Vasquez From Jail

March 3, 2007 in Adoption, California, foster care, jail

This letter (the first of three) was sent to me from jail by Ms. Vasquez, dated September 27, 2006. Minor corrections were made for clarity only.

Dear Annette,

How wonderful to hear from you.

As you can imagine its quite awful in here. Almost six weeks in here without even being able to talk to my children on the phone.

I was getting two visits per week with my precious children. They were all so happy, especially my youngest daughter. When I was saying goodbye, she would say to me, as she hugged me tight around the neck, “Please mommy take me home, so I be happy again.” Her words.

Interestingly the social worker (CPS) offered in front of the Juvenile Judge that she could bring me my children to their here in jail. I of course refused the offer, saying to my attorney, it would be too traumatic for them to see me in chains. So, instead I requested to the social worker to please allow me phone calls with the children, so they would know I’m all right and not be over worried.

I was denied phone calls. Imagine that (CPS) would rather hurt (traumatize) children rather than help them through this painful and confusing time in their lives. What ever happened to, “in the best interest of the child?”

I have been allowed to write to them but I don’t believe my two younger girls have received anything yet. (Since, they haven’t allowed my son to go see them yet.) I’ve been here almost six weeks and they still have one excuse after another. My babies are suffering tremendously in foster care (group homes).

My almost 14-year-old son has been beat up too many times to count. They’ve even called the police to the house and according to my son; nine cops showed up and the staff locked him in a room with an older boy, blocking the door so he couldn’t get out and tell the cops how all the other boys were trying to beat him and cornered him against the garage.

My son also has RAD (reactive attachment disorder) so he loses his temper quite easily. He also lacks control. (He’s the child I sent to a therapeutic facility, in Utah for 18-months, due to severe problems at home.) He’s been doing great since he came home a year ago in August. Now this poor kid is devastated. He wants to come home more than anything else in his life.

Well, anyway back to the story of the cops.

A staff person came in to tell my son that the police wanted to take him to an institution since he was a danger to the home. My son said he quickly begged them not to send him away to an institution and that he would never tell on them again.

Threat

That was a threat. That’s how he is treated. Basically, he’s being abused by the corrupt CPS system. I have so many more stories about the abuse my children are receiving and its sick, totally sick to see how no one really cares about the child, not their “attorney ad litem” not CPS. Their rights are consistently being violated and no one does a thing about it.

Why I was arrested:

Criminal Court

Way back when I bailed out on one million dollars. The D.A. also gave conditions for bail:

  1. No contact with the children.
  2. Can’t leave the County of Santa Barbara.

Well shortly after that the Juvenile Judge ordered visitation with my children. When an attorney reminded him of the bail conditions, he (Judge) stated that he had the power to overrule that order (his order superceded any other order.) Also, I had to visit my children all the way in Camarillo, which is in another county.

Well, I have been so frustrated, upset and confused with this horrible court and CPS system that I started writing to one of my best friends, who lives in “Apple Valley.” Well we e-mail several times a week but since I don’t trust anyone since my (several) house searches. So, I wrote to my friend and vented my pain and frustration and agony over the abuse my children are going through from CPS, courts and the foster care system, about dreams, wishes and fantasies regarding the return of my babies.

My friend, “Myrtle” was always letting me vent and always made me feel safe to say anything I needed to say whether stupid or not.

Well I had several letters for “Myrtle” in my brief case along with about 800 family pictures in an 8×10 size envelope, and two letters from Attachment West Center. Anyway, I told my friend in a phone conversation that I had written to her. She seemed surprised, “You did?” she said. (Since we always e-mailed or talked on the phone, she was not expecting to hear that I wrote to her. Anyway, I didn’t mail the letters first, because I didn’t find her address at that moment. Second, after a few days of thinking about it, I felt these letters were too intense to send.

On one of my supervised visits with my 12-year-old daughter as I pulled out a load of about 100 pictures (8×10 maybe), the letter (not addressed yet) got caught by a corner and some how fell out or something, maybe it landed half way under the couch. (We visit in a garage downstairs.) It has the laundry there, a pool table, a couple of refrigerators, computers and three couches plus a coffee table in the center. So it could have easily have fallen without us noticing. The supervising staff is just staring at us at all times.

I always placed my large brief case on the floor next to me leaning on the couch. My precious daughter would then sit on my lap or next to me with her legs on my lap (since she’s a big girl and can’t quite fit on my lap any more).

