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After all these events, my grandmother decided to write a letter to the United Nations and all of the United States Senators and Representatives. Since it details and explains more of the events that happened in France, it would be a great idea to quote it, as follows:
Our telephone at Adams St. was still connected. The house, however, had four apartments that were strangely divided to anyone looking from the outside. Only one elderly woman remained living there, Ms. J. Jovanovic. In October, a group of Hispanics appeared at her doorstep. Ms. Jovanovic told us, "I saw some young Hispanics at the door. I thought to myself that there weren’t any Hispanics around here but maybe they are looking for an apartment to rent. I opened the door and they pushed their way in and started looking everywhere, asking for Despotovic, Despotovic. I saw that something wasn’t right. They were all over the place. I managed to get to a phone and called the police. When they saw that, they ran to their car. Their license plate was from Chicago. I wrote down the number and I gave it to the police." The CIA used this as revenge for us going to the White House. If they did not organize it, it was not stopped either. With the widespread surveillance system that is active in Chicago, it is almost impossible that this could have escaped the knowledge of the CIA. After this failed attack, realizing we no longer lived there, at the end of October, beginning of November, Mrs. Despotovic called a Yugoslavian Radio and asked them if they knew where Mr. Despotovic lived or could be found. Should she really had wanted to talk to me, the telephone number that she had for Adams St. was still active and working. She knew the number and she could have left me a message. Without reason, December 4, 1998, Ameritech disconnected that line although the bills had always been paid for. The neighborhood where we lived in Michigan City, Indiana, was an extremely nice and quiet neighborhood. For example, if the radio or television was just a bit too loud, the groundskeeper was sent so that the other neighbors were not bothered. However, our new neighbors that moved in above us began making incredible and terrifying noises. Every night, it was calls for help, objects thrown around, and loud noises. We did not react to any of this because we knew they were waiting for us to call the police. The provocations came stronger and stronger: they started fighting in the stairwells, and on our ceiling they began throwing very heavy objects 20 to 30 times in a row at a time. All we did was get out of the way so that nothing would fall on our heads. At the end, our apartment was flooded by water that ran along the walls from the apartment upstairs. Neither the police, nor the village office ever intervened, though the noises most certainly bothered the several other apartments as well. In August, we moved into a home much closer to Chicago. Right before leaving for Washington, DC, we faxed a letter to the FBI, stating that in September, we were preparing to protest in front of the White House. Several days later, we were visited by two Secret Service agents who came to investigate us: If my father owned weapons, if he planned to shoot in front of the White House, if he had ever been admitted to psychiatric hospitals, etc… However, they knew very well that he owned a Colt 38 that had been legally purchased many years ago. He had been in front of the White House three times, but had never been crazy to even think of shooting there. Without a doubt, this "gentleman" and the CIA who has caused us trouble for the past 16 years, was trying to ridicule and discredit us to protect his own fraudulent affairs. This time, he had the gall to mock the Secret Service, presenting us as dangerous persons, showing that the "Big Man," was doing a "good job" of pointing us out like terrorists. In the afternoon of September 8, my father concluded that his feelings had been accurate. As soon as we positioned ourselves with signs in front of the White House, two SWAT members remained behind our backs behind the fence about 10 feet away. (Two days later, they left us alone.) Behind us, the company who maintained the landscape around the White House was taking care of changing the sod. Friday, September 11, several trucks entered the yard. One thing we noticed that was strange was that after the departure of the vans, one man remained, and he kept going from one water sprinkler to the other, not knowing what to do. Several moments later, two special officers picked him up and took him away in a car. A couple of hours later, they came back and spoke with the two security guards at the gate, taking them along with them as well. I do not know if this incident or provocation had anything to do with us, but I find it necessary to mention. Saturday, September 12, as soon as we arrived, an officer with some papers came straight towards us saying that he had some court papers to arrest some people that were supposed to be here, and he wondered if it was not us. We remained calm as usual and he finally left us alone. Several people from different organizations informed themselves on our case with the stated intention of returning the children to us. These people knew that the children were plunging on the streets of Chicago because the mother was incapable of taking care of them. They knew the children were not going to school that they were hardly ever home, and that Catherine was under probation and being jailed a few weeks at a time several times already. Despite this, no one did anything. We must honestly thank the Secret Service Security Guards, in white uniforms, for their fantastic cooperation, comprehension, --- true gentlemen, above any level of doubt. It was our fourth time there, and we have never had a problem with them. They were always very nice and comprehensive. On the contrary, the Park Police, in blue uniform, are not too full of intelligence, and though we had some incidents with them, they were fairly uncommon.
While we were in front of the White House, Despot kept faxing letters to Senators, Representatives, White House, United Nations, Consulates, Embassies, and every one else of importance. At the same time, he bombarded all of the newsgroups on the Internet with the second website we had opened and placed in Asia purposefully. The precautions we took were not sufficient because America On Line disconnected any of their customers who would view our page on our server in Florida. We switched to a server in India. We noticed that employees from foreign Consulates came to see us in front of the White House. Several apologized that they could do nothing for us, saying that they understood us very well and that they regretted that the American government still had not understood anything. Several other official persons meddled with the crowd, watching us from afar, giving us some form of comprehension. Other people came to speak to us saying that "years ago, I worked for the CIA, but at the time, we did not apply these types of methods at all." Others told us, "The person who did this must have a mental problem." Many other people said that they had seen and heard of problems similar to ours. We even had a comical scene where a journalist came full of energy, with a notepad, camera, ready to publish a full article on us, getting all of the details of what the Yugoslavian Secret Services did to us. When she found out this story happened here, she picked up her stuff and left unhappy. Several times, we noticed a lady standing around the crowds that would read our signs, a little off to the side, following us from a distance to the grocery store, etc. She fit my father's description of Ms. Dorothy Bates, but since I had never seen her before, I am not sure if it was she. September 25, we estimated that we had remained long enough. We then headed down South to South Carolina to check up on our storage space and land. It was very touching when we opened up our storage, the children's toys were still there, recalling memories from the past, a broken family, the children's joy stopped --- all this orchestrated and directed with full knowledge of a government which calls itself free and democratic. We also detoured to Charleston to check up on our van. As we thought, it was still in good shape, all the tires were full of air, rust was in two spots, and of course, it was dirty. However, from afar or up close, the descriptions that the mechanics gave us (that the van was so rusted that the batteries had rusted through the floor and were hanging by the cables) was nowhere near the truth. We do not know if he wanted that van personally and tried to get us to give it up, or if he was pressured into telling us this. On our return to Indiana, we were no longer bothered, which encouraged us to begin doing business on the Internet with hosting and web designing. Every day, we placed the broadcasts from an ethnic radio station on the Internet and we were optimistic that soon things would turn on our side and that the children would be here to spend Christmas with us. In October and November, we awaited the results to see if our appeal had been accepted. Our attorney gave us three notebooks: 1) a very thin one containing the accusations of DCFS, 2) a larger one containing arguments and accusations of the State, and 3) one that was one and one-half inches thick containing all the frauds and contradictory statements found by our attorney, Ms. Tyson. Re-reading all of those files was enough to raise our pressure to almost make us faint. A lot of these accusations had not even been discussed in court. The lies were limitless. For example, social worker, Sonia Freemond, stated in her report that the father slapped his 14 year-old daughter, because a teenager (13-19 years of age) came to the house looking for her. Truth: For this report, we had the video-camera out and filmed, with Sonia Freemond's knowledge, when she came to make the report at our house, at our living room table, and with witnesses, when I explained to her that it was a THIRTY year old man that came to ask for Caroline. She dared lying there. Can you imagine for the rest of the file, for which we have no easy way to prove, how far the world of lies went in these sick minds that needed excitement of all types, without thinking that it is the children that suffer the consequences? I transferred my lawsuit against my former employers to another attorney, who immediately took good care of it. After some time though, it began to be delayed for one reason or another and stretched into months of waiting with no results. We spent Christmas by ourselves, all of our story having been forgotten. At the beginning of January, there was a hearing, and neither our attorney, nor us were present. Our local Representative accepted to take care of handling our Immigration papers. The entire forms cost us $440.00. In February, we received a response stating that our entire file had been refused. WE UNDERSTOOD THAT THIS FILE IS COMPLETELY SUPPORTED BY THE WHITE HOUSE AND THAT IT WAS NOT IN THEIR INTERESTS TO RETURN THE CHILDREN. THEREFORE, WE TOOK MATTERS IN OUR OWN HANDS. We had waited to hear from the children before Christmas, but Ameritech had disconnected the only telephone line to which they knew the number. We did not hear from them and we began to worry greatly. We no longer believed DCFS's story that the children were doing fine, that they were with the mother and got along great. We new that something serious must be happening with them, but we did not know what. All of 1998, we tried finding the children in Chicago. We started at a few French bakeries inquiring if they had seen Mrs. Renee, if she stopped in occasionally, etc. A few bits of information that we gathered were not enough to find out where the children were. We visited several schools, or would wait for the children to get out of school and ask the crowds of children if they had seen or heard of the Despotovic children. Police cars would follow me from school to school, but would just stay back and observe me. We paid several "people locator organizations," but every time we got old addresses from South Carolina. Finally, it was only in February 1999, that on an Internet search for the nth time, I found Renee Despotovic, and a North Drake Street address in Chicago. Despot still had an arrest warrant. Yet, our emotions were too strong, and we decided to risk everything anyway by sending him to pay his sisters a visit. In February, Despot stopped by to visit them, and the results were shocking. He said, "I went up to the third floor and Mom opened the door. I said 'Good Night, Can I speak to Catherine?' She told me she was not there. I stayed and looked at her for a minute or two. She did not recognize me, so I went downstairs. Catherine must have seen and recognized me, because she called me from the window for me to come up. I went back upstairs and Catherine and Mom started crying. Catherine could not stop crying while I was there and I found them very much in despair, at the end of their wits. They told me Christine was at the hospital, but they would not tell me why. (Later we found out it was for a second suicide attempt.) A little later, while we were still crying, the telephone rang and it was Christine calling at home. At first, she did not believe it was me, but after she heard me, she started sobbing and I could not get her to stop. A little later, Caroline and Camille came back from grocery shopping. Caroline was five months pregnant (conceived in September of 1998, at the age of 17). Camille stared at me for about 3-4 minutes before realizing who I was. She then started crying. I think the one that was most shocked was I. I saw my sisters around me completely lost. The apartment in which they lived was bare and they seemed to be living a hairline above misery. The television and air conditioner were both in Renee's bedroom. Caroline's boyfriend lives with them. Upon leaving, Mom refused to give me her phone number. In the end, Caroline gave it to me.”
