For the past seven years, from the moment I wake up to the second I fall asleep the white collar crime machine eats away at my day as earnestly as a pac-man consumes his little white dots. Years ago it ran full time and shot at me relentlessly like a tennis ball machine on high speed. There were attorneys and detectives with side arms and a warrant and court dates and judges and phone calls from jail and letters of support to write, and gut wrenching fear every second of every day. But these days the machine runs on a much slower setting because now I am in control of it.
I begin my days by reading countless obligatory articles from the FCPA Blog, (as prolific a group as one could ever imagine), that take up an alarming amount of space in my in-box. Then it's on to the Wall Street Journal and several other compliance publications which seem to be growing in number daily. I do this because as a former white collar wife turned innocent spouse advocate it's vital that I keep informed of the ongoing machinations of corruption
within mega corporations who are paying fines in the hundreds of millions of dollars for
"alleged" non-compliance issues as a result of fraud, bribery or out and
out debauchery. Sometimes, (more often of late), where there is corruption within an organization there's an executive who gets hauled off to prison and consequently there is usually a wife and family in need of mentoring.
There was a time, in a life far, far away from the one I now lead when my reading materials of choice consisted of the best selling book du-jour, Vanity Fair and, (I'm ashamed to say), People Magazine. It's been many years since I've as much as glanced at any of these as my interests lie elsewhere these days and reading the financial news has become as routine as brushing my teeth. I cannot NOT be well versed on current events in the world of financial news because someone may ask me, (as recently happened during an interview I was giving to a Wall Street Journal reporter), "did you read that article in the Washington Post today"? While I was aware of the piece he was referring to I had not finished it in it's entirety because let's face it, there simply are not enough hours in a day to get through all the financial news within a twenty four hour cycle.
Next up on my white collar crime machine schedule is to check in with the women in my group, The Secret Lives of White Collar Wives where I was the only member for a very long time. But now there are several members who give and receive support as readily as if we had all been the best of friends for many years. It is a place of comfort and understanding. A place where we can honor and mourn our past lives and try to rise above what is and not what is no longer.
Then there's the blogging. There was a time, before I really knew about blogging, when out of sheer frustration in my quest to find answers or comrades when I would simply Google words hoping for some kind of connection; "white collar wife"; "embezzlement"; "is there anybody out there like me!!!!???"; and finally, "HELP!". I never found what I was looking for but I came close a couple of times when I discovered a few old blogs from other white collar wives but they had all long since been abandoned, each with only one or two entries and no comments. They too had sought out anyone who cared and came up empty like me. So like the sole inhabitant of a vacant planet I took on the stance of build it and they will come and began my own blog which for me was akin to knocking on the door of the universe asking for someone to hear me.It's been a year now and my blog has attracted many followers, (from all over the world to my surprise), and I am grateful and even somewhat intimidated by that fact. And slowly but surely several white collar wives have crawled out of the shadows and joined my group as a result of the blog. I know there are thousands of white collar wives who are desperately
seeking support and so I continue to seek them out wherever I can because trying to navigate through the white collar crime machine waters is frightening and is not a journey one should take without an experienced guide. We're talking level 6 water here folks.
As the machine rolls along, I set aside a part of each day to attempt to network with others in the field of compliance and deterrence. My ability is limited at this stage so I mostly try to read as much as I can on-line and respond as effectively as I can in the comment sections of others blogs or articles. I'm terrible at Twitter but recently updated my Linkedin profile in hopes of gaining some recognition as an expert in my field. And I've been fortunate to have been asked to be a guest blogger on occasion which has helped to increase my visibility. If my blog were as worthy I would have returned the favor.
I also provide private coaching for white collar wives. These women contact me because of my blog or are referred to me by a colleague. As a white collar crime veteran I'm happy to assist where I can and provide insights and mentoring that were not afforded to me in the early to mid stages of my own journey. Some of the women end up joining my group and some prefer to remain in the shadows. It is of course, their call to make.
