This File is Titled: MS161290.ASC Text Is Taken From The Mail On Sunday For 16 Dec 1990, p

                  This File is Titled: MS161290.ASC
                                   
   Text Is Taken From The Mail On Sunday For 16 Dec 1990, p10,11,12
                                   
            The Author Is Unidentified for legal reasons.
                                   
 
 
Text Begins
 
I  am  the father of three young girls taken away by  Rochdale  social
workers  in the so-called Satanic Abuse case. You will never  know  my 
name. 
 
That's  not  my choice. On the contrary, I want to shout it  from  the 
rooftops. I want to sign this article, I want to go on television  and 
radio and speak out publicly.
 
I want to clear my name, and that of my family, from all the suspicion 
and  dreadful accusations which have made the past six months  such  a 
nightmare.
 
I want to show exactly why I, my former wife, and our three girls have
done nothing to be ashamed of, and why we hold our heads high today.
 
I  could do it. I have hundreds of pages of court documents  and  tape 
recordings, videos, and affidavits which show not that Rochdale had  a 
weak  case  for doing what they did to us - snatching the  girls  from 
their  bedroom at 7.00am, keeping the middle one, Jenny, from  us  for 
four  months, and accusing us of being wicked parents. But  that  they 
had no case at all.
 
But  I can't. The law will not let me. The law, which is  supposed  to 
administer  justice  and fairness, has failed me and my  family  these 
long and awful months.
 
Guarded Doors
 
Last  Monday was supposed to be the end of it all. We had  been  given 
hints  that  after fighting so hard (our lawyer told us  that  he  had 
never  known  a case prosecuted with such zeal) Rochdale  was  finally 
going to admit defeat.
 
We  were told that they would not offer any evidence, and would  agree 
that  there  was no reason whatsoever that the girls  sould  still  be 
wards  of court, or that their social workers should play any  further 
part in how we live our lives. But until it happened, we dare not  get 
our hopes up.
 
I met my former wife on the steps of the High Court. I could not  have 
gone through this without knowing we stood together for the girls.
 
We  sat  together  in  the wood-panelled  courtroom.  The  doors  were 
guarded. No outsiders were allowed in. The case had been scheduled  to 
last six weeks, but they dealt with our children first.
 
I  can't  tell you what happened in the 40  minutes  after  Rochdale's 
decision not to go on with our case. 
 
Nothing had changed in the months Jenny had been in that home. No  new 
evidence had emerged. But only now after this painful and  unnecessary 
delay  was our daughter being returned to us. I hoped that  the  judge 
shared our concerns.
 
I sat there in a cold sweat thinking how close we had been to  loosing 
our Jenny forever. From the time she was taken from us to her eventual
returning  home was more than four months. For much of that time,  she 
did not even know if we were alive or dead.
 
We  were  not allowed to write or phone, or even know where  she  was. 
I've  been  told in Lancashire that once a child has been in  care  in 
such  circumstances for six months, then it becomes  irrevocable,  and 
that there is no realistic alternative to adoption.
 
In 40 minutes we were outside the court again, free at last. Our first 
feeling,  of  course, was one of overwhelming relief that it  was  all 
over.
 
But sweeping over all that was my bitterness and anger. form my family 
the injustice continues.
 
Let me go back to the beginning and explain why.
 
I'm  an electrician. It was on June 14 when I was called off a job  to 
the office to take a phone call. I could hardly take in what they were 
saying.  Apparently my three children had been taken forcibly from  my 
ex-wife's  home  that morning by a team of social workers  and  police 
officers.
 
Crying for Mum
 
I dropped everything and raced to my old home. There was no-one there. 
 
I  went to the Rochdale Council offices, and finally I was taken to  a 
room  where a senior social worker confirmed that indeed the  children 
had been taken into care under a place of Safety Order. 
 
I asked him: "Why? What has happened to them. Have they been  injured?
Are we supposed to have ill-treated them?"
 
To every question he answered the same: "I'm sorry, for legal reasons, 
I cannot comment."
 