Renee received no Public Aid. It was impossible for her to feed, clothe, and house five people on her meager income. Placing her in a bad neighborhood in these conditions was a premeditated action so that the children would have no choice but to fail. Someone had plans to break up the family and push the kids into prostitution. After this family disaster that was well arranged, we addressed a letter to Juvenile court, and told the judge that Christine had been hospitalized for attempted suicide. March 12, social worker Denise Alvarez paid them a visit. April 26, Ms. Alvarez was content to tell of her experience with that visit--- if the house was clean or not. She said she did not know why Christine had been to the hospital. (The children later told us that Ms. Alvarez went with Renee to the hospital to sign Christine in and was perfectly aware why Christine was there.) The judge asked Renee twice why Christine was in the hospital, but she refused to answer and was not made to answer. Public Guardian Jim Burton did not care. The whole case was stifled. We saw very clearly that this Mafia was not ready to abandon the children, but was watching them take the plunge on the streets of Chicago. At the same time, we were living in a six-bedroom house and with three IBM computers, we were developing our business on the Internet with website designing and hosting, as well as long distance telephone service. Recall the recommendation of the psychiatrist, "in my professional opinion, the children would be better with the father, grandmother, and Corinne than with the mother." As soon as we found out, we asked the Senators and Representatives for help. In March, we received some letters from some Representatives. Every Friday, we continually faxed letters to more than 10,000 newspapers and magazines worldwide. We received only a few people that wanted to be added to our mailing list. It was evident that there is NO freedom of speech. Despite the fact that it was the children's welfare at stake, no one seemed interested. March 24, the war with Yugoslavia started. Horrible events happened. Other than military sites, many civilian targets were hit such as hospitals, churches, schools, and monasteries. We have family there. Around them, bombs were falling and NATO planes fell with Yugoslav missiles. In the first 15 days, more than 30 fell; however, here in the US, we were told that only one plane fell. In total, at least 100 NATO pilots/commandos were reported killed, with the bodies going through the Red Cross in Greece. The bodies of the pilots were returned to the US, but here in the US, we were told no one had died yet. It was only then that our family REALLY began to understand what we meant before when we told them how the truth can be completely turned around here. Taking advantage of the fact that the U.S. was at war with Yugoslavia, our telephone lines were crossed and out-of-service one day for several hours. To be clearer, they must have been routed through other connections, something which we became aware of later. Letters that we would fax to the United Nations, senators, newspapers, etc… no longer reached their destination or with a text that was completely different which made no sense to the receiver. Our mail, too, was either changed or misrouted, or delayed. Due to the hours that Corinne was working, our spare time greatly decreased. Despot kept trying to call his sisters and establish some kind of relation with them. Every time, Renee would cut him off in front of them, or the girls would not be free to talk to him. She would stand behind them and all that the girls would say is “Is that all? Is that all?" They were afraid we would find out that Catherine was on probation, that the girls were never home and that there were tons of problems in the households. This obliged us to have Despot visit them several times. It was terrible, for Christine and Catherine were never home. Night after night, they never came home. Days and weeks they would miss school; however, no one ever questioned it. That is how, little by little, we began discovering the truth. May 31, 1999, Camille was expelled from school. June 11, 1999, Caroline gave birth to a baby girl. Several weeks later, Despot went to visit them. It was 11:30 p.m., and Camille was home, but Catherine and Christine were absent. It became apparent that Catherine and Christine were no longer really at home. Despite the fact that they were not even old enough to work, Catherine was working at Beirut Restaurant, and Christine was working at a dollar store. This did not explain their absences at home, however, because they would not come home at all for a week or two at a time. This was all in contradiction with what DCFS was telling us about the children: "The children are doing great." Once more, despite my young age, I was promoted to management at my job. The Ace Hardware store covered 12,000 square feet and had about 15 employees. Every time that we pushed further in finding out about the children, strange accidents happened to us. In August of 1999, coming home from work one night, I took my usual route home. Driving in the right lane, a semi-truck, which was behind me in the middle lane, decided to accelerate and merge to the right lane, bouncing me off the road completely. There was no reason for the driver to even try to merge to the right, because there were indications that the right lane was ending anyway due to construction. The driver never stopped and just kept going. I was left unharmed and the car "slightly" damaged only by a miracle. The license plate number I gave to the police did not exist. Murder attempt or accident???