And last but certainly not least is the time I spend worrying about my son. About his future. About the profound damage that has been done to him as a result of his father's crime and the subsequent fallout he has had to endure. My child's soul-wound is deep and I often find myself longing for the old days when I could convince him that the monster under his bed was imaginary and he felt safe in his own home. I hope someday he will be able to move past this chapter of his life to a time where the damage done has become a part of his improved self rather than his impoverished past. I pray every day that I will live long enough to see this happen. He and I have traveled a very long road together and we still have quite a ways to go before we reach our destination.
As you can see, the white collar crime machine continues to take up an inordinate amount of my time on a daily basis. Truth be told I'd rather not know anything about it because it turns out there was a monster hiding under our beds all along and it's scarier that anything we could have imagined. But as the days and years have passed I've slowly made my peace with the creature but that doesn't mean it's tame. Not by a long shot.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Saturday, November 15, 2014
THE NOUVEAU POOR: WHITE COLLAR WIVES AND FAMILIES
There's a special place in most people's heart for those that have fallen on hard times and are having a difficult time making ends meet. Especially if they are single mothers trying to raise children. For a single mom, keeping a roof over her family's head, putting food on the table a couple of times a day, clothing her kids and paying for heat and other essentials is a daily struggle. Most single mothers work outside the home and some also attend classes a few days a week in hopes of a better paying job which in turn means a better existence for her children. The remainder of her time is spent trying to raise responsible kids who have a shot at a successful future. Not having a partner to help support the household financially or in raising children is an enormous burden. Society tends to have compassion for women who find themselves in this kind of extreme hardship and even openly encourage these woman to make it for themselves as well as their children. That is, unless she is a white collar wife.
White collar wives are put into a category all by themselves as the general public takes a kind of morbid pleasure in the fall from grace of the abruptly impoverished. Because of the undue guilt by association the public lavishes upon them, white collar wives are seemingly exempt from any sympathy. This is quite unfair because not only do white collar wives have to endure the shame and horror of having their husband's secret lives revealed to them, they and their children must also share in the dire consequences of HIS crime both personally as well as publically. Through no fault of her own a white collar wife loses all financial security such as; loss of income; frozen assets/seizure and in many cases the loss of her vehicle and all household possessions. Many white collar wives lose everything but the clothes on theirs and their children's backs. Some end up liable for hundred's of thousands of dollars in taxes on their husband's fraudulent income if returns were filed jointly, which for married couples is usually the case. Ultimately, her partner and the father of her children is hauled off to prison, (sometimes for many, many years), leaving her to provide for and raise her children by herself. The white collar wife who has given up her prime earning years for the sake of her family is essentially suddenly rendered penniless. The shock and awe of this life changing event can cause even the strongest of women to collapse under the sheer weight of this burden.
For most white collar wives, returning to the paid workforce is a long and arduous process as new skills need to be learned and child care must be arranged and paid for. But how can one afford either if there is no income or "assistance" at hand? It's much more difficult than one thinks to gain public assistance for the newly impoverished. Just as one needs a good work history to obtain gainful employment it appears that one must demonstrate a history of poverty in order to obtain government benefits to help sustain a family during times of extreme financial hardship. The majority of white collar wives would rather bite off their own arm than ask for help and the little assistance they receive is hardly worth the miles of paperwork they must file. But like any other single mother trying to care for her children, white collar wives are in no position to turn down any help that comes their way while trying to climb out of the wreckage their lives have become and she should never be judged because of it.
Poverty becomes a way of life for many white collar families in the immediate and sometimes infinite future. So the next time you read about a white collar criminal, (trust me, they're in the news daily), being hauled off to prison, please consider the suffering families and the extreme hardships they are having to endure through no fault of their own. Being poor is hard enough but to have to be ridiculed on top of being poor, frightened, ashamed, heartbroken and mentality as well as physically exhausted is cruel and unusual punishment where there is no just cause. Lend a helping hand if and when you can and please don't judge white collar families harshly as they do not merit anything other than your compassion.
