Autistic Kids Grow Up...

Christopher DeGroot had autism. Because he reportedly would bolt from the apartment that he lived in with his parents Nicolaas and Agnes, they locked the windows and doors. Because they needed to go do things like feed their horses without their son, they left him alone in the apartment which was secured against his escape into traffic. Their 19 year old son who had severe autism was left alone in their apartment for several hours a day so they could go do chores. In my opinion,leaving a severely disabled man alone in an apartment without supervision is wrongon so many levels. Even if Christopher DeGroot possessed the knowledge of what todo during an emergency, the deadbolt on the door and the locks on the windows precluded any means to get out. And if he was unable to act during an emergency on his own behalf due to his disabling condition, he should have had a (hired if necessary) caretaker supervising him in his parents' absence.

On Sunday May 14th, 2006 the apartment did indeed catch on fire. Two family cats were saved. One firefighter was injured. 77K of damage was caused to the apartment building and stuff inside of it. Christopher, then 19, had to be airlifted to a hospital in Portland, Oregon. The burns covered 80% of his body. He died on Friday May 19th, 2006.

Nicolaas and Agnes reported to the police station as requested for questioning. They were charged with first-degree arson and first- or second-degree manslaughter. (Report of the manslaughter charges differ in degree). The fire was thought to be caused by arson, specifically by Nicolaas and Agnes DeGroot setting fire to paper in the middle of the living room floor and then leaving their son to burn while they left to feed the bloody horses.

Yeah, they had their day in court where they (via separate attorneys) were allowed to Alford plea the charges. An Alford plea means that the defendants admit that the State can prove its' case against them, but falls short of admitting any guilt on the part of the defendants. The original charges were pled down to criminal negligent homicide.

Two people testified that Nicolaas and Agnes De Groot were cool and devoted parents. Nice to their autistic son, caring about his needs, blah blah blah. The judge decided that the parents did not intend any bad vibes when they left their severely autistic son alone in the apartment without any supervision. He sentenced Nicolaas and Agnes DeGroot to six months in the county jail.This is a case that in my opinion should never have been allowed to be Alford plea'd.

Autistic kids do grow up to be autistic adults unless their uh devoted parents kill them.

spike

Parents charged with first-degree arson and first- or second-degree manslaughter:http://democratherald.com/articles/2006/05/22/news/local/news02.txt
http://www.cityofalbany.net/services/news_releases/show_item.php?id=521

Alford pleas and a sentence to six month in the county jail:
http://www.dhonline.com/articles/2008/02/08/news/local/2loc01_jail.txt#blogcomments

Christopher DeGroot
autism
manslaughter

A Murder of Crows - Volume 14

This was the week of the telephone wars. I hate having to deal with creditors because they are in the business to make money, and I am not the personification of money. What’s worse is that there are a few companies out there that are screwing me, and a few of them have been screwing me for quite a while. Like most good businesses, they have been using the “Ivory Tower” approach to keep me from keeping more of my own money. The few of these that have made themselves the most impossible to get a hold of and rectify were on my radar and I just wanted to get it dealt with. Needless to say it doesn’t make your mood any better.

The very first one that I was intent on getting dealt with wasn’t exactly a creditor, but makes its money based on my credit. Experian is the credit monitoring service that always seems to be associated with any bank I try to join, or any credit card I try to get. I have the feeling that they must charge the creditors less and make their profits through extortion of some sort, because in my case, they were so wrong that it should have been easily resolved. It wasn’t, and it became a bit of a family joke over the years. I’m sure that most people would assume that it is just the case of someone that has bad credit and is pissy about it, but I have chronicled my Experian saga {knowing that somehow it would make some good info for others} and am ready to share it. Whether this is truly over or not, I don’t know but will explain that in a bit.