At the end of August, I received notice to appear in court for the lawsuit that my attorney had filed to collect my overtime pay from my former employer. This had to be moved because my attorney received notice that he had to serve jury duty. My case was rescheduled for December 1999. To start with, this file was very clear and easy. I could not lose, as my ex-employers owed me money for my overtime. (As of August 2001, this case is still open, unresolved, and a trial date still has not been set.) March 11, 1998, Catherine had been caught with a group of teenagers breaking into a home and thieving jewelry. She was under probation and had to be home by 6 p.m., so from time to time they put her on electronic monitoring bracelets since she was hardly ever home. August 24, we went to Catherine's court date in Court 56. When the mother saw us there, she was furious. The two Mafia Chiefs, James Burton, and the state attorney, Mr. Robert Williams, jumped at the occasion to bring up an order of protection and prohibit us from informing ourselves either directly or indirectly about the children, so that we would not find out what is happening with the children. For us, this changed nothing. We continued to supervise the children even more. September 7, 1999, we went to the Appeals Court with Mrs. Tyson. State Attorney Williams brought along a Mrs. Hussein for reinforcement. Mrs. Tyson presented our case fairly normally except for one mistake that is not very forgivable for an attorney. When the judge asked her, "Does the reason for this appeal have anything to do with the fact that because one is found guilty of sexual abuse, immigration papers cannot be obtained?" Mrs. Tyson responded that to her knowledge one could not receive papers after being found guilty of sexual abuse. Mrs. Tyson knew very well that this was not the reason at all for our appeal, and why she even answered the question that way is bewildering. One month and one-half later, we received a response from the appeal. They refused to overturn the decision on Caroline's accusations, but they did overturn Christine's accusations because there was no testimony or evidence to support that accusation. In the appeals report, we noticed that the judges used a false psychiatric report issued by Michel Louvain, with whom my father spent only forty-five minutes; not the one issued by Dr. Andre Rousseau, where he spent two sessions of four hours each of tests and conversations. In the same appeals report, we found out accusations that had been supposedly presented to the courts and in the files, yet we had never even heard them nor had they ever been discussed in court. (For example, Caroline had complained that Corinne had grabbed her by the hair and banged her head against the wall.) From August 30 to September 12, Despot called every single day to try to get Christine and Catherine. During that time, neither of them was ever home, except Camille who was sometimes there. September 12, they finally came home. This made us think that the mother either prostitutes them somewhere or sends them to work which permits her to take vacations and leaves from her job and hardly work. This fear made us purchase a telephone voice changer and introduce ourselves as Ms. Tiffany of Catholic Charities, asking her if she needed help. Mrs. Despotovic jumped at the occasion, which permitted us to find out that the children had no clothes and needed everything, that the week prior to this she had not worked all four days of her shift, and that this week, she had only worked two of the four. Her excuse was that her sugar was too high and this prevented her from going to work. Later, she faxed a long list of all the clothes the children needed, as well as an estimate of the repairs needed to fix her car to a toll-free number that "Ms. Tiffany" gave her. This permitted us to find out as well that the landlord had given them until September 30 to move out. They were in a big crisis, without money, and had not found a new place to move to. A few days later, we bought over $600 worth of clothes for the children and sent them the first package. None of this gave us enough information as to how the children were doing. September 24, instead of appearing in court, we rented a mini-van and parked it in front of the house very early in the morning. We did this with the hope that they would all leave for court that morning and we would better be able to see how they were relating. Despot talked to Caroline September 26, at 11 p.m. She complained to him that she was still looking in the paper for an apartment, that no one would rent to them, and that they had no money to rent one. She insisted in knowing where we lived, what kind of car we had etc. The next day, September 27, they found the solution: Caroline went to court and said that she saw Despot, Corinne, and I driving around their house at least 10 times the day before and that they were scared. That is how DCFS pulled out their checkbook, wrote out a check for a new apartment, and by September 30, they were all moved. That was their fourth apartment in 3 years. Just before she left, "Ms. Tiffany" called and told her that a second package of clothes was ready to be sent and Renee gave us her new address at Byron Street where we should send it. The evening of October 1, we drove by the new address at Byron. We saw all four girls out on the street in front of the apartment building. They saw us as well. In divorce court, one outstanding matter remained. According to the divorce decree, Renee was to sign over the title of the van to my father several years ago. Attorney Teresa Cekov finally filed a complaint with the court. A court date was set for the end of October. Two days before the court date, Mrs. Cekov called and apologized for sending us the wrong date, telling us that court had been today, and that my mother, even though she had the right date, had not been present. Ten days later, she called us again, telling us that the judge from that courtroom had called her saying that my mother had stopped in there and had signed over the title to the van. We found out the truth on this matter only two and one-half months later: The day of court, Mrs. Teresa Cekov personally met with my mother and sister Catherine. All three of them talked, and that same day, in front of Mrs. Cekov and the judge, my mother signed over the title to the van. The whole goal of this comedy was to avoid any means of contact between my father and mother, so that there would be no chance of either of them communicating. They were afraid that they would somehow get back together. Their entire comedy over these last five years with divorce and everything with the children would fall apart. Because Caroline went in to court testifying that she saw us driving around, an emergency hearing was set for October 22. A few days before that we sent a letter to the judge. The day of the hearing, no one wanted to talk and the court date was continued for December 13, giving them enough time to think. As usual, DCFS caseworkers, Ms. Brenda, and Public Guardian Jim Burton encircled Renee and the children. Jim Burton asked the girls if it was okay with them to put their father in jail for 28 hours. They were afraid that the children would get closer to us and that they would pass as fools for all these years. In November, Jim Burton sent us a copy of the letter he sent to court. He asked the court to fine my father, $500 and put him jail for six months, because October 1, we drove by the apartment building where the children were. It was certain that this Mafia head was trying to get the court to deviate to matters that hold absolutely no importance, instead of taking care and asking about the downfall of the children (as he later admitted ---see audio clips). In Court 56, during Catherine's hearing, Mrs. Tyson asked for more information from the judge regarding Catherine's case, but the judge refused to give it to her. Mrs. Tyson told the judge that as the attorney for the father, she had a right to know. The judge replied that she could not give her any information.
The turn of events, again, left us no doubt that serious things were occurring with the children. The only solution was to find out what was happening in their home. With an amateur set-up, we installed some microphones and transmitters in a boom box, and Despot delivered it and some other gift for his sisters at their apartment. His sisters welcomed the CD player/boombox, and our system worked really well. Next to their building, we parked an old car, and in the trunk, we placed two large car batteries, a laptop, and a receiver. Every few days, we would switch out two fresh batteries and would pick up the recordings. A little by little, we got a picture of their family relations and came to conclude a sad reality. The children no longer went to school. There were very violent disputes in the home and the children rarely slept at home. Behind their backs, their mother would call DCFS caseworker Denise Alvarez, complain about the children, and ask her to send them to boot camp. Friday, Renee called Denise Alvarez and told her that Christine had not been home since Monday. She adds that Camille left to go find her Wednesday, but she has not come back since either. Saturday morning, the police came to the house. A few days later, Renee gave the police report number to Denise Alvarez. THEREFORE, DCFS WAS AND IS PERFECTLY AWARE OF THE PLUNGE OF THE CHILDREN, BUT THEY CONTINUED TO COVER UP THE WHOLE AFFAIR IN FRONT OF US AND IN COURT.
November 23, Camille had a fight at school and was found with a knife in her pocket. Though she never took it out or threatened anyone with it, a file was opened with Delinquency Juvenile Court. All of this information grew to be too much. The CIA, who knew what we were doing, could stand it no longer and had to intervene. The first part came from DCFS worker Denise Alvarez. She went to their house, and when Catherine showed her the nice new CD player system they had gotten from their brother, she advised them to call the police and declare it. The week after, the first few days of December, she brought them Christmas gifts, a tree; everything needed to decorate it, clothes, a few other things, and a brand new CD player. (Why another if she saw the first?) (The year before that, the children did not receive even a piece of candy from DCFS.) CLICK HERE TO HEAR A PART OF THE CONVERSATION (UNDER CONSTRUCTION). In the short time that we had a chance to hear what was happening with them, we caught a conversation where DCFS offered new therapies for the children. The mother, angel-faced, told the girls, "Dear, Mom wants you to be good and go to school," like a good Mom. Two days later, coming home, Catherine told the mother, "I didn't go to school, I went to work. I earned twenty dollars." The mother said, "I don't have any money to go to work, GIVE IT TO ME!!!" Catherine responded with, "But Mom, he gave me two tens." The mother did not care though, and took the full twenty dollars.
The night of November 24, we went to switch out the batteries, and parked in Albany Street, one-half block from the children's apartment. Instead of my brother and I going to switch out the batteries, as usual, because of a strong feeling, my father sent only Despot. By prudence, we drove away and re-parked on Byron Street. A few seconds later, a police car sped past us, turned on Albany Street, and stopped right where we were a few instants before. We saw that they were trying to trap us, especially since Despot was still under an arrest warrant. We started our car and picked up Despot. At the same time, another police car came straight onto us from Kedzie Street. They were annoyed as we passed them, because they realized they had missed us by a few seconds and there was no excuse for them to stop us now. Three nights later, only my father and I went. We quickly picked up the batteries and computer; but one block further, the police barred the road. A car of detectives parked sideways across the street. A second police car pulled up behind us. I do not know if it was they or we that were stuck, because after that, they did not know what to say and just stared at us. I was the one that finally lowered my window and asked, "How do we get out?" They got out of the way and let us leave. This whole story was not enough for them. They finally pierced one of the tires on the side of the car we had parked there, then issued a ticket for $75.00 on December 19, 1999 (see picture) for car abandonment, and then wrote on the side of the car "City of Chicago, to be towed." They had no reason to do this, because the car had a special dealer license plate, the cut tire was replaced, and we changed the car’s parking spot at least twice a week. This listening system enabled us to find out Renee's new telephone number. She had changed it so that Despot could not call his sisters and lose contact with us so that we would not know to what point she had abandoned the children.