White collar wives are put into a category all by themselves as the general public takes a kind of morbid pleasure in the fall from grace of the abruptly impoverished. Because of the undue guilt by association the public lavishes upon them, white collar wives are seemingly exempt from any sympathy. This is quite unfair because not only do white collar wives have to endure the shame and horror of having their husband's secret lives revealed to them, they and their children must also share in the dire consequences of HIS crime both personally as well as publically. Through no fault of her own a white collar wife loses all financial security such as; loss of income; frozen assets/seizure and in many cases the loss of her vehicle and all household possessions. Many white collar wives lose everything but the clothes on theirs and their children's backs. Some end up liable for hundred's of thousands of dollars in taxes on their husband's fraudulent income if returns were filed jointly, which for married couples is usually the case. Ultimately, her partner and the father of her children is hauled off to prison, (sometimes for many, many years), leaving her to provide for and raise her children by herself. The white collar wife who has given up her prime earning years for the sake of her family is essentially suddenly rendered penniless. The shock and awe of this life changing event can cause even the strongest of women to collapse under the sheer weight of this burden.
For most white collar wives, returning to the paid workforce is a long and arduous process as new skills need to be learned and child care must be arranged and paid for. But how can one afford either if there is no income or "assistance" at hand? It's much more difficult than one thinks to gain public assistance for the newly impoverished. Just as one needs a good work history to obtain gainful employment it appears that one must demonstrate a history of poverty in order to obtain government benefits to help sustain a family during times of extreme financial hardship. The majority of white collar wives would rather bite off their own arm than ask for help and the little assistance they receive is hardly worth the miles of paperwork they must file. But like any other single mother trying to care for her children, white collar wives are in no position to turn down any help that comes their way while trying to climb out of the wreckage their lives have become and she should never be judged because of it.
Poverty becomes a way of life for many white collar families in the immediate and sometimes infinite future. So the next time you read about a white collar criminal, (trust me, they're in the news daily), being hauled off to prison, please consider the suffering families and the extreme hardships they are having to endure through no fault of their own. Being poor is hard enough but to have to be ridiculed on top of being poor, frightened, ashamed, heartbroken and mentality as well as physically exhausted is cruel and unusual punishment where there is no just cause. Lend a helping hand if and when you can and please don't judge white collar families harshly as they do not merit anything other than your compassion.
Saturday, November 1, 2014
COMPLIANCE OFFICERS, ROUND UP YOUR CHILDREN!!
As I continue my advocacy work on behalf of white collar wives I've begun to delve into the realm of corporate culture. You're likely asking yourself "what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like that?" The answer is simple. I needed to gain a better understanding of why financial crimes continue to make headlines on a weekly, (and often daily), basis. All I've come up with so far are more questions. Like, whose minding the store?
We've all heard the phrase and understand the importance of "tone at the top". I'm speaking to the choir when I say that a healthy tone means that there is good risk management in place and that compliance is strictly adhered to. And that it is of the utmost importace that there is not an overemphasis on profits at the expense of ethics. This is all just plain best business practices. But what if the tone of a corporation is not healthy? What if your company "tone" says do whatever it takes to get the job done? Where does your own ethical barometer fall within a corporation that sets a poor tone?
Compliance officers have the enormous task of implementing company policy and assuring that the "tone at the top" is delivered effectively to all employees. One of the most important functions of a CCO is to ensure that employees understand corporate codes of conduct and ethics and the dire consequences for non-compliance of company standards and practices. I don't have any fancy letters that follow my name such as, MBA, CPA, or SFO. In my profession the only three letters that follow my name are MOM. But the job of a CCO and a MOM are very similar. The main job of a MOM is to make sure that those we are responsible for are well mannered and follow the rules as outlined within the MOM "family guidelines" so that they can go out into the world and be able to navigate their surroundings optimally and contribute to the sustainability of a civil society. In order for this to occur there must be proper teaching of ethics, cause and effect as well as risk management. Without these lessons we simply set our children up to fail. Unfortunately there are some MOMs who do not teach their children these fundamental tenets and the consequence to us all is that many children, left to their own devices, will go out into the world and wreak havoc. Many will be incarcerated because of a lack of due diligence from the MOM. This ends up costing the family extreme heartache not to mention the millions of dollars spent annually housing inmates.