I  then  went  round  to the police station.  They  were  a  bit  more 
forthcoming, but not much.
 
One  of  them  asked  me: "What do you  know  about  black  magic  and 
Satanism?" I was at first puzzled, and then angry. Were they crazy?
 
Later that day my wife told me what had happened. She woke to find the 
police  standing  in her bedroom. The social workers  were  next  door 
telling  the  girls to get dressed. They didn't even  know  about  the 
youngest one, and they didn't have a magistrates' order for her.  They 
took her anyway.
 
The  girls  were  crying, and shouting for their  mum.  Then  the  CID 
started going through the house. 
 
She  asked  what  they were looking for,  and  the  policewoman  said: 
"anything to do with black magic."
 
My  wife  burst out laughing. The policewoman said: "Well if  you  can 
laugh about it, you have nothing to worry about."
 
The papers later said the police had found "video nasties." Not in our
house, they  didn't. We would never allow them. They took  two  videos
away: Sleeping Beauty and Ice Dancing At The Olympics.
 
That  night  we got a phone call from the Social Services.  They  said 
they would be bringing Carole, the 15-year-old, and Mary who was  only 
six, back home. But they were holding on to Jenny.
 
"Why?" we asked.
 
They wouldn't say.
 
Carole was in a terrible state. She told us a social worker had  taken 
her  into a room and questioned her over and over again in front of  a 
video camera. She had gone on and on in the most horrible detail about 
her boyfriend. How far did he go with her?
 
Carole  was  crying.  She told us: "Please Mum  and  Dad,  promise  me 
something. You will never look at that video. I'm ashamed of it."
 
Mary just wanted to go to sleep.
 
Wall of Silence
 
Two  days  later,  the injunction arrived. The  local  newspapers  had 
picked  up the scandal story of black magic and Satanic rites  on  our 
estate, and we were warned we could not talk to anyone about what  had 
happened. We couldn't go to the local councillor, the papers, or  even 
to a priest. We would go to jail if we disobeyed the order.
 
That was the worst of the bad times. My wife could not sleep.  Neither 
could  I.  I  went through the day with such a knot in  my  stomach  I 
thought  I  was going to be sick. I went to the  doctor  for  sleeping 
pills. They did not help.
 
We  had  no  idea where Jenny was. Was she in a  home?  Had  she  been 
fostered? What were they telling her? What did she think of us?
 
Her  little sister spent the whole time in tears. She would not go  to 
their  bedroom  alone. She slept on the sittee,  pale  and  exhausted, 
until her mum went to bed so she could cuddle up with her.
 
We'll both be eternally grateful to what the Mail on Sunday did  next. 
You  went to court and fought for us, and demanded the right to  print 
at least some information and gradually that wall of silence began  to 
break down.
 
I found out how it had all begun. There was a girl Jenny vaguely knew. 
She  lived  a few doors away. She had told a  social  worker  stories. 
Stories about ghosts, and fiery crosses, and babies being eaten alive, 
and digging up Rochdale cemetery at night.
 
But  they believed her. She told them she had been locked in  a  cage. 
She  was a princess dressed in pink. She was given a white drink.  She 
had to do things for the ghost. Her puppy had been chained up  outside 
the  cage,  in case she said no. They asked who else had been  in  the 
cage. She named our Jen.
 
That's  what they came with that morning at 7am. Only that. The  story 
of  a  little girl, who was pressed and cajoled and  encouraged  by  a 
social worker we will never forgive.
 
The  social  worker, like so many in that department,  had  heard  all 
these  stories from America about Satanic Abuse and believed  she  had 
found it in Rochdale. From that moment until last Monday, they  sought 
every bit of evidence they could to justify what they did to us.
 
They found nothing because there was nothing. They tried. God how they 
tried!  If I was free, I would show you the transcript of how  one  of
them, from the NSPCC, tried to get Jenny to tell her stories.
 
She  later told us it had lasted for 40 minutes. She said by  the  end 
she  was  so  upset and crying for it to stop, that  she  elbowed  the 
social worker in the ribs.
 