After we arrived to do our shopping in the Yugoslavian neighborhood (two blocks from where the children live), we were immediately surrounded by several police cars. Whether they planned to arrest us or not, we do not know, but they did try to scare us. We had a hard time believing this, so we tried this experience again, Saturday, the 27th. This time, we did not even have a chance to get close. Next to us, there was a police car and another plain detective car, barring the road ahead with lights flashing. We had to stop, and Corinne opened her window and plainly asked, "Sir, how am I supposed to get out of here now?" They exchanged a few glances, and the detective car backed up and let us keep going. We understood that serious things were happening, but they were afraid we would find out. November 29, Monday, we went down to Chicago Police Headquarters to get copies of police reports. For 1999, one report after another was brought before us. There were eight of them. For 1996, there were 21 of them. 1997 and 1998 were being researched. We were told that Caroline filed a report for battery in 1998. Battery by whom? The pimps of Chicago, or the mother? The number of reports was to exceed 40. We stepped away for a minute to call home. On our return, the woman was shaking, all the reports sitting on the counter had disappeared, and in a trembling voice, she said she was sorry, but she could not give us any reports. Had she read one of the reports and found something terrifying, or had she gotten a call from her superiors telling her to not give us a thing, we do not know. However, the children were absent from school a great deal, and more than 40 police reports had accumulated for them for the last few years. The three girls, aged 13, 14, and 15 were heading towards prostitution in Chicago. Yet, the Department of Children and Family Services of Chicago and Juvenile Court covered up the story completely. The supposed "defender of children" James Burton threatened my father with jail because he was informing himself on the truth to which depths they had sunk the children. Coincidence or not? For the past few months, ever since we had started watching the children very closely, our business on the Internet took a plunge, even our firmest customers.
After one of the conversations between Catherine and Despot, Catherine decided to call me. The first contact in a long time being established, I went up to Chicago where Catherine, Camille, and I dined at a restaurant. That same night, Catherine and Camille decided to come with me and visit our home in Indiana. That first night, everyone was happy. We were all holding back somewhat ---- four and one half years of separation had a definite effect. The next morning, everything changed, and we all acted as before. "Papa, Baba, Coco, Dede, Cathy, Mimi," were heard in the house. Everyone was happy and joyful. The memories of their happier childhood were too strong to be forgotten. Hide-and-seek was played between the attic, the first, second, and basement floors, from the front of the house to the back --- the house came to life. They found their old toys they used to have, and did not know what to do first --- between computers, games, chess, piano, guitars, and everything else, all took its turn. Catherine and Despot redecorated the Christmas tree to their liking, and I was glad to oblige. However, taking a picture horrified them. The second or third day, they decided that they wanted to stay with us. We called Mrs. Tyson and another independent attorney. Catherine was under court probation and was afraid that the courts would find out she had come to visit the father. They finally decided to go back to the mother, promising to come back to us as well. Little by little, the children relaxed. They talked and talked. We were shocked, and more than once we were left with our mouths open. The mother still was not looking for them, nor did it bother her not knowing where the children were. She was too used to the children not being there a week or two at a time, and used to them being with another mommy who fed and gave them a place to sleep. All of this, under the watch of DCFS, while they confirmed to us that the children were doing well. Little by little, we began to see to what point the children had been left to themselves for several years. Catherine had been put in jail six times already for breaking her probation rules. The girl with whom Camille had gotten into a fight with at school pressed charges. Though Camille never took out the knife or threatened with it, her court date was set for January 4. She did not think herself guilty in the fight, and was afraid to go to court, so she went to hide out at Ms. Cathy Lopez's (mother of three children) apartment. Ms. Lopez's works for the Chicago Police Department and her husband is in jail for murder. In the past, she had frequently sheltered the girls for a week, two, or more. In the beginning, we thought we had to thank this woman; however, later we learned that she offered her rooms to the three minor girls and in the process took pictures of Camille while she was naked in bed with a boy. Since Camille was not present in court January 4, the mother finally began to question her whereabouts as it had been weeks since she had not seen her. Catherine had to admit where Camille was. Thus, the mother, accompanied with several police officers, ended up at Ms. Lopez's apartment. After a short struggle, the police accompanied the children with their mother to the bus stop. On their visits, we bought Catherine and Camille clothes when they had nothing on them. They did not get along with the mother and they would spend the night at a friend's house here or there so that they would not have to go home. For a while already, they had not been to school. We bought them a cell phone and gave them the key to the little Toyota that was parked in front of the mother's apartment so that they could hide their clothes, phones, etc., without the mother taking it from them. (Catherine lost this car very quickly. A friend of hers stole it.) Two or three times a week we would go up to Chicago, and despite the freezing cold and snow, they would not want to go home to the mother, even if they were starving. As an example, we would take them out to eat Friday night, and they would admit that they had not eaten anything since Thursday morning. Day after day, we were shocked. The biggest problem was in contacting Christine, as neither Camille, nor Catherine wanted to take that risk. Christine was under psychotropic medication and out-of-control. We tried everything possible to reach her. We were in Chicago almost every night, and finally, January 21, we faked a "surprise" meeting with her. From a sweet girl we knew as one with a giant heart, we found now a young lady who was crude, with shaky hands, and a destroyed life. Despite the fact that I was aware and braced to face anything, I could not hold back and broke down into sobs seeing my sister like this. Christine was very temperamental, aggressive, fiery, and angry with her father. The mother, the judge, the DCFS workers, and psychiatrists were all here to explain the source of her suffering: the father was the "abuser." (Each time when the child was taken to the psychiatrist hospital, Brenda and DCFS at the registration desk would introduce the case to the doctors as a child who had been abused by the father. The case therefore, started there for all the doctors.) An hour or two later, we finally convinced Christine that Dad was not angry with her and that he would not do anything to her. That is how, with kisses and embraces in the car all the way down to Indiana, the three girls, Despot, my Dad, and I all made it home together. That night, coming home, she was too tired, and after a long night's sleep, the next morning, Christine was completely different. Her day started by teasingly throwing pin-pong balls at my dad, and when he would catch her, it was a big party of laughs, just as it was in their childhood. Camille and Catherine returned to Chicago. They began looking for their own little "interests." Each time we would go up to Chicago, we would see them, give them some pocket money, and take them out to eat. This, however, permitted them to continue to stay out in the streets without ever going home to the mother's apartment. They tried getting Christine to leave us, but she answered, "That's it, I found my house, this is my house, I am staying here always." Day after day, we learned terrible things, and things more than terrible... "Yes, when we were on the big bridge, Pee-wee grabbed my feet, and hung me over the bridge as if he were going to let me fall. I was screaming, I could feel his hands slip on my feet and I could feel myself going... Another friend (26 years old) put a knife to my throat and told me he would kill me if I ever left him.... I was twelve years old when I slept with my schoolteacher. Afterwards, they caught him because he did that with other girls, too. But they didn't do anything to him; they just kicked him out of school... Dad, for four years we've been taking care of ourselves out in the streets... Caroline taught me how to steal cigarettes; she would wait outside for me while I made it through the registers... These bitches from DCFS, Irizarry, Alvarez, and Brenda don't give a damn about us. They don't even come to see us..." This is just a speck of things we learned little by little. Catherine, at age of 15, had worked as a waitress in the Beirut restaurant, 12 to 16 hours a day, and gave all the money to the mother. About two years ago, Caroline was stopped by the police. She was driving without ever having a license, and a gun was found in her car. She just paid the fine, but nothing else was done. We were drunk with all of this, and our minds could not accept that the children had lived through all of this and much more. However, a lot can never be published on an Internet story.
The next court hearing was in February 2000. We informed the court and our attorney Ms. Tyson regarding everything that the children had lived through. This Mafia, however, would not let go. February 29, per James Burton's request, the court announced a strict order that the father could not come within a one-mile radius of the children and that he was not to contact them in any way. They were hot and afraid that the truth would burst out in the open. The most curious of all, is that we were never given a copy of this "strict court order," despite requesting it several times. We took care of Christine, above our means. We took her out, bought her clothes, paid an orthodontist to remove the glue off her teeth from her previous braces, but she refused new ones, etc. She found herself combed and clothed, her hands were no longer shaky, and she no longer took medication. She was almost to the point of giving up her cigarettes, for she smoked only three or four a day now. With her brother, she spent hours on the computers, learning how to use them more and more. Camille was ready to come over and stay with us, as well, but Catherine who was too attached to Chicago manipulated her. Camille came over several times and tried to convince Christine to go back over to Chicago, but Christine refused. It was only at the end of March, more than two months later, that they started to convince Christine over the phone. They told her that they should go visit the grave of a dead friend of theirs, and finally Christine decided to go up to Chicago for a few days. After a few days up in Chicago, she did not come back to us, but spent two weeks at Ms. Lopez's house because she did not want to go back to the mother's residence.