Over the last 10 years it has been very hard for me to get credit anyway because I am poor and I have been divorced a lot. That has been the reasoning that I have used, and figured that it made as good a reason as any. When I moved back to New Hampshire about 6 years ago other things started factoring in, that I couldn’t understand at all. I couldn’t open bank accounts for some reason, and was being kept out of the better credit unions in the area because of my credit report. Two years ago, I finally got a credit report sent to me after I failed to get into the credit union that I had wanted to again, and was shocked at what it said. Of course, here’s where the extortion comes in because YOU do not get the credit report that your creditors do in this free fashion. You get a watered down credit report with innuendo in it, but I was able to deduce a few MAJOR flaws that should have not been in there if THEY did their job. Most importantly was the fact that I had 4 social security numbers according to them. I also had several “Aliases” which included my father and my uncle.

I was furious, and took the several hours that it took to fill out their forms. I figured that the fact that these people that they had me merged with actually existed should have been reason enough to take them off of my credit report, but they obviously didn’t care. Last year I went to get my credit limit increased on my credit card with the credit union that I am a member of, and was denied. More over they took my credit card away from me because from what they deduced from my credit report, I was a fraud. The woman at the credit union was practically in tears having to tell me this because she had seen me come in every week and deposit my check, and confided in me that this happens often. She knew all of the signs of a catastrophic Experian screw up, but was impotent to do anything about it. I didn’t blame her, but I ordered another credit report which had included a few more social security numbers and an uncle that had never lived within 100 miles of me, and when he was within a hundred miles of me I was 8.

They had gone further this time, as they had my date of birth being 1939, and even put in my report that it appeared that I had credit from before I was legal age. A lot of the credit cards I had closed out on bad terms were actually closed the year before I was born. I was incensed and filled out the reports again. I have three children, no wife, a shitty job, no child support, a car that the wheels fall off, a bad back, and a credit reporting agency that is obviously out to get me. Realistically I came to the realization that I am not that important and they aren’t actually out to get me, or anyone for that matter. They simply don’t care if they get it wrong, which is a bit scarier because they are in charge of the credit worthiness of most of America. At that time I was a bit too busy working over time, and trying to get my own life in order with my sick father living with me to try to deal with all of that crap, and I was completely right at the time.

I’m sure that you all have seen the commercials on TV for Free Credit Report Dot Com, which is a wholly owned subsidiary of Experian. By Federal Law {politicians create laws to look busy but never keep track of whether their laws are really being followed} the credit reporting agencies were forced to make it easier to get your credit report. They set up this site https://www.annualcreditreport.com/cra/index.jsp so that you can “Quickly and Easily” get your credit reports and “Fight the good fight” with them. It’s a joke really because if the feds looked at it they would see that it isn’t very good. It will take you to each of the credit reporting agencies sites so that you can fill out their forms, and then they will each give you an erroneous error as to why you can’t have your report. Well I should say why you can’t have it unless you pay them for it. My battle at this time was with Experian so I went to Free Credit Report Dot Com {I don’t actually use the site url because I will NOT advertise for them} and gave them my credit card information, so that I could have my credit report.

This was infuriating to say the least. After extorting me into getting my credit report I looked at something that was amateurish at best. It had my name on it, with a string of aliases including my father and my uncle, as well as two social security numbers that I don’t recognize. It had places that not one of us have lived, and credit cards that I had cancelled many years ago that were just accumulating bounce charges. I don’t blame them for that, but will save that saga for the next blog. As it was Saturday, I couldn’t call and get any of this crap straitened out. In other states you could, but because the law in MY state doesn’t specify that they have to talk to me on a weekend they abruptly hung up on me. This gave me two days to stew over this. When Monday rolled around they wouldn’t talk to me because my credit report from Saturday didn’t have a complaint number on it and I would have to pay another 20 bucks to get a new one. I was abruptly hung up on again.

