Only One of Many Stories...Ken and Dale
Chapter 1
She began as a young girl, with a little baby, her boy carried to work at times, when she worked at bars, at times left home for her mom to care for. She met another man, and thought he would care for her. She had two cute baby boys, and then the fighting started. The police followed the phone line into a closet, where they found the babies, in diapers, holding the phone where one had called them, their parents trying to kill each other.
I drove up to a little one floor red house with a porch like a stable . The clang of Armco Steel hit me as the whistle shrieked. Dust lay everywhere, and a sliding sound penetrated the air. The drive went up between two houses, Grandma housed adult disabled and mentally retarded children in one house. We parked near a large red barn where about 30 cats had been eating from pie tins scattered about. Children raced into the house, cats into the field. We went to the door and knocked. A thin grey haired lady came to the door carrying a toddler. She had been told of our visit, but was not happy to know she would not be allowed to adopt these boys. She had cared for them for three years, and in all that time had expected to adopt. What kind of justice was that? I could see her anger, good enough to care for them? Not good enough to keep them?
They were anxious and came out the door, adorable little lads, with tousled little boy looks. Smiles wide as the barn. We would just take them to the park today. Clang! How did they live next door to that infernal noise?
Older brother had been at the same foster home for three years, but Rick had visits from mom. For three years she had come, and taken him while the two little ones cried at the window seeing her leave without them, never taking them on a visit. She finally left with Rick, saying she wanted nothing to do with "That man's children."
At the park we went on the swings, we walked the balance beams, and climbed the monkey bars. These were busy boys, but Kenny talked, and Dale was quiet. Dale dark haired wider built, while Ken was thin and light haired. They were as different as night and day. When I could not understand what Dale was trying to tell me, I would ask his brother, who was a really fast, smart interpreter that knew his brother well. It was obvious they needed individual care, and that they were not getting it. They were in kindergarten and first grade, and Dale was not doing well. His problems would have to be carefully analyzed, since it was not obvious what the issues were. His foster mom was not active in school issues, not often attending meetings or following through with directives they suggested. I had my work cut out for me. First I needed to find schools appropriate for these children, and then testing and evaluation. And then, it would be a feat getting them gently removed with little trauma from this foster home.
She began as a young girl, with a little baby, her boy carried to work at times, when she worked at bars, at times left home for her mom to care for. She met another man, and thought he would care for her. She had two cute baby boys, and then the fighting started. The police followed the phone line into a closet, where they found the babies, in diapers, holding the phone where one had called them, their parents trying to kill each other.
I drove up to a little one floor red house with a porch like a stable . The clang of Armco Steel hit me as the whistle shrieked. Dust lay everywhere, and a sliding sound penetrated the air. The drive went up between two houses, Grandma housed adult disabled and mentally retarded children in one house. We parked near a large red barn where about 30 cats had been eating from pie tins scattered about. Children raced into the house, cats into the field. We went to the door and knocked. A thin grey haired lady came to the door carrying a toddler. She had been told of our visit, but was not happy to know she would not be allowed to adopt these boys. She had cared for them for three years, and in all that time had expected to adopt. What kind of justice was that? I could see her anger, good enough to care for them? Not good enough to keep them?
They were anxious and came out the door, adorable little lads, with tousled little boy looks. Smiles wide as the barn. We would just take them to the park today. Clang! How did they live next door to that infernal noise?
Older brother had been at the same foster home for three years, but Rick had visits from mom. For three years she had come, and taken him while the two little ones cried at the window seeing her leave without them, never taking them on a visit. She finally left with Rick, saying she wanted nothing to do with "That man's children."
At the park we went on the swings, we walked the balance beams, and climbed the monkey bars. These were busy boys, but Kenny talked, and Dale was quiet. Dale dark haired wider built, while Ken was thin and light haired. They were as different as night and day. When I could not understand what Dale was trying to tell me, I would ask his brother, who was a really fast, smart interpreter that knew his brother well. It was obvious they needed individual care, and that they were not getting it. They were in kindergarten and first grade, and Dale was not doing well. His problems would have to be carefully analyzed, since it was not obvious what the issues were. His foster mom was not active in school issues, not often attending meetings or following through with directives they suggested. I had my work cut out for me. First I needed to find schools appropriate for these children, and then testing and evaluation. And then, it would be a feat getting them gently removed with little trauma from this foster home.
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