In court, they tried the best they could to close the case. We began writing once more to the White House, senators, the FBI, and many other people. James Burton and DCFS gave a copy of all of the letters we wrote to the judge. In other words, "Don't tell your father anything because he writes the judge everything." The mother, who at the time had not even wanted a cat in the house, started harboring a fish, a cat, a dog, and a rabbit, all of this in one little apartment. Her bedroom was always closed with a big padlock, and when the children wanted cereal or cookies, they had to ask her for the key. Of course, they did not put up with this for long; they just kicked the whole door down. The mother had not given them a key to the apartment, so the girls actually climbed up the side of the building and jumped in through their third-floor bedroom window. When they had friends in the apartment and the mother came home, their friends would jump out of the third-floor window, on to a car garage underneath a ways, and then jump to the ground. The mother locked the windows, so they just broke down the back door. Of course, during all of this time, not one of them attended school. Camille's court case for the knife she had brought to school was closed. Catherine abided by none of her probation rules, and miraculously no longer went to jail. Christine returned to the mother's apartment in April, and she accepted to show the mother and social worker Denise Alvarez where we lived in Indiana. Both, Denise and the mother, fought over who would drive down to see where we lived in Indiana. They passed in front of our house, two floors, and six bedrooms, and the remarks between the two of them were acrimonious. We sent Christine her birthday pictures, using the mother's address. James Burton jumped on the opportunity that, despite the court order, the father sent pictures to Christine --- he has the pictures as proof, and now can put him in jail. We were looking for new targets, and sent letters to Chicago Mayor Daley, the Governor of Illinois, the DCFS Director, etc... Every time, we did this before court. In the court waiting room, we had to keep some distance between us and James Burton and Brenda, because judging by their looks, they could eat us alive. The judge in previous hearings denied the motion that requested that James Burton be removed as Public Guardian of the Children. However, in May, when the mother brought the pictures to court of Christine's birthday, the judge saw Despot's smile on the picture and felt that was enough to show that he was happy. Therefore, he finally closed Despot's case at 17 years of age. Thank God! Because of this complex situation, the police no longer produced police reports for the children. Christine got into a fight with another girl. Two female police officers came to the scene. One was ready to write up a police report, but the other one kept making signal faces at her, so nothing happened. Little by little, the children began to believe that this is how Chicago worked. Camille permitted herself to spit on a police officer and nothing happened. The children no longer went to school and were always out in the street. Despite the fact that DCFS knew all of this, they still tried closing the case with the children remaining in the mother's custody.
June 10 or 11, the mother, along with Caroline and her baby, like every year, left for a vacation in South Carolina. This was a good opportunity for them to once more visit all of our acquaintances in Charleston, "Hi, here we are. The children are fine, they're in school, and my abuser-husband, I don't know about him." However, she left two children of 13 and 15 years of age, in the apartment by themselves, without food. Christine came over to our house, Camille kept watch in the mother's apartment, and Catherine went over to a friend's house. June 18, Christine returned to Chicago. June 19, after a telephone call to the DCFS hotline, at 3:30 p.m., two DCFS workers went over to the apartment, and almost fainted at what they saw. They decided to pick up the two girls and to forcefully take them to a Center. After a small struggle, Christine and Camille yanked free and fled to a neighbor's house. The mother was warned and the next day was back in town. Despite the fact that we requested several times and have a right to receive a copy of the DCFS investigative report, we never received it. Our attorney, Ms. Tyson, avoided the question as well, since everyone in the courtroom is anxious to close this case. This is what we did not want, and once more, we advised the FBI. Our letter to the FBI, mailed July 2000, was either misrouted or falsified, for the response we received from the FBI the following year stated, "In your letter received October 2000….” Finally, the July 7 court date was continued for September. The owner where the mother lived could no longer tolerate them and took them to court. She had to leave the apartment before July 31. Once more, Ms. Denise Alvarez took out her checkbook, and in August, the mother moved.
I was working six days a week, but we were all still taking care of court dates, letters, files, the girls, and our private business. For two years, we had been hosting a very important Yugoslav website. Whenever someone contacted us to be placed on the site, they were at first very interested, then suddenly they would withdraw and we would not hear from them. Deciding to try a different angle, I held a business meeting with CCM Marketing, who was very eager and interested in getting a website. At the end of the meeting, the owner was extremely pleased, found our quote very reasonable, and told me to give him a few days to prepare all of the pictures and text he wanted to put on there. He said his secretary would overnight-mail it to me by that Friday. Of course, one year later, using ridiculous excuses, nothing has yet been done. We then offered FREE web designing to T.T and S.T, two Yugoslav businesses. They accepted our offer very willingly at first, and then we heard nothing more from them at all. Without a doubt, as usual, they were not letting us raise our heads. At all costs, they wanted our situation to be lower than the mother's. As this was not enough, somebody called the Yugoslav radio in Chicago and several churches to better belittle us in front of all the Yugoslavs. Strange things happened at our local post office branch in August, September, and October. We did not know if somebody went to say something to them, if they received a phone call, or something else, but whenever we walked in, the employees would nudge each other with a "look, it's them" look. Each time, they would try to engage in conversation only with us with things like, "Are you going to school? What are you doing? Do you live with your Dad?" We have not excluded the possibility that Caroline with her mother had come down here to create trouble behind our backs once more. The lawsuit I had against my former employer for unpaid wages was still at a standstill. My attorney continued to reassure me that he was taking care of it.
The new apartment that the girls and Renee moved into was #505, located on the fifth floor at 6001 N. Kenmore. The apartment was very small, and they slept on the floor because they did not have beds. DCFS caseworker Denise Alvarez and Catherine's probation officer, Meghan Geraghty both saw this, yet they did nothing about it. Both of them confronted the girls in front of the mother with the fact that they were never home. Catherine, facing the mother, clearly responded, "When you are home, I am NOT. When you are not home, I AM." Once more, they were all witnesses of the tension that existed between the girls and the mother. They still did nothing. The court avoided and delayed the action of picking up the girls. Very irritable, Christine got into another group fight. Following Catherine's delinquency case in Calendar 58, one was opened in Calendar 99 for Christine. In fights with the mother, the girls had a tendency to pull out a knife on their mother. After such an instance, at the end of August, all three of them took refuge at our house for six days. To rest, we barbecued, bought clothes, and lit fireworks. All three of the girls, but especially Catherine, were very afraid that the court would know that they spent time with us. The brainwashing and the "psychiatric therapy" that the children had been through had left much deeper marks than we had first expected. When we tried to recall childhood memories with them, even the most obvious and marking, they remembered nothing. It was as if everything had been erased from their memory. They left our house with brand new clothes and the old mother's underwear that the girls were wearing as their own stayed with us. Since Public Guardian James Burton said we were lying about the girls coming over to our house, my father took the opportunity and sent him the 3 underwear. The September court date was continued for October. At the end of September, however, Renee had already received an eviction notice telling her to leave before October 31.
The mother, who in the past proudly told the girls that she did not restrict their friends from coming over to the house, began to allow no one in. This created huge conflicts between her and the girls. That fall, three times we went to go pick up the girls after the mother had thrown them outside. We found them with a blue eye, or a black and blue arm, after "Mom hit me with the half-gallon juice container." One night, between eleven and mid-night, all three of them called us from a payphone after the mother had thrown them out on the street. That night, I could not go to pick them up, but I called the Chicago Police and kept talking to the girls on the telephone so that they would be there when the police came. The police came and 15 minutes later obliged the mother to open the apartment and take the children inside. In order to eat, the girls would open tabs with the little restaurants in the neighborhood. Every time we went up to Chicago, we paid their bills, always with the hope of that being the last time, for the girls would come to their senses and stay with us. We informed our attorney Ms. Tyson each time with all of this. She transmitted this to Public Guardian James Burton. We gave Ms. Tyson a copy out of Christine's diary, in order to show how disillusioned the girls were and how far they were sinking on the streets of Chicago. Ms. Tyson handed this over to the judge, and in full court, the judge showed this copy to Christine. Once more, they were trying indirectly to tell the girls to be careful what they told us, because they would know. Catherine promised the judge to find a job, Christine promised to go to school, and Camille promised to study at home. The judge promised to close the case if they fulfilled their promises. Hoping to take an easy way out, no one took our warnings seriously.
