protect." But, I've never felt comfortable, really, about talking about Phil, and his son Jason (pseudonyms used to protect the typically innocent) until now.

Maybe I could have done more. Maybe I had my priorities set to "macro" rather than "micro"...i.e. on my own neighbors...when it came to taking on the anti-Christ government that has been running my country since at least the 1960s. I didn't really know "Phil," I guess. After all, he grew up here, and we only moved here when I was already 35, and Phil was already about 55.

I've always been a pretty outspoken guy, I guess. Even back in the early 1990's when I was just 30, I was already ruining people's "conservative" "pro-American" parties and parades by asking the uncomfortable questions. Before moving here I had already gotten a bit of a reputation, I guess. In 1991, I marched in the parade in my then hometown that was organized by a "conservative" supporter of the First Gulf War. My big sign saying "Support the troops, bring them home!" went over with the parade organizers like a lead balloon. I learned that day you have to be willing to support death and destruction to be their kind of "patriot." I just wasn't into it.

(courtesy of nationalinterest.org.)

Then, during that same period, I lobbied hard against the passage of "NAFTA"--especially the sovereignty-robbing and internationalist aspects of it, and that (plus criticizing what I knew were early moves to make our factory "redundant") cost me my mid-level management job at G.H. Bass Shoe Co.--a quality shoe manufacturer that was the backbone of our community, and that was forced out of business just a few years later.

During that time, I really didn't know much about CPS. My wife and I were raising four beautiful children, and we were still, despite the setbacks, connected--a bit-- in the community, and we weren't poor, so we never really were good CPS targets ourselves (although later we were, and maybe one day, I'll even write about that-- though that one is still really tough to go into, for a variety of reasons.) Anyway, after losing my job, I was able to get another job in the shoe trade for a couple years, and then came '93...NAFTA passed, and I wrote critical letters to the state's 2nd largest paper about the Waco tragedy, and the Trilateral Commission (of which our then Senator William Cohen--the very definition of a RINO and Susan Collins's mentor--was a founding member.) So, I was already becoming a "trouble maker" and a bit of a target. In 1995, I wrote a letter that got printed in the Lewiston Sun Journal that was critical of the official story about the Oklahoma City Bombing (highlighting General Ben Partin's assertions that it could not have been an ANFO bomb, etc.) and had a black, unmarked military helicopter hover over my house for a couple minutes in a downtown area the next day (all witnessed by dozens of people and written up in the Livermore Falls paper.)

I was able to "re-train" through some program that paid tuition for people that lost jobs due to NAFTA, and got my teaching degree (I'd already had a business management degree) and we decided to take a job in remote and very rural Aroostook County (the top 1/5th of our state and the largest country east of the Mississippi, but with just 70,000 people) working for a new "Christian" School that had just started up.

That job lasted four years, until it became clear they didn't really want a history teacher teaching real history, and it was during this time that I met Phil. I don't recall for sure if any of his kids attended our school, but despite there being a dozen Christian churches in our little town we all knew each other to one slight degree or more, and Phil was just a guy who caught my attention. Maybe it was the full beard. Maybe it was the jovial manner--at least at first. We talked a few times, and over the space of a couple years we moved into a slightly-more-than-acquaintance area. In the run up to Y2K, we went to preparedness meetings together. We both had some loose connection with Republican Party politics--although Senator Collins is from here, and so we were always left on the margins as anti-RINOs.

Then "IT" happened. I am not sure the year even, but the next time I saw Phil he had greatly changed. His attractive beard had become unkempt. His face was now harried and careworn. I asked what happened and he could only tell me that he couldn't talk about it, "yet." He did tell me he would later. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know him THAT well, and it was probably a very personal matter, so I didn't press him at that time.

Before I saw Phil again, rumors were already flying. He had taken his kids out of school and had been homeschooling. His oldest, Jason, who I'd never met had been taken "by the authorities," I heard. I didn't even, at that early date, know who that would be, but later heard it was our version of CPS....."DHS"...or Department of Human Services. Even though people knew the boy had been taken, no one seemed to know why.

(canacopegdi.com.)

The next time I saw Phil (he had no phone, so I couldn't call, and I didn't know where he lived either) he was working as a shelf stocker at Walmart. His hair had gone wild too, and his beard was even more unkempt. He took me aside briefly and --this I never will forget-- he squeezed my hand, and with a look of utter desperation he whispered..."They've taken my boy."

"Why?" I asked..trying to be as sympathetic as possible while at the same time trying not to appear to be prying...a tough balance.

"They said I molested him."

That was a tough one. I hesitated just a bit, not even really knowing what to say, and before I could muster a reply he said, "I didn't do it, Steve. I could never...I would never..." and his voice broke, he began to weep and he turned away from me.

I didn't know him that well. This was way outside my comfort zone. I had no real connections or resources to help him. I stuttered out the question...I asked where he was....

"I don't know. They won't tell me where they've taken him... I can't even get the judge to tell me when we'll get to see him again."

I don't remember much more about that conversation. I must have been as sympathetic as was polite, without being overly committal. I'm sure I promised to pray for him and Jason, and I'm sure I did--at least a few times. The next time I saw Phil, there was nothing much new. He still hadn't seen his son. He had no idea whether he would. Whenever he tried to find out where DHS has moved Jason to, he got lies and run around. It was obvious he was sinking into a feeling of overwhelmed hopelessness. But..... I didn't know him THAT well. Besides, even though I somehow innately knew it was impossible, people were saying he COULD be guilty. I didn't want to be associated with someone who might even possibly be guilty of THAT, because, I had also just faced a false accusation from an 8th-grade girl myself at my "Christian" school, and though I was rightfully cleared, I knew how uncomfortable all of that could be for everyone involved.

Later, I heard Phil's wife left him.

I saw Phil again a couple times after 911. He came to a couple of our local meetups for people who were concerned about the whole situation/story and were questioning what to do about all the new war talk, etc. There was never really any change in Phil's situation. Phil said he couldn't get any answers, and that he still hadn't seen his son, and that even his letters to Jason always came back "return to sender."

Years went by. I saw Phil once every year or two... No change. He never did see his son, but he also was never imprisoned himself--which I thought was strange for someone who was supposedly guilty of child abuse.

I haven't seen him in probably 4-5 years now. I got busy with other things and other people, and more or less forgot about Phil and Jason. He might have passed on. He would be mid 70s, at least now....

After all, what could I have done? I am no lawyer. I am not in law enforcement or the court systems. I didn't get elected the two times I ran for the State Senate and the State House. I was powerless.

Or was I?