The Lisa Life

Losing Jessica

Losing Jessica by Robby DeBoer

As anyone who has read my blog more than twice knows, I am an adult adoptee, as is my husband, and our daughter is adopted.

Mia and my son Dexter mean the world to me.  They are both very special in their own ways and I can't imagine my life without the richness and joy they give me.

That being said, I have avoided reading this book for at least a decade.  I knew it would disturb me beyond measure, much as it did when the entire case was playing out.

A brief synopsis.  Jessica was adopted by Jan and Robby DeBoer of Ann Arbor, Michigan.  Her birthmother, Cara, claimed a man named Scott was the birthfather.  Scott duly signed off his parental rights, freeing Jessica for adoption by the DeBoers.  But wait, oops, Cara lied.  Scott was not the father.  Instead, a man named Dan Schmidt who oops, had already fathered two children he didn't provide support for, nor was he involved in their lives, was the father.  And he wanted Jessica.

Long court case that was remarkable because there was no precedence.  It had never happened before. 

Dan and Cara eventually married and had a daughter together while the case was playing out.  They seemed to have no regard as to how placing Jessica with them would affect her.  She was 3 and a half years old when she was wrenched away from Jan and Robby.  Although Jan and Robby tried to prepare her, how could you? 

I can remember watching the heartbreaking scene when Jessica was removed from Jan and Robby's home.  I was sitting on the couch with my Mom (herself an adoptive parent, remember) with my seven month old son Dexter in my arms.  My Mom and I were both crying our eyes out, seeing Jessica scream, "I want my Mommy!  I want Daddy!"  And she didn't mean Cara and Dan.  I remember my Mom gripping my hand and saying over and over, "My God, I can't imagine, I can't imagine if someone would have taken you away from me, I can't imagine."

I am reminded of the conversation Stacy and I had about the anti-adoption people who seem to think adoptive parents are just babysitters for 18 years or so.  According to statistics, adoption touches one in four people.  I don't know how accurate that number is, because just about everyone I know has been touched by adoption.  In fact, an online friend of mine from another country has just become a mother to a beautiful son this week through adoption.

Losing Jessica is a very moving story.  Yes, it could be viewed as being a bit biased but Jan and Robby DeBoer acted in the best interest of the child.  I don't think Dan and Cara Schmidt could say the same.  Dan and Cara made very little effort to find out Jessica's day to day habits and schedule, they had the DeBoers followed, and even returned a Christmas gift for Jessica the DeBoers sent  back to the store it was delivered from.  After testifying in court, under oath, that they would not change Jessica's name, the Schmdits changed her name.  One aspect that really pisses me off is the fact that Cara was rewarded for lying under oath.    She was obviously an upstanding honorable human, since she not only couldn't figure out who impregnated her, she even deliberately lied about it.

The Schmdits were vague and non-committal about therapy for Jessica. Gee, do you think she might have needed some?  The potential bonding and attachment issues are incredible.  Reportedly, the former Jessica is doing well and hopefully that is some small measure of comfort to the DeBoers.

I finished this book sitting in backyard and cried my eyes out.  It's a story that needs to be told, though.

This Crazy Thing Called Love

This Crazy Thing Called Love, by Susan Braudy

I am a big fan of Dominick Dunne's writing.  I've read every book he's every published and I look forward to his column every month in Vanity Fair magazine.

One of my favorites of his books is The Two Mrs. Grenvilles.  The novel is loosely based on what was at the time called The Shooting Of The Century, the killing of the very rich, very social Billy Woodward by his wife, the former showgirl who claimed she mistook him for a prowler.

This Crazy Thing Called Love is the real story the novel is based on.  It's an absolutely fascinating look inside the world of the very wealthy. Billy's family owned the very successful racehorse, Nashua and although Billy never really worked before, he did take over the horse farm and was serious about making a name for himself in the high stake world of thoroughbred racing. 

His wife, Ann, was from Nowheresville in Kansas and had suffered a very disrupted chaotic childhood.  She was very bright and beautiful though and was determined to better herself.  She moved to New York, dreaming of becoming an actress.  She did land some gigs as a showgirl and in radio, at one point being named the Most Beautiful Girl In Radio. 

I don't want to give away all the twists and turns because this is really a book worth reading, even without the crime aspect.  There is all kinds of insight and scoop on the very wealthy and it's filled with photos of many of the main players.  The sociological aspect alone is incredible.  Truman Capote and The Duchess of Windsor are but two well-know figures who wander through at various times.  (NOTE: If you ever had any doubt whatsoever that Truman Capote was an evil queen, this book will banish that notion permanently.)

This is a great beach book too, in a can't put it down sort of way and hey!  You'll look much more intelligent reading this at the beach than if you were reading Tom Clancy or Danielle Steele!

The Blooker Awards

My friend Loretta has written an excellent book, Stone Cold Guilty, about the Scott Peterson murder trial.  In fact, I consider it to be the definitive book on the case.  I read a lot of true crime and I can be a harsh critic. Her work is excellent and compelling and heartfelt.  I recently re-read the book (for the third time) and it's still outstanding and fresh.