After getting my complaint number {by going through the cache in my browser … fuck them} I called them back and found no options for rectifying my problem, and was hung up on again for taking too long. I called back {this had taken me 2 hours by the way} and found a spot in the automated number pushing sequence where I could press 0. Now keep in mind that you couldn’t do that on every sequence, so I had to try it on each one, being hung up on with every one that you “couldn’t” use that on. 20 minutes later I was talking to someone, who put me on hold for someone else, who put me on hold for yet another, and another. It was precisely the amount of time that it took for my phone battery to die, but I was smart enough last year to get a cordless with two headsets. The fact that the guy was startled I was still there pissed me off to no end, and he knew it. After another half hour of explaining it to him he stated “Well obviously we have some erroneous errors on your report,” … NO SHIT! I was sent an e-mail confirmation later last night telling me that they had fixed the problems. It will cost me 20 bucks to see if they really had or not. Cancelling my Free Credit Report Dot Com account took a while too as I sat on the phone carousel, but made me feel better because I used a lot of foul language and threats when they tried to talk me out of it. Tomorrow I will hopefully find time to write about Capital One and Sprint. ;8o)

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes& Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of J~ Crow}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy

All writings Copyright © 2008 .. The Crow's Nest

Good Mourning Stupor Tuesday

Teens used to be given ice pick lobotomies. I once knew an old man. He was given one back in the day. He was a rebellious teen. Among other "horrid" transgressions, he smoked cigarettes. He still does. Years wasted on the back wards. Oh bloody hell. Shove him into a group home. The food is better there at least. Here's some more pills. We don't know if you truly would have needed them as an adolescent but you sure do need them now.

Every label is a catch-all. So the labels will keep devolving.



Briefly the nation mourns the fall of another pop icon star into the throes of mania.
Dressing without underwear is grounds for psychiatric imprisonment even of the the rich and infamous. I feel badly for her doggies. I weigh in on the side of animal welfare, not animal rights. I detest PETA and their dog houses for wolves campaign over at Penn's Caves. Evolution, anyone? The wolves came first. They didn't want the dog houses that you forced the owners of Penn's Caves to airlift/drop in. They pissed all over them and tore them up. And went back to their dens which they had carved out of the side of the mountain that is theirs. We have forgotten how to live. My feet have forgotten how to feel the nuances of bare uneven ground. The cane leans against the wall of a hallway. I force my feet to feel. I never gave a damn about the supposed window of improvement after a traumatic brain injury. There are no bars on my windows. Somewhere in a locked ward, a pop star is forced to put on underwear daily. Compliance has its' own rewards. If she is proper and placating and fawning, she may get to pick today's movie. If she becomes invested in the goals you have set up for her, she may get out in ten days.

Devolving from dogs to wolves, from dog houses to dens.



Neuroleptics have helped people to become productive members of society. Some folks who weren't able to work, who were plagued by hallucinations and or other rotten malfunctions of their neurology are now able to work. A few even manage to hold down real jobs, not the legalized poverty of sub-waged existence found in the sheltered workshops or T-projects. "It's better than staying home," the salaried proponents of The System retort. Oh yeah. Warehousing the different is good because society is judged by outward appearances. Shove the disabled out of sight. We the forgotten people-- fat people, people who hallucinate, curse too much, limp, are missing limbs, don't wear proper white cotton underwear, aren't properly happy about our situations-- don't deserve to have a voice. So a charity made up of parents sues an autistic teen for daring to mock it with her own website. These parents think they can speak for us who endure their sterilized tandrums. Some folks get diabetes or T.D. from the wonder drugs. Hard to tell. To weigh the good against the bad. For some folks with frucked neurology, the drugs are very very necessary. For the rest-- bright shiny pills with their empty promises of happiness. It's not happiness that the world needs now. And it's not love. And it's not bunches of parents coming out with bright shiny videos about how we have frucked up the family finances and broken their hearts. If only there was a cure for ignorance. For all of our shiny packaged advancements, we still can't figure out how to live together on this planet without blowing each other up into smithereens.

From grappling with tough stuff to neuropathy and smart bombs.