If MOMs are expected to raise law abiding citizens who are ethical as well as creative and productive contributors to society then CCOs should be expected to perform at the same level. We all have a job to do and to do less than is required is not acceptable. So, corporations and compliance officers, please help to keep our sons, daughters, mothers and fathers out of prison by keeping your "tone at the top" at it's highest possible level each and every day by not placing profitability over ethics and teaching your "children" well.
We've all heard the phrase and understand the importance of "tone at the top". I'm speaking to the choir when I say that a healthy tone means that there is good risk management in place and that compliance is strictly adhered to. And that it is of the utmost importace that there is not an overemphasis on profits at the expense of ethics. This is all just plain best business practices. But what if the tone of a corporation is not healthy? What if your company "tone" says do whatever it takes to get the job done? Where does your own ethical barometer fall within a corporation that sets a poor tone?
Compliance officers have the enormous task of implementing company policy and assuring that the "tone at the top" is delivered effectively to all employees. One of the most important functions of a CCO is to ensure that employees understand corporate codes of conduct and ethics and the dire consequences for non-compliance of company standards and practices. I don't have any fancy letters that follow my name such as, MBA, CPA, or SFO. In my profession the only three letters that follow my name are MOM. But the job of a CCO and a MOM are very similar. The main job of a MOM is to make sure that those we are responsible for are well mannered and follow the rules as outlined within the MOM "family guidelines" so that they can go out into the world and be able to navigate their surroundings optimally and contribute to the sustainability of a civil society. In order for this to occur there must be proper teaching of ethics, cause and effect as well as risk management. Without these lessons we simply set our children up to fail. Unfortunately there are some MOMs who do not teach their children these fundamental tenets and the consequence to us all is that many children, left to their own devices, will go out into the world and wreak havoc. Many will be incarcerated because of a lack of due diligence from the MOM. This ends up costing the family extreme heartache not to mention the millions of dollars spent annually housing inmates.
If MOMs are expected to raise law abiding citizens who are ethical as well as creative and productive contributors to society then CCOs should be expected to perform at the same level. We all have a job to do and to do less than is required is not acceptable. So, corporations and compliance officers, please help to keep our sons, daughters, mothers and fathers out of prison by keeping your "tone at the top" at it's highest possible level each and every day by not placing profitability over ethics and teaching your "children" well.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
WHITE COLLAR CRIME AND THE INNOCENT SPOUSE: EPILOGUE
I am relieved to report that after writing a very stern and convincing letter to the MA DOR, (along with re-filed innocent spouse paperwork), the suspension on my driver's license has been lifted. There is something terribly wrong with a system that would penalize an innocent spouse for a crime they did not commit and was never charged with. The overbearing and overreaching arm of the law wreaks havoc on lives and in many cases just doesn't make any sense. While this particular battle was won I will not be convinced that the war is over until I receive in writing that I have no obligation whatsoever in this matter. In other words, until I have letter in hand from the MA DOR that I am no longer liable in any way for the $464,000 in back taxes on my ex-husband's embezzled funds I will consider the matter unresolved. In the meantime, I am free to operate my vehicle without hindrance from the state of Massachusetts. Special thanks to the always helpful and ever resourceful Brad Bailey with Denner Pellegrino for the quick referral to a tax attorney should the need arise. Stay tuned...