Almost every night, a deluge of friends arrived at the girls' apartment and they partied all night. Chicago Police District 24 could no longer stand to watch this "hotspot" in Apartment 505. At the beginning of December, Police Officer Lager burst in the apartment in the middle of the night and seized cocaine. Catherine was accused, and a new court case was opened up for the end of December. Their "invisible protector" appeared and this case was closed. The girls were happy to win a case against the police. One day, we tested this "protection." We called the Chicago Police Department and reported hearing gunshots from Apartment 505. Not a single police car came, for they knew it was useless to go to 505.
Renee, too, had her court date, which was continued from December to May 1, 2001. During this time, she did not pay rent, but would continue to stay at the apartment. In December, Christine was arrested for not following her probation orders and was jailed for two days. She wanted us to come pick her up when she was released. The jail officials refused to accept this because their records indicated that only the mother could sign her out. That same night, Christine was at our house. She spent almost a month with us, including Christmas. The last week of December, for the second time, we went to the Chicago Police Headquarters and tried to obtain the more than 40 police reports that had accumulated on the children in the last few years. We filled out all the required forms with the supervisor who told us that we would receive a bill in the mail. We should then bring that bill in to pay for it and pick up the reports. Once more, we received nothing. In January 2001, with aggravated diabetes, Renee ended up in a hospital for one week after suffering a heart attack. Christine had returned to Chicago. Once more, we had tried to gather the children back home, but it did not work. The "over-protection" that the girls had benefited from until now had falsified their image of real-life around them. Each time when we tried to explain to them the consequences of their actions, they got upset with us and told us, "Things do not work that way in Chicago." In Chicago, they lived from one day to the next and were unable to think further than that. They liked being in our two-story home, each having their own bed and room, and enjoyed the two televisions, satellite dish, 4 networked computers with cable modems, many other things, and all kinds of food. However, it was "boring " at our house.
With all of the new information we had communicated to the court, things could no longer be ignored. January 24, 2001, in front of Judge Burke appeared James Burton, Brenda, Denise Alvarez, Richard (Christine's probation officer), Meghan Geraghty (Catherine's probation officer), and of course, Supervisor Mildred Irizzary, who was now a married Mildred Cardona. We were not allowed access in the courtroom while each of them "secretly" testified. The judge had no choice but to order custody of the children taken away from the mother and given to DCFS. To that day, we thought we had already seen the entire extent of their comedies, plays, and "made in USA justice." However, what we saw surpassed all imagination. My grandmother and I were surrounded by all of the gang listed above, and were asked to pick up the girls and take them to DCFS. Mildred opposed this, and she said that they would take care of this on their own. My cellular telephone rang and it was the girls who were asking what happened at court. They were waiting at the train station at Thorndale St. Brenda and the others discussed exactly where the station was. They all left immediately and in a hurry to pick the girls up while they were still there. However, as soon as they rounded the corner, they must have stopped at the restrooms, for not a single one of them went to go pick up the girls. That same night, at 1:12 a.m., while Christine was talking to my father on the payphone, we could hear a police officer asking her what her name was in the background. She answered, "Camille." "How old are you?" "14." "And you, what's your name?" "Christine" "How old are you?” "15." "Where do you live?" "Over there." "Okay, let's go, I'm taking you home." Christine told my dad, "Okay, I have to go, the police is taking me home. I will call you later. Bye" We were relieved that night. We kept thinking that they would no longer be out in the streets, but would surely have been taken to a foster center. Once more, we thought wrong, for the girls were back out on the streets the next morning. While DCFS dragged their feet in picking up the children, in an argument, Christine beat up and knocked out the wife of the janitor of their building. This cost her a new case in delinquency court for assault and battery. During this time, Police Officer Lager permitted himself to enter Apartment 505 once more. The mother was present and tried to put herself in the middle. He pushed her to the side as he stepped in and said, "Move over bitch." The police officers were sick of putting up with this "hotspot" which attracted the entire neighborhood, yet, were so well protected that the police could do nothing. Ironically, Renee started looking for an attorney to file a lawsuit against the police. Catherine and Camille were finally picked up and placed in a foster home for just a few days, just the time necessary to give each of them a gift certificate of $550.00 to buy clothes. Since then, all three of them have been picked up by the police several times. They were released without trouble, although all three have warrants issued by DCFS. The police remove the warrants, and two days later DCFS puts in a new one. That is how month after month this game was played. In a new hearing in Court Calendar E, Ms. Toussaint, Renee's attorney, did not show up for court because she had transferred courts. According to Ms. Brenda, her "special services" were no longer needed by the court and she petitioned to be relieved of her duties. Judge Burke accepted. Everyone started to get hot and see that this case was turning sour and preferred to wash their hands of it. At this time, we still did not know that the FBI had started to investigate. DCFS refused to open their files without a court order. This FBI investigation did not trick us, for it had been ordered by Washington, D.C. Do you know why??? The President of the U.S. has changed. With President Clinton, who was ready to leave for Russia during the Vietnam War, and whose political motivations were always cloudy, the Red Mafia knew that anything could be done, because with Clinton, everything would go through. With the arrival of President Bush, the song has changed. In February 2001, Mr. Robert Philip Hannsen, a very high-ranking person in the FBI was arrested for espionage, which profited Russia. I can guarantee you that in the future, more heads will fall, including the one who has been taking care of our file for over 20 years. Whether it be Ms. Bates, or someone right above her, we are not far from this mysterious person. For a long time now, many people have known that our file is in sabotage. It is impossible to detail all of things that have happened in Yugoslavia, France, and here in the U.S., which we have skipped over as "not so important." In her younger days, Ms. Bates traveled to Eastern Europe. This FBI investigation was ordered for the only purpose of finding only part of the information so that the investigation would go off track and for the file to be closed with a "not important" finding. It would be said, "FBI investigated, but there is nothing. Mr. Despotovic is ill and has lots of stories." I WOULD LIKE FOR PRESIDENT BUSH TO GIVE MY FILE TO SOMEONE TRUSTWORTHY TO INVESTIGATE. IN THE PROCESS, THEY WILL DISCOVER A NEW SPY WITH A HIGH-RANKING POSITION. Despite all of the chaos happening, Calendar 56 decided that the situation was satisfactory enough and closed Catherine's case. Despite the catastrophic situation they were in, the mother permitted herself to take a week of vacation at the end of April and went down to South Carolina with her brother-in-law, who was visiting from France. May 1, Renee left to go live with Caroline and she left all three of the girls to fend on their own in the street and at friends' houses. The three girls traveled back and forth between our home and Chicago. During the girls' stay with us, Christine called Public Guardian James Burton. (You can hear the conversation in the audio recording links.) We were surprised with how well Mr. Burton had known the truth all along. He told Christine, "Your mother doesn't know how to take care of you. Caroline took that role a little in the beginning, and later, Catherine partially did." He admitted their mistakes when Mr. Burton continued with, "We were too busy trying to keep your father away from you, that we did not take care of YOU." Dear reader, this passage may not mean much to you; however, you cannot imagine with what ferocity DCFS accused my father of "never allowing the mother to take care of the children." They said, "The mother is extremely capable of taking care of the children and educating them." They told my father, "Your eldest daughter Corinne should not be allowed to take care of the children. You don't know what you're doing, you have to let the mother be a mother." It was extremely difficult to explain that the mother did not care about the children one bit, and each time my father opened his mouth to explain, he was cut-off. In their minds, it was not even necessary to listen to a "blind dummy," for if he was handicapped of the eyes, he must also be handicapped of the brain. In their minds, the little angels that they had picked up were angelic because of the mother. In their sick narrow-mindedness, it was impossible to make them see anything. Their illusion had to stand up, and it was especially Ms. Dorothy Bates from Washington, D.C. that was the sickest one of all. When Mr. Burton said, "We were too busy trying to keep your father away from you, that we did not take care of YOU," tell me in which country of the world can one be so stupid, as to continue to push away the father when one sees that the children do not have a mother capable of taking care of them, and that they are continuing to go down in the streets with drugs and alcohol? A new case was opened for Catherine after a fight with a librarian. She had a court date at the end of April for criminal trespassing and May 20 and June 14 for threatening the librarian with death. Each time, Denise Alvarez was present in court with Catherine. She told Catherine's attorney that Catherine had a warrant, but did nothing else. June 28, Christine was arrested by Police Officer Lager. He checked the computers, but did not find any of the three warrants that were outstanding for Christine. After this event, we wrote a letter to the Juvenile Court State Attorney Cathy Ryan and the Calendar E State Attorney Gina Crumble-Jones. Attorney Cathy Ryan informed us that all three of the girls had warrants still in effect. A few days later, we received a report from DCFS, which detailed how many times the girls had been picked up and released, as well as two parts that were whited-out so that we would not know. They stated in the report that the children were getting education because the mother showed them a receipt for the correspondence courses she had bought. (The girls never used those courses and were hardly ever home to even see them.) At the end of June, the mother moved into another new apartment. Three weeks later, she asked the girls for money in order to pay for gas and electricity which would be disconnected. The girls are prostituting themselves, are out in the streets every night to sell drugs, and are still waiting for the mother's love --- a love that will never come. One of the girls' main customer, to our surprise, was their sister Caroline with her husband Gill (listen to audio recording). After receiving the response from State Attorney Cathy Ryan, we addressed a letter to five Chicago Police Commanders, telling them about the girls and asking them why they had not been picked up.
