Family Attack
This is quite a difficult story to write because of the implications against my immediate family and the serious intent to do us harm. During my divorce to Darrell our daughter suffered from sexual abuse inflicted at the very young age of three.* The way he manipulated his way out of that situation using the Phyper’s support and his family money, I knew I would always have to be on guard. I understood my immediate family would always be in danger of being torn apart and we made great effort and sacrifice to keep this from happening.
As time passed I hoped the unspoken vendetta against us would lessen, perhaps even die out. I wanted to believe that time does heal and those who were serious about inflicting those wounds would finally let us live in peace as a family the way I always wanted. I was, after all determined to live my life without them, to let them be who they were in their own world, living as far away as possible. As it turned out moving to Mars would not have been far enough.
I could not appreciate the situation clearly at the time because I did not understand the reasons for their need to destroy me and my family. I still did not know who I was, therefore I could not accept the lengths they were willing to go to in order to accomplish their task of keeping my memories buried.
It was spring 1998 when our family was attacked with a harshness we did not expect. We had just arrived home from shopping, the children would be home from school any minute. Unpacking the groceries we were surprised upon answering the door to be greeted by a man from Social Services. He stated he was here to investigate allegations of domestic violence and child abuse. You could have knocked me over with a feather, I was so shocked at what he was saying. We had no choice but to let him in and give him our undivided attention. We tentatively welcomed him into our home, uncertain of what to expect, but of course anxious to straighten out this mess.
While I was making coffee the children arrived home, anxious to tell us about the man who came to visit them at school that day. On entering the kitchen they saw the same man sitting at our table. Safe to say all of us were surprised, taking in this new and very upsetting information. We had to send the children out of the room once they had said their greetings and got their snacks. They would not be allowed to sit with us while we discussed these new events. I was quite upset learning this man had taken our children out of school without our permission, but was told this was standard procedure in cases of this nature. A sense of personal violation became my focus, being a similar sensation in being forced to participate in certain acts when I was younger.
After all these years I cannot recall everything that transpired during that meeting, but I know we had to answer many personal questions about our activities as a family, and I had to explain I was not a beaten housewife, and not restricted to the house. That Patrick had been accused of taking Colby by the throat and choking him truly shocked me, and it shocked Colby when we later told him. It is a terrible feeling to realize anyone could accuse us of such things in todays world without consequence when the allegations are proved false, as these were. I am still astounded by this reality.
Whoever made the allegations about what was supposedly going on in our home would never be named, their anonymity assured, despite the social workers ultimate satisfaction all claims against us were false. It is a truly helpless feeling realizing someone could attack our family without having any option to fight back. This is something that follows for the rest of your life, the information going from school to school as a precaution. There is no way to erase false allegations and make them disappear, yet the people responsible for creating this storm walked away Scott free. I truly could not believe the system was to once again make me, make us, victims. I immediately suspected The Family and Darrell working together, and possibly one neighbour who was a little mentally unstable.
John Tilley probed into the corners of the accusations hoping to uncover some hidden secrets, but our open and transparent acceptance of his need to dig surprised and disarmed him. We freely shared the relevant details of our lives with a genuine candor which soon laid his concerns to rest. I believe his first objective upon entering our home was to determine if anyone was to be removed from the household for their personal safety.
He could see within the first few minutes that absolutely everything said against us was a lie. His interviews with the children also gave no cause for concern. The balance of our visit consisted of a friendly chat over cake and coffee. Of course this also could have been part of his interview technique to determine if we were putting up a front to see how long we could maintain it, but as the conversation turned into a general discussion the safety and interaction of our daily life with each other and the children was no longer in question.
We also made it clear to him we would pursue, by whatever means necessary, the steps required to obtain a full copy of the report once the case was closed. We did successfully acquire this report which was no simple a task, and include in part the documents here, making it public for the fist time.
The entire affair the children thought ridiculous, also angry realizing the possibility of their father and/or my family‘s involvement. It was something we of course discussed at dinner time, all of us wondering who would do such a thing, and why. It was hard not to see the possibility Darrell and the Phypers were behind the attack. They were the only ones to gain from such an act. This was truly an eye opener for the children as we digested the implications of what this family was willing to do in order to control me. I think they actually believed they could once again regain the control they once had over me, me knuckling under and never again to surface.
Curiously, Ellen came back into my life shortly after this incident. Once the dust had settled she made contact. They were apparently building a house on some property up the lake from Creston. I did allow her into our world for a short time to better weigh the situation, soon realizing nothing had changed between us and never would. I said goodbye, knowing there would be no more Phyper family in my life ever again.
Several years later (after the three children no longer lived at home) I received a letter from Ellen filled with bizarre accusations such as me being on drugs, being mentally unstable, walking around unkempt with greasy hair etc. all of which only confirmed in my mind she had much to do with the events in Creston a few years prior. These new allegations were strikingly similar to those the social worker John Tilley presented to us. Now the children were no longer under our roof she seemed strangely compelled to threaten me in order to keep me away from them, unless of course I surrendered my relationship with Patrick and Lucas. If I left them I would be allowed to come back to The Family.
Having already failed in many attempts to split our family unit we were concerned the next effort would be more direct and with greater consequence. I believe in order to keep everyone in the situation safe this was why we made the decision to allow the children to choose where they wanted to live.
The time had come. I had ultimately arrived in the place without choice. Rheann was determined to leave and rejoin her father in Calgary, her unhappiness since moving from Creston all too apparent. We were prepared for Josh’s departure, having gently guided and assisted him for a number of years for this opportunity to receive a formal art education at university in Lethbridge.
But Colby was a different matter altogether. He loved the Slocan valley and his mates from school, but I believed at the time he also wanted the opportunity to enjoy the Calgary lifestyle. It was a tantalizing carrot to dangle, one I could not fault him for wanting to experience. However, it was not long after leaving we realized he was perhaps not so happy about his choice, expressing the desire to come back and live with us after only a short time with his father.
Their decision to leave opened the door for us to travel more, presenting the opportunity to launch an art publishing company, and with the wheels now in motion Colby’s interest in returning was more complicated. Had they stayed we would have chosen differently.
There was no way for us to explain the tangle of reasons for this great transition in all our lives without telling them things we felt they were better off not knowing. So we took the hit and moved forward, one step at a time, one day at a time, sadness trailing behind as we made our way, always watching for signals they would one day see the truth. Once again I found myself in a position of torment.
Instinct had always been our infallible guide and once again this inner knowing was the overarching influence in guiding our decision. Choosing for their safety we agreed to let them leave. Whatever choices we each made would determine our paths for the foreseeable future. It was in their best interest to let them go, have their own lives, make their own way. I will never lose the hope they will be part of our lives once again.
Meanwhile there was Lucas, standing on the sidelines as our family fragmented before his eyes and nothing he could do. For all the struggle we endured over the years to protect and keep them with us in order to minimize the caustic influence of The Family, here we stood at the very end of our road together. What would unfurl from here was now entirely beyond my control.
On the day they left Patrick said to me as I stood in the yard, tears streaming down my face, “They may only be gone for a year or less…or maybe twenty years or more,” and after a long pause as though it had just occurred to him, he added, “We may never see them again.”
Silence….a long impenetrable silence filled the air around us. There was nothing else to say. Not comforting words, but truth nonetheless.
*see The Circle Continues, Chapter II, page 71
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