Columnist Sandy Thompson: No one listened to grandmother’s plea

Sandy Thompson

Saturday, Oct. 4, 1997 | 4:09 a.m.

THE first time she called was in early May.

Her name was Barbara, and she spoke with a soft Southern drawl.

She was a professional woman, which was supported by her tone and manner.

She needed help, and didn't know where else to turn. She had heard about the stories the SUN had done on Family Court and hoped we could help her. More importantly, she hoped we could help her five grandchildren.

Her story was no different than the other calls I have been receiving almost daily since the series appeared.

A divorce. A questionable custody decision. Children living in a neglectful or sorry environment.

Barbara was a grandparent. And all she wanted was information about the health and welfare of her granddaughter and four grandsons.

She lived in Florida; the kids were here.

She had called many agencies, the police and the schools. School officials had refused to give her any information on the grandchildren. "You're not the parent," they told her.

Most agencies told her there was nothing they could do. Then they asked: "Just who are you?"

"I'm the one who cares," she told them.

Everyone she talked to was "short, curt and dismissive."

"Is this just because it's Las Vegas?" she asked me.

Her daughter, the mother of the children, was a Florida teen beauty queen, Barbara says, with a high I.Q. Her daughter loved her children, but their family environment was not great. She says her daughter has bipolar disorder and is manic depressive.

Barbara has three other children, and they all live "normal" middle-class lives.

Her daughter in Las Vegas made a "stupid mistake," Barbara says. She got involved in telemarketing and wound up in jail. The details are unclear. Her release date had been changed many times. Barbara's not sure why.

Her daughter was served divorce papers in jail, and she could not answer them. The father got custody of the children.

He and the children moved around town a lot, Barbara says, and she became concerned about the children's welfare.

She says a 24-year-old man moved in with the father and children, including Barbara's 15-year-old granddaughter. The girl became pregnant and quit school. When Barbara contacted the school in an attempt to have someone talk to her granddaughter about staying in school, she was told: "We have a lot of girls here like your granddaughter." So no one talked to her.

Barbara called me again in July. She politely asked if I had any information.

I could only tell her that her story sat at the top of a growing pile of cases to be looked into.

The problem was that officials are reluctant to talk about these cases. Few even return phone calls.

The demands on my time were growing, and I was having difficulty keeping up with them all. I told her I would try, but there was no new information I could offer.

You could hear the exasperation in her voice. But she was always polite. Her voice was always calm. And she thanked me for talking to her.

The third time she called to say her 9-year-old grandson was living with her. He was eating well, and seemed happy.

A grandson who will turn 14 this month later joined him.

Her two other grandsons, age 6 and 12, stayed with their dad.

A few days ago, the older one turned 13. Barbara said he was the "good kid who didn't give his dad trouble. He was the obedient one. That's why his dad wanted him to stay with him."

And that's what hurts Barbara the most.

She called me Friday to tell me the boy died the day before.

When she last spoke with him, he told her he had strep throat and that his dad couldn't take him to the doctor because they didn't have insurance.

The next morning he just didn't wake up.

An autopsy is scheduled, but the results probably won't be ready for two or so weeks.

"You don't know how hard I tried to prevent this," Barbara sobbed. "Everyone slammed doors in my face.

"We're dying here," she said of her family. The grandson closest to the one who died can't eat or sleep -- or cry.

"How long will it take to undo what's been done to these children?"

To set the record straight, I am not alleging negligence or abuse. I share Barbara's story because it needs to be told -- as she lived it.

It's all too familiar. And that's what makes me angry.

Children do die of natural causes despite the best efforts to prevent it. That may be the case here.

But you also have to wonder: If someone had listened to Barbara and not brushed her off as "just a grandparent," would this boy be alive today?