Thursday, October 16, 2014
WHITE COLLAR CRIME AND INNOCENT SPOUSE PART II
Yesterday I filed no papers with the MA DOR. Instead I wrote a very stern letter explaining my reasoning for not wanting to file an application for hardship to pay and that I intended to take the matter to court. Applying for hardship to pay indicates that I acknowledge that I have a responsibility to pay when I do not. To now have to be liable for embezzled funds I knew nothing about and that afforded me no enhancement but rather only pain and suffering for my son and I just adds insult to injury. They should instead direct their billing to my ex-husband's former girlfriend who benefited greatly as I came to understand. In fact the only good thing that came out of this mess was that my then husband was jolted awake enough to be able to get out from under the grasp of his former gold-digging girlfriend who left nothing but wreckage in her path as far as our family was concerned. (I've never spoken publicly about her out of respect for myself and my son but think it's fitting to include her now. If I could sue her I would.) But I digress. I also requested an extension from the DOR to resolve this matter as I was only given a matter of days to either pay "my half" of $464,000 or make an arrangement to pay. The response I received was immediate. I was told to complete an abatement form which they must receive today. When I explained that I had done my due diligence three years ago in filing all innocent spouse forms I was told, "that was three years ago. Things have now changed." What did that mean? They could not say. As if it were any of my business. So today I will RE-FILE my paperwork in hopes that someone at the MA DOR has their wits about them. There is not even the slightest inkling that I knew of or had anything whatsoever to do with my husband's crime. The forensic accountants/investigators found no shred of evidence where I am concerned or they would have hauled me into jail along with my husband. Does the MA DOR not believe the Attorney General's office or have faith in their capabilities?
I will take this matter to the highest court to clear my name with the MA DOR and rid myself of this horrendous harassment once and for all. White collar wives have enough on our plates to last a lifetime, (literally), in trying to dig out from the fallout of what has happened to our and our children's lives. My ex-husband is extremely remorseful and is struggling to rebuild his life, his self-esteem, his relationship with our son and will have to live with the grave damage he has caused all of us for the remainder of his life. He knows the hell he has put his family through and in seeing the toll it continues to take on us is at times unbearable for him. Understandably. There are mistakes and then there are the hammer of hell mistakes. The former can often be remedied. Sadly, for the latter, there is none.
To anyone who is contemplating committing an illegal financial act, think again. There is nothing that money can buy that is worth having to deal with the consequences of being caught. It does nothing but create a lifetime of heartaches, headaches, loss of dignity, loss of sanity and familial and financial ruin.
Wish me luck. I'll certainly need it.
I will take this matter to the highest court to clear my name with the MA DOR and rid myself of this horrendous harassment once and for all. White collar wives have enough on our plates to last a lifetime, (literally), in trying to dig out from the fallout of what has happened to our and our children's lives. My ex-husband is extremely remorseful and is struggling to rebuild his life, his self-esteem, his relationship with our son and will have to live with the grave damage he has caused all of us for the remainder of his life. He knows the hell he has put his family through and in seeing the toll it continues to take on us is at times unbearable for him. Understandably. There are mistakes and then there are the hammer of hell mistakes. The former can often be remedied. Sadly, for the latter, there is none.
To anyone who is contemplating committing an illegal financial act, think again. There is nothing that money can buy that is worth having to deal with the consequences of being caught. It does nothing but create a lifetime of heartaches, headaches, loss of dignity, loss of sanity and familial and financial ruin.
Wish me luck. I'll certainly need it.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
WHITE COLLAR CRIME AND THE INNOCENT SPOUSE
Last Friday I received a letter out of nowhere from MA Dot. Translation, the Massachusetts Department of Transportation. The letter informed me that unless I paid or made "arrangements to pay" the $464,000 tax assessment on the 2.6 millions dollars my husband, (now ex), embezzled seven years ago, they are going to suspend my driver's license and right to operate any motor vehicle on any road in Massachusetts, "indefinitely." Violation of the notice would be "punishable by jail." When I relayed this horror to one of my best friends she responded in this way: "My husband and I think this is just some kind of a hoax." I had to assure her that it was not. Yes people, the government taxes ill-gotten funds and if you are married at the time your spouse committed a financial crime then you too are liable for the taxes. Even though the majority of the funds my husband embezzled were returned, according to the MA DOR, me and my ex-husband were responsible jointly for taxes on the full amount.