During all of these events that were more than frustrating, it is impossible to explain to you everything that happened in chronological order. It would be like an eternal pendulum swinging between the children and other events in our lives that were happening as well. For example, our van, which had now been in storage for years in South Carolina, was still waiting repairs. At the end of 2000, we shipped all the parts necessary for the van to be fixed down South. However, the mechanics refused to fix it, telling us that the van was completely antique, that the batteries had eaten through the casing and were hanging by the cables. They had told us that a few years ago, as well. When we visited the van, though, we thought they had said that as a joke, as it was false. When we called up tire repair shops to fix the tires on the van, they refused to do it even though we would pay them and they did roadside assistance. Someone does not want us to retrieve that van. Since March, Mr. S.T., who owns a car dealership, and I purchased a few cars with salvage titles for us, as well as a few to fix-up and sell to make some money. Just as soon, a Yugoslav, Mr. R….., who is acquainted with us, as well as Mr. S.T., invited Mr. S.T. to dinner during which we were discussed. Mr. S.T. is not the kind of person you can manipulate and he continues to do business with us. To scare him even more, he was surprised with a state inspection at his dealership. The inspectors reviewed all of the “stickers” he had issued, how many and for whom. They warned him clearly that he could only give stickers to people who had bought cars from him and who would be registering them in Chicago, but nowhere else. Of course, this step made it impossible for us to get stickers, obliging us to get plates for every single car in our name, before selling it. Since salvage titles take four to five months to go through the system in Chicago, we registered several salvage titles in Indiana, all very legally. Right after this, Mr. S.T. was contacted by someone who offered to "clean" salvage titles in Chicago within a two-week period for an insignificant amount of money. Someone stole two of the tires of a Saturn car with only 27000 miles that we purchased. The car was parked in Mr. S.T.'s lot and the thief would have had to jump over the fence. Despite the outside ill efforts, our business with Mr. S.T. continued as normal. However, then the East Chicago Police Station refused to perform VIN checks on cars. They said that because of the "new law" all cars have to be taken to the State Police. After calling the State Police, we found out that they do not perform any kind of inspections like that and had no idea why we would have been sent to them. Two blocks from our house is a Sterk's Grocery store. For years, customers would place a car, two, or three, in the corner of the parking lot when trying to sell it. We added one or two ourselves, with two different telephone numbers so that we would not attract too much attention. As soon as we put up a Dodge for sale, someone parked another Dodge exactly like it next to ours, at the same price, but in an almost new condition. Then, within a few days, the quantity of cars multiplied and there were now nine or ten cars for sale. In June, the Sterk's store received a fine from the City of East Chicago because they did not have the right to sell cars on their parking lot. We immediately received a phone call from the management, who apologized and very pleasantly told us that because of this, they could no longer authorize us to park our car for sale on their lot. However, the Sterk’s that is a few miles from that one, on an even larger street, continued to have cars for sale three months later. We had a dozen cars parked in the fenced-in lot behind our house. Someone had fun shooting small pellets on all of the cars, leaving dents all over. From the advertisements we placed in the newspapers, we got several calls from people who were VERY interested, but we never heard from them again --- as if their call no longer rang through to us. In April 2001, a new employment was offered to me by CCM. They were offering me a management position to open a new business in Indiana with an opening salary of more than $40,000. They were pleased that I would join their company, for I was excellently recommended. Almost ready to sign the contract, but at the last moment, the owner of the building refused to lease, with the excuse that he had found someone else. Six months later, the building was still empty. For two years, I had been a manager with Ace Hardware, a 12,000 square foot store. In the year 2000, our store won a medal for Retail Excellence. Out of 5300 stores, ours was in the top 3% for retail management, services, etc… I put in much sacrifice, but little by little, many things at work became "normal." The owner had a small mental problem, and constantly exercised his mental harassment on the employees as well as on me. In March, he hired a new employee, and the owner dreamt of new plans and projections in his mind. I asked to speak to him several times, but he refused all contact. Finally, June 24, I threatened to put in my resignation for July 9, just as he had always wanted "two weeks." June 27 or 28, he offered my position to the new employee, Mr. Ron, and it was accepted. Sunday, July 1, at closing, he fired me on the spot. Monday, July 2, I filed a complaint with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. The person who took my complaint felt that the discrimination was great between female and male, for the owner did not have a right to terminate my employment just after he had offered my position to a man. The Unemployment Office refused to pay me benefits and the EEOC in Indianapolis found nothing abnormal in the case, so they closed it. The case against my former employer for unpaid wages is still with my attorney, and has been waiting since 1997 with no changes. The second week of August, a major fight broke out between Christine and her mother in Chicago. Christine ended up hitting her and leaving the house running. To survive, she continued to sell drugs in the street for food and other needs. She slept at her girlfriend Ashley’s house, but stayed in Chicago. August 13, at 8 p.m., Christine called us in sobs. She had been robbed in the street. At the August 16th court date, the judge decided that the children should “return home.” This meant that the children could be returned home to the father or mother. He removed himself from the case. The next court date was scheduled for February 2002, and would be held in front of a hearing officer. Two and one-half years later, they had FINALLY decided to go back in their steps. Three months prior to this, Public Guardian of the children, James Burton, admitted in a telephone conversation with Christine, that the mother was incapable of taking care of the children. Yet, he did not oppose the judge’s new ruling. The court pretended not to see that the mother prostitutes her minor children. We had sent a letter to five of the Chicago Police Commanders Friday, August 11, asking why the children had not been arrested. Suddenly, in court August 16, the new attorney that was assigned to represent my mother “volunteered” to personally contact the Police Commanders to get them to pick up the girls. We received only two return-receipts from the five letters we sent with that option. The only response that came back informed us that our letter would be transferred to the appropriate district, as the problem described did not fall into their jurisdiction.