I am proud to announce that Loretta has been nominated for a Blooker award.  You can read about it here.

Good luck, Loretta!

And dear and gentle readers?  Buy her book.  It's a great read.

A Beautiful Child

A Beautiful Child, by Matt Birkbeck

Sharon Marshall was a bright young woman with the potential for great things.  She was an honor student, hoping for a career at NASA.  She was raised by her single father, Floyd, who was considered a bit weird but he had done such a great job with Sharon, his eccentricities were overlooked.

It was all a scam, though.  Sharon wasn't her real name and Floyd wasn't her father. 

Floyd was actually a convicted felon who had somehow obtained Sharon as a small child.  He raised her as his daughter but also molested her regularly and instead of going to college, which was Sharon's dream, she ended up working in strip clubs throughout the south and "marrying" Floyd.

Mr. Birkbeck does a wonderful job of attempting to unravel this mystery as well as describing the efforts of such organizations as the Doe Network and the National Center For Missing And Exploited Children.

I must warn you, dear and gentle readers, that this is definitely a two boxes of tissue book.  My heart broke for Sharon.

Masquerade

Masquerade, by Lowell Cauffiel.

Lowell Cauffiel is (or was, not sure if he is still alive) a reporter for the Detroit News who covered this bizarre and twisted case and subsequently wrote this excellent book detailing the characters and background concerning the murder of Dr. W. Alan Canty, Jr.

Dr. Canty was a well-known psychologist in Detroit, practicing in the prestigious Fisher Building downtown.  He was the only child of Alan Canty, Sr., who retired as the executive director of the Detroit Recorder's Court Psychiatric Clinic, although he had never finished college. Canty Sr.'s research ran the gamut from repeat traffic offenders and the pathology behind them to sexual deviates.   His mother was Gladys Canty, a former Detroit school board member who had served twice as president during her 14 year career. 

Dr. Canty had done very well financially with his practice, much better than his father ever had in working for the courts.  He and his much younger and quite beautiful wife Jan lived in a Tudor in prestigious Grosse Pointe on Windmill Drive.  Although Dr. Canty was a bit eccentric (he was a total slob as far as dressing, rarely watched television and dismissed celebrities yet couldn't wait every week for his People magazine to arrive), he appeared to live a settled, structured, somewhat OCD lifestyle.

None of Dr. Canty's friends or colleagues could have guessed he was leading a second life, one that took him to Detroit's most ravaged neighborhood, the Cass Corridor.

The Cass Corridor in Detroit during the mid-80s was riddled with drug addicts, prostitutes and crime of every imaginable type.  It was where you landed when you had absolutely hit rock bottom in your addiction.  The whores working the Cass were the ones who couldn't pass muster during the day, so deep were the ravages of their addictions.  Heroin was the drug of choice, called "mixed jive" in the neighborhood, since it was stepped on so much, the percentage of heroin was in question.

It was here that Dr. Canty met Dawn Marie Spens, an 18 year old fresh faced addict who hailed from Harper Woods, a nice middle-class working class suburb.

Dawn had a troubled childhood with an alcoholic often absent father who eventually left the family.  She started drinking and smoking pot in middle school and by her junior year of high school, she peeled completely out of the squadron and left home to live with her abusive, petty criminal and full-blown drug addict boyfriend Don in a Cass Corridor apartment.  At that point, Dawn did not ride the needle, but after seeing Don repeatedly shoot up and his never-ending quest for more, she decided to see what the fuss was all about.

Eventually, she left Don to hook up with John "Lucky"  Fry, a long time felon and addict who was old enough to be her father. 

Dr. Canty approached Dawn for a "date" and turned into her sugar daddy.  She rarely had sex with him, but he visited every day expect Sundays at lunchtime for an hour and paid generously for her time.  She and Lucky scammed the good doctor out of unknown amounts of money with cons such as Dawn needing a new car, paying Lucky off to go away so Dr. Canty could have her to himself and even paying for them to move out of the squalid apartment building they lived into to a run-down bungalow, which Dawn furnished on the basis of Dr. Canty's credit.

Dr. Canty, however, was playing something of his own game with them.  He presented himself as an MD and used a different name. He never mentioned his wife or his practice, preferring that the pimp and his whore think he practiced emergency medicine in one of the large Detroit trauma hospitals.  Indeed, when Dawn suffered a terrible abscess from her drug addiction, he paved the way for an easy admittance to a hospital where in true co-dependent fashion, Dr. Canty provided street drugs for Dawn to inject into her IV line.

When Lucky was getting the sense that their cash cow and only source of income was backing away, he took a gamble. I won't give away the whole story, but Dr. Canty ended up dead and dismembered 250 miles away from Detroit and everyone who knew him was shocked by his sordid second life. 

An excellent read and so much better than fiction because really, you can't make this kind of shit up.