After peeling myself off the floor I called the number on the form letter to inquire about the absurdity of receiving this notice because I had already complied with filing innocent spouse paperwork years earlier, but had never heard back from them. I assumed I had been granted a full abatement. My "new" case worker said they were missing a form and since it had been so many years since they had opened my case, they needed half a million dollars from me or they would put me in jail. Translation - they dropped the ball, not me. If they wanted one more form from me, they had five years to request it! By this time, five years of interest had been added to the tax bill. After telling the agent I had no intention of ever paying a debt I didn't owe and that I had assumed had already been formally discharged, the agent said I should file for a "hardship." That sounded pretty good to me to make this all go away again until I got the form in the mail that requested my banking information, my employer's name and telephone number and an income and expense balance. It wasn't until I fully ABSORBED this option that I realized this was nothing more than an opportunity for the MA DOR to garnish my bank funds and my paycheck!! I then also realized that if I were to complete and return the hardship forms then I would be acknowledging that I am in fact liable to pay this money. What I needed was an another full abatement.
After digging through boxes of stored paperwork I finally found copies of the original paperwork I sent to the DOR years earlier and sent copies to the new agent working my cases, via certified mail. Then nothing. I was both livid and panicked that I would be arrested at any minute and hauled off to jail for non-payment, as the letter promised. I finally called my agent but that agent was no longer working my case. I learned that I had been assigned a new agent who made me start all over again. A month passed and again, I heard nothing from the MA DOR so I sent yet another letter by certified mail and this is the response I received: "Dear Taxpayer: The Massachusetts Department of Revenue is currently working on the inquiry about your inquiry in response to our inquiry please complete the MA Form 84 along with a Ma Form CA-6. If you have any questions...." Yes. It REALLY said this. Illiterate and nonsensical. Verbatim. Where is the due performance to me from the MA DOR? This is what I'm dealing with folks.
Could it get any worse? That question has been asked and answered many times over the past seven years. That the MA Dot/DOR had only given me a matter of days to pay nearly half a million dollars in taxes or go to jail, and then bounce me around like a rubber ball was not only egregious, but just another example of the far reaching and long term consequences of a spouse's financial crime.
I finally got fed up with dealing with the MA DOR, their strong armed agents and my ex husband's never ending mess, so I wrote my own threatening letter to the tax man and told them to either arrest me or leave me the hell alone. Not long after, I received a full abatement.
The long arm of the law just keeps getting longer and the fallout of white collar crime is without end.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
THE SINS OF THE FATHER
This is the third and final essay in a three part series written by women from the group The Secret Lives of White Collar Wives who have described their own heart wrenching experience about the events leading up to their husband's incarceration. There is no typical path to jail/prison for white collar criminals. Each case comes with it it's own set of circumstances and law enforcement procedures. State vs. Federal, etc. The following is my own account of the days leading up to my ex-husband's incarceration. (My ex-husband is known in this piece as Tom).
The Sins of The Father by Lisa Lawler
My husband Tom retained counsel when he learned he was being investigated for embezzlement and his attorney at the time told him that he had a "better than good"chance of being summoned to court rather than arrested. This was because he had offered to surrender himself on more than one occasion, (the AG wasn't interested), and gave each change of address in a timely manner. In other words, he was cooperating. I was newly separated from my husband at the time because what began as an epic mid-life crisis had turned into a full on meltdown and my husband wasn't interested in my help or anyone elses for that matter. The news of a criminal investigation was the final blow to our marriage as I knew I couldn't get up from that final 10 count. I filed for divorce but remained actively supportive for the sake of my son. When weeks of waiting for the grand jury to bring indictments turned into months we began to live our lives in an excruciating state of limbo. When would the blade fall and how deep would it cut? How the hell would we survive this nightmare? Many white collar families agree that the waiting is the hardest part. That is until the next hardest part comes along...