The events that had happened within the last few years and the problems that had been caused with the children placed this “gentleman” from Washington, D.C., who orchestrated this whole charade, in an increasingly more uncomfortable position. The effects of his debility and his sabotage of this file have become more apparent. Certainly, he is afraid that all would blow up one day. So that we could not start once more to fax all of the FBI, senate, congress, and other offices, he found it very wise to block our telephone lines. We did not notice this right away. About a year ago, we had purchased one of the newest Panasonic fax machines. It was very difficult to work with it: fax transmissions failed, connections were bad, etc… Every time, we believed that the machine was either defective or poorly programmed, but we had not spent much time trying to fix it. August 23, however, we had to fax 10 sheets to Houston, Texas. We tried many times, looked it over; but at the very most, only the first page would go through. Thoroughly frustrated, we decided to scan the 10 pages and tried to send them from our Cheyenne Bitware Fax software via the computer. For years, we used this software to send thousands of faxes and it never erred or gave us any trouble. Thus, we were surprised. Using either of our three telephone lines, the fax would not go through. In the end, we had to send the fax one page at a time, disconnecting and reconnecting for each. Houston received only 6 of the 10 pages. We started over with the 4 pages, but they received only 1 of the four. When dealing with business, it does not appear very professional to have to try an incredible number of times to send a fax, as it is one of the most basic skills. Despite the difficulties, we still sold several cars. So, they found nothing more intelligent to do than to “slip” us a “customer,” who bought a Pontiac from us. The lady brought her “mechanic” with her to make sure she was buying a good car. We did not even have to open our mouths, the mechanic sold the car for us. We saw that this was some kind of set-up and we waited for the consequences. The owner called us on our cellular phone a few days later, cursing us out and insulting us to the limit saying that our car was a piece of trash. August 29, we received another call, but this time on our home phone line, though we never gave him the number. Our number is non-published, so how did he get it??? The same day, our friend S.T. received a major state inspection at his dealership. Their reason for this bust was due to a report received from a Yugoslav named Blazo who accused them of taking money out of taxes, of doing several other illegal trades, etc… The inspectors would offer their cards to every customer that would come to the dealership, ask them if they had encountered a problem. At the slightest hint of one, wrote out a ticket for the dealership. The inspectors strictly prohibited the dealer to sell salvage vehicles to individuals who wanted to fix them up themselves. Mr. S.T. showed the inspectors a copy of the police reports he had filed against his previous manager who at the beginning of the month had made a complete mess of the paperwork, books, took some papers with him, stole money and fled. These were all curious coincidences, but October 1, they have to be in court, with a very big chance that the dealership will be closed. In the meantime, he had to pay a $75.00 bond so that he would not go to jail. As soon as we had hoped that we could continue this kind of business at home so that I could continue my college and my brother his schooling, once more, our plans fell to the water. August 31, 15 minutes before midnight, Caroline called our home and asked to speak to Despot. For more than an hour she spoke, but mainly called to tell us that Christine was pregnant and did not want to have an abortion. She criticized the three girls a lot, but still does not want to admit to herself the truth. It is Caroline, with her mother, who were manipulated and contributed much so that the situation arrived to this point. It took time for her to understand that only Dad could save her three youngest sisters. We knew Christine had been pregnant in June already. We advised Ms. Tyson and Christine promised us that she had an abortion. Caroline only confirmed our feeling that Christine was still pregnant. Christine had been avoiding coming to our house and was cutting short all conversations on the telephone. It was more than obvious that in her mind she had created a plan of having a baby, a husband, and a house, just like her sister Caroline. In her mind, she had found the solution to all her problems. The night of September 9th, Christine and Camille were in the company of a friend named Ashley. In a fight between some other girls, (Christine’s version) Ashley jumped on another girl and beat her and threatened to kill her. In this fight, the police were called and they were all picked up. Camille and Ashley were released that same night. Christine was detained because of her outstanding warrants. Her court date was set for October 4, in Calendar 58. We received a summons telling us that it was MANDATORY for the father to be there?
My father and I visited Christine while she was in jail, though it is rather more of a detention center than a jail. The first time, we were admitted to see her without any trouble. Christine was very happy to see us. In her version, she told us that the police report states that Camille and Christine were present and that Ashley was the one that actually assaulted the girl. Ashley’s court date was scheduled for October 26th in adult court since she is 18 years old. Christine told us that her lawyer offered the following arrangement: Christine could admit she fought with the girl and take one year probation. In exchange, they would close her prior cases for assaulting the janitor’s wife, running away from DCFS, and another prior fight case. Christine accepted this though she didn’t realize that all her prior cases had no substance and very little harm, rather than what she was going to admit doing which she hadn’t done and involved death threats, razor blades, etc… We had hoped to see more truth the day of court. to our deception, the judge only asked her if she admitted it, she said yes, and he accepted the one year probation and scheduled the next court date for October 18. Camille’s attorney pushed her to admit the same thing, but when Camille got in front of the judge, she refused to admit she had done any wrong. The judge then ordered a trial, but because witnesses were missing, the trial was scheduled for November 5. That day, the mother complained to Public Guardian James Burton about the presence of the father in court, but cooled down when she was told that he had to be there because he was the father. Our next visit with Christine was October 6, but this time things were different. We entered with the crowd of 50 other people, but one of the workers admitting parents directed us to Supervisor Mr. Jenkins, pulling us out of line. Mr. Jenkins informed us that we should request permission from the probation officer for me to be able to come with my father when he visits. It was very apparent that something had been brewing, but we were so used to such things that we really did not care. Christine was very happy to see us again, as she felt we were giving her some support, especially since her mother had rejected her. In the beginning, the mother accepted Christine because she figured the new son-in-law would bring home some money, just as had been the case with Caroline. When she learned that this would not be the case, she told Christine to go to a foster home with DCFS, “until you have the baby, then we’ll see.” (At this time, Christine is five and one-half months pregnant.) Christine planned to come straight to our house as soon as she got out of court. Wednesday, October 10th, we called Mr. Richard, Christine’s probation officer so that he could add me to the list of visitors. Mr. Richard, as if he had been waiting for this, jumped with, “I don’t know how your father got in here in the first place. You don’t have the right to visit.” You can imagine what reaction one would get from a young imbecile, who is barely older than Christine, who is supposed to be a probation officer, and has no life experience. In turn, the mother raced to court and demanded that the father be prevented from visiting Christine. October 13, Christine called us and said that she probably would not be released the 18th because DCFS worker Denise Alvarez still had not found a placement for her. It is still too early to tell, but the plan seems to be to place Christine very far from Chicago. She is to give birth in 3 and one-half months. They know she is too immature to take care of the child, and a new business opportunity will be presenting itself. They will find someone to "adopt" the child. As of July 1, I no longer worked. A few weeks after filing my unemployment claim, I was to receive a response, the latest being the end of August. Finally, my appeal date was scheduled for October 16th, three and one-half months later. In our business, things are not doing too well right now. We are no longer selling anything, while others in the same business are still doing well. It seems that in this area, some rumors may have been circulated about us and no one wants to buy cars from us. We have a feeling that some kind of set-up is being prepared right now, but we have no indication as to what that might be. Christine continued to remain in jail hearing after hearing, the only reason that DCFS still had not found a placement for her. My father believed that they were waiting for him to go visit Christine in jail, thus giving them a chance to accuse him of breaking a court order. During our last visit with Christine, we had agreed that the day of her release, she would wave good-bye to DCFS, get in our car, stay with us at least two weeks and then go back to visit Chicago. We wondered why she was still being made to undergo several psychiatric consultations. Finally, she was released November 6th. Today, November 26th, we have not received even one single phone call from her. Christine would normally have called and asked for “three-way connections” at least three times a day using the toll-free number. Christine was always the one to keep us informed on the well being of the three girls. We do not know what method they used to convince her to forget us completely. I am in a depression and my father as well, just thinking about what kind of set-up they could possibly come up with now. Also, all day long we receive phone calls from bill collectors who are demanding payments for bills that we have not been able to pay. November 11th, he made a list for me as to what they might come up with and for what reasons. November 19th was our next court date with the Juvenile Court. My father was convinced that Jim Burton would put in a motion to have my father held in jail because he visited Christine in jail. November 12th we received a phone call informing us that we had to remove a car from where we had it displayed for sale. November 13th, a young man called and requested information for a website. He spoke Serbian, but refused to speak to my father. In our habit, I would have gotten on the phone to speak to him in English. That same night, we went up to Chicago to speak with my grandmother because my father was uptight. November 14th, in the morning, police officers knocked on our door and told us that we would have to remove all of the cars that were parked in our backyard, giving us 72 hours to do so. It was bad, while expecting still that the 19th would be even worse in court. With great effort, we moved all of the cars to other locations. Ms. Tyson called us and we agreed with her to have the court hearing date continued. All together, this delayed our plans to move down South. In our business, things are not doing too well right now. With the attacks against New York, no one is buying cars. As of July 1, I no longer worked. A few weeks after filing my unemployment claim, I was to receive a response, the latest being the end of August. Finally, my appeal date was scheduled for October 16th, three and one-half months later.
Our next difficulty, to darken us in front of our friends and the Serbian community, was that a translator whom we paid in the past for a small $20 translation, called from Yugoslavia to the Serbian Bishop in Chicago to discuss a payment about us and of course to make us look bad as best as possible. The computers from the Yugoslav radio station in Chicago were handled by us. All of a sudden, it became a big problem. Their email and internet connection was suspended because someone used their email account to "spam" a whole lot of people with some porno ads. Because of the loss of emails and internet connection, the station had no way of getting news for the radio show. The blame fell on us because we were supposed to be the only ones with the password. This wasn't the end of it because in Yugoslavia, my Grandfather appears in a newspaper article describing him as old, sick, and abandoned by his family. He then took a copy of that article and sent it to a few churches around Chicago to again make us look bad. |