I  would  like to show you the video too, which Rochdale  should  have 
produced in evidence. Except they lost it. Or at least they said  they 
did. I believe it was so embarrassing for them, they had on choice.
 
Point the finger
 
Then  they started backing off. The council's social director,  Gordon 
Littlemore,  issued  a Press statement saying the  council  had  never 
mentioned  Satanic  Abuse. That's untrue. I have evidence  that  those 
very  words  were  used  by a member  of  Rochdale's  social  services 
department. If he sues me for libel, I will produce the evidence.
 
Finally they have given us Jenny back. With not a word of apology  for 
how they have wrecked out lives.
 
They justify their actions by saying that such things must be  private 
and  confidential. They have thrown their injunctions around,  in  the 
name  of  protecting our girls, but of course everyone on  our  estate 
knows the girls and what we have been accused of.
 
I  know many people have been saying there is no smoke  without  fire. 
Surely  Rochdale would not have gone on and on, unless there was  some 
justification  for keeping our little girl from us? But I  don't  just 
know it isn't so - I can prove it.
 
But  who  is  going to help me now? The Mail on Sunday  can't.  I  was 
prepared to give this newspaper all Rochdale's case, then people could 
see  how  appallingly we have been treated. But it won't  happen.  The 
Editor  says that under the Administration of Justice Act 1960  it  is 
contempt  of  court  to  print  anything  relating  to  wardship 
proceedings.
 
My  lawyers  have  further warned me about a case with  a  fancy  name 
called    In  Re W., which means I cannot tell you  about  the  expert 
witnesses like the child psychiatrist who was so against Rochdale,  or 
why  my own QC told me the social worker's interview with  Carole  was 
"the worst thing he had ever seen'.

What is going on here? Elton John gets 1 million damages from the  SUN
because  of  the lies they told about him. But what about me?  I  care
about  what my mates at work, my neighbours, the pub, the corner  shop
have been saying.
 
Yes,  some of them have been pointing the finger behind my  back.  Now
that  we  have  been cleared, what do we get?  Because  of  the  Press
restrictions, a couple of lines of the Manchester Evening News  saying
three  children in the Rochdale Satanic Abuse case have been  returned
to their parents.
 
I  haven't even been given my day in court when I can tell my side  of
the  story.  No, it appears I must now continue my  life  with  people
whispering "The Satan Dad", when every word of it is a lie.
 
This  isn't a fairy story. This is real life. Much as the judge  would
like to pretend otherwise, we can't now live happily ever after,  with
everything forgiven and forgotten.
 
Unhappy at School
 
 
Jenny has her problems. How can it be otherwise? She was 11 years  old
when she was dragged out of bed. She was put into a home. She has been
in  four  schools  in five months. She was given dolls  and  asked  to
describe  what had happened to her. She hates that social  worker  now
with a hatred which will last always.
 
But she met kind and loving people too. She had other children in  the
home she now misses. And there was at least one social worker who will
always  be  our friend. She called round yesterday and  asked  if  she
could take the girls for a Christmas McDonald's. Of course she can.
 
If only they had listened to her and not their fancy experts and their
own prejudices it would never have gone on for as long as it did.
 
Jenny doesn't like going to her new school. She has no friends  there.
She pleads headaches and stomach pains. I think she needs help. I went
to  the  school to talk about it. Her teacher was off  sick,  but  the
deputy head says only a few people in the school know, and they  could
cope.
 
Young for her age
 
But  the other day at dinner, one of the kids looked at her and  said;
"You are the girl from a home, aren't you?"
 
Before all this happened, my Jenny was, if anything young for her age.
She has come back an old eleven-year-old.
 
I  am  not stupid. I know girls of this age change for  all  sorts  of
reasons.
 
I only wish her own mum and dad had been around when it happened...and
not  the  strangers  and meddlers and "experts"  whom  we  will  never
forgive.

Text ends.

E-Mail Fredric L. Rice / The Skeptic Tank