I have no idea when this could have happened but a few days later I received a call form my attorney’s office. I was told letters had been found in my daughter’s room. (They do room searches every week.)

I knew I hadn’t given her any letters but suddenly I remembered Myrtles letters. I ran to check, took everything out of my bag and started shaking. Later we found out my daughter said they appeared in her room. Well I have no access to her room and I would have never wanted my precious child to read my pain and fear in those awful letters.

CPS sent an e-mail to the D.A. and the D.A. requested I be arrested for violation of bail. Since she said in court that “Myrtle” did not exist and it was just a fictitious name. She said those letters were intentionally written for my daughter.

The judge asked my attorney if “Myrtle” existed and my attorney refused to clearly admit it, by saying it doesn’t matter if she exists or not since the order has been superceded by the Juvenile Judge several months earlier.

The judge was getting more and more angry but said he would take a minute and call the other judge. (Since it was almost 5:00 p.m. on a Friday.) The Juvenile Judge had already left.

The Criminal Judge came out and said to my attorney, “Do you want to take 5-minutes with your client and see if you can produce Myrtle?” My attorney refused as I begged him to talk to me and I kept saying to him “Bob she’s my friend you met her once.” He just said very annoyed, “I know.” Then continued to annoy the judge who finally said I would be arrested. And I was immediately arrested.

I was shocked. My friend is real; she’s not a fictitious name. I feel sick since then. I asked my attorney in court the following Tuesday to please file a motion to reconsider with the judge so we could prove to the judge that yes “Myrtle” is a real person and also that the order had been superceded.

Well he said, “No, the judge will never reconsider.” Then he does a writ a week and a half later. Nothing was said in the writ about my friend “Myrtle.”

Since then he has never come to see me in jail (6-weeks and no attorney). I had just paid him the last $55,000. I owed him to go through trial and totally finish my case. Total given to him is: $90,000. And I’m here in jail.

A court appointed attorney would have been more caring. I just can’t believe I’m here again. By the way in the new paper it says: D.A. said Myrtle doesn’t exist it’s just a fictitious name.

I say someone in the group home found the envelope and opened it, saw it was for Myrtle and read about the children, which of course I mentioned in the letters and took it to my daughter’s room. It was not an accident this was cruel and intentional.

D.A. is thrilled to have me locked up again. How could I ever have a fair trial if even the judge signed the arrest warrant for me based on lies from the police report? So he actually obviously believes the report. He is biased already. How can I expect a fair trial when I’m in jail over something that is based on lies?

Just like the media said: Myrtle doesn’t exist and it’s a fictitious name. Also, the media said the children were locked in the basement with no windows and possibly malnourished.

  1. I don’t even have a basement.
  2. Children were never found locked up.
  3. Every bedroom has at least one window.
  4. There are at least two exit doors from downstairs.
  5. Children are very healthy.
  6. The children were taken to the hospital, stripped and photographed. No bruises or any signs of abuse were found on any of the children.

Lies, Lies, Lies

Mostly by the D.A. and police or detectives.

Annette, can you please type this for me and send it to my home (xxxx Foot hill Rd., Santa Barbara, CA 93105) so I could keep a copy. Also, feel free to update your link for me and I wish you could let (Squidoo) know too. I used to belong to her group.

Annette, thank you for trying to talk to me on the phone. That was really nice of you. Also, I’m not allowed anything here unless it comes from the publisher, meaning a book, which I would love to have. And no, we have no access to a legal library.

I’d like it if you could let others know and maybe they could write to me or send me information or other things or their stories to keep me busy so I won’t be so terribly lonely and hurting for my babies.

Please send me an update on your stories and the Gravelle’s also what ever else you can do would be greatly appreciated. My precious son William turned 21 while I am here in jail. Imagine his pain, so young yet with a horribly heavy load on his back. He is so supportive to me; maybe someone can send him a note to give him strength and support. He’s really just a kid and a wonderful pianist.

He is now living back at home. (The same address I gave you earlier.)

Sorry about my scribbles, we are only allowed tiny 3-inch pencils and it’s hard to write with them, we can’t even have a pencil sharpener. And yes the abuse of power here is unspeakable. These people can get away with anything they want.

When I first came here I wasn’t allowed toilet paper for eighteen hours. Yes, I’m totally serious. Others here have worse stories than me.

I’ll stop now to give you a chance to breath. Again thanks for your support and concern.

Please send me reading material. You have my address here already. By the way, how did you find out I was in jail?

Thanks a million!

Sincerely,
Sylvia Jovanna Vasquez

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