We need more research. More development. Psych drugs with better profiles, less side effects. The same care taken for psych drugs in clinical trials as is taken for all the others. The same attention to what is judged acceptable when it comes to side effects. What male teenager will greedily suck up any medicine that has "not being able to get it up" as a side effect? Only the truly insane. In the space provided below, list all of the non-psychotropics which have impotence as a side effect that we routinely administer to teens and young adults. Shrinks, first do no harm. Parents, saltpeter calms down raging hormones. Are you insane? We need to stop the guesswork. We all deserve more than that. Genetics, genomes. That is where the future of medicine lies. And once the neuro patients make room in the waiting room for the "psych" patients, we all might be better off. The N.A.M.I. mommies are WRONG. The vast preponderance of their kids do not need to be drugged. We are all wrong. Everything is neurology. Too bad the neurologists can't diagnose worth a damn.

Don't despair, repair.



My friends-locked Live Journal post about the so-called war on Christmas got flagged. Someone decided that my take on the news was an adult concept. Teens should be shielded from grappling with something that was freely available on Google news. Oh for crying out loud! I changed it back just before I put all entries save for this week's into private lockdown. SUP sanitizes the site, Aggregated feeds with advertisements and sponsored content pop into reality on the browser because sometimes we are oh so bored. We need entertainment. We are all excited now as we skate over to Explore Live Urinal. Uh, no thanks. Go sanitize your own toilet. The essay on the so-called war on Christmas can be found on other journal sites where the religious reich hasn't taken over.

I could have been great. Instead I am reduced to dead black words. I too piss on your dog houses.


spike

Once upon a time...

Once upon a time, in a nice little forest, there lived an orphaned bunny
And an orphaned snake. By a surprising coincidence, both were blind
From birth. One day, the

Bunny was hopping through the forest, and the snake was slithering
Through the forest, when the bunny tripped over the snake and fell down.

This, of course, knocked the snake about quite a bit. "Oh, my," said the
Bunny, "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I've been blind
Since birth, so, I can't see where I'm going. In fact, since I'm also an
Orphan, I don't even know what I am."
It's quite ok," replied the snake. "Actually, my story is as yours. I am
Also blind from birth and an orphan. I tell you what, maybe I could
Slither all over you, and work out what you are so at least you'll have
That going for you."


"Oh, that would be wonderful" replied the bunny. So the snake slithered
All over the bunny, and said, "Well, you're covered with soft fur, you
Have really long ears, your nose twitches, and you have a soft cottony
Tail. I'd say that you must be a bunny rabbit."
"Oh, thank you, thank you," cried the bunny, in obvious excitement. The
Bunny suggested to the snake, "Maybe I could feel you all over with my
Paw, and help you the same way that you've helped me."

So the bunny felt the snake all over, and remarked, "Well, you're smooth
And slippery, and you have a forked tongue, no backbone and no balls.
I'd say you must be either a team leader, supervisor or possibly someone
In senior management."

The Show must go on

I can remember the call I received, it was later in the morning. My sister had been trying to get ahold of me for awhile. When she did she was filled with so much emotion, she could barley speak. The news of our Uncle who was in UofM Hospital and with very little time left to what life his body had left to hold onto.
My partner and I had rushed to the Hospital as quickly as we could with our daughter. I got to see Jim, but as sadly as I am to say, it may have been too late. I said my words, to my Uncle.

I couldn't believe that this was happening. My Uncle shared his life with many in the community in the City of Ann Arbor, and I understood that since I was little. I was glad to see him, when I could. He was always there when their was important event in our life.
I have little words left to say that would go the depth of my Uncle. To shed some light onto who my Uncle was, and the difference he has made. I just hope those life's that Jim has touched through the many years of teaching, and directing that those people take this opportunity to pay it forward and treat the next generation as Jim treated everyone.
Every show is still going on, actors are still casting for that one roll to make the difference, and people are lining up to see the show that everyone is talking about. Which is great, as if
everything came to a stop that moment in the hospital, I could hear that the show must go on. For that moment I started to think we were the ones that were passed along.