A year later there was still no word from the grand jury and the terrible waiting continued. With our divorce final we had sold our home and moved to another state where Tom and I both had family nearby. We sat our son down before the move and revealed his father's legal issues and possible outcome. He was of course, shocked by this news. He had always looked up to his dad and to have to see him in this new light broke a part of his young heart and soul that can never be healed. Once in our new town in our rented homes we were all trying to adapt to the fact that we were no longer the strong, happy family we had once been, our lives now beyond recognition. We had become the walking dead going through the motions of living but not really alive. Since our separation my son spent one weeknight and every other weekend at this dad's place and after our move we continued this schedule. Tom and I attended our son's sports practices and games together and even went to dinner as a "family" once a week as a reassurance to our son, (and to ourselves), that all was not lost and that we were all still a "team", still connected.
We were living off the proceeds from the sale of our house during the pendency of the AG's investigation so money was tight. I had been job hunting for nearly a year but there were few jobs available for a "professional stay at home wife and mother." In hindsight I should have taken ANY job because if I'd had a crystal ball I'd know that the market was about to crash and there would soon be even fewer jobs. Tom was too paralyzed to look for work so he spent his days trying to keep busy with projects. Another five months passed and another school year had begun for my son and still no word from anyone regarding the case. We were all well beyond our breaking points as the stress, fear and anxiety were nearly unbearable. Later that year, as it had been so long since we had heard anything about Tom's case we began to entertain the idea that maybe the AG had decided not to pursue charges. Delusion is sometimes a great coping mechanism. We continued to live our lives the best way we could under the circumstances.
Late one evening a few weeks before Thanksgiving my son came into my bedroom covered in red, itchy hives. He was miserable. I asked him if he'd eaten anything out of the ordinary or been in the woods as he was highly allergic to poison ivy. He said he had not. I thought it odd because he was fine before going to bed a couple of hours earlier. I gave him an anti-histamine and swabbed anti-itch cream all over his back and then handed him the remote control on my nightstand. T.V. wasn't permitted after nine p.m.on a school night but I felt badly because his hives were inflamed and painful. It didn't take long for the Benadrly to kick in so he said good night and returned to his room. He reappeared in my doorway twenty minutes later with his pillow, "Mom can I sleep in here with you tonight?" I pulled the covers back and he crawled in. This was unusual for him but he fell asleep quickly. I could tell that something was up and it wasn't just the hives. I read my book for a while longer and then snapped off the light. A few hours later I awoke in full on panic mode. No nightmare prompted my awakening and I was so unnerved that I knew going back to sleep wasn't an option. I got up and made myself a cup of decaff tea and checked the locks on the door as I waited for the kettle to heat. I sat on the sofa in the dark sipping the soothing hot liquid trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I thought about my son's hives, his unease and my rude awakening and couldn't shake the feeling that somehow they were all connected. I had to stop my racing mind so I picked up the remote and flipped on the television. It's amazing how comforting Dan and Rosanne are in the wee hours and it was both sad and comforting to see a reminder of how a regular, loving family operates.
The next morning I was awakened by my son standing over me smiling from ear to ear as he lifted his shirt, "Mom my hives are gone!" I was happy for him and relieved that it was just a fluke. Then he asked, "Mom why did you sleep on the sofa?" It took me a moment to remember. I could tell by the light outside that my son was late for school and realized in my haste to deal with the rash I had forgotten to set my alarm clock. We were out the door in twenty minutes. Later that day after a thankfully uneventful stream of errands I arrived home to a ringing phone. Racing to answer it I tripped over our Yellow Lab, Max, and dropped the bag of groceries I was carrying. An assortment of fruit rolled onto the floor and I swore under my breath and told myself to slow down. Yup, things were back to normal. The home phone rarely rang. I maintained a land line only because it was necessary with a child in school so I expected that the call was coming from the nurse to tell me my son's hives had returned and that I needed to come pick him up. I reached for the receiver and quickly glanced at the caller ID out of habit. But I was caught completely off guard when instead of seeing the school ID I saw Hays County Jail instead. I quickly retracted my hand as if it had just been burned on a hot stove. Taking that call meant life would be forever changed because the thing we never wanted to happen but had tried so hard to prepare for was about to be real Tears filled my eyes as I reluctantly picked up the receiver. "Hey. It's me. I wanted to let you know that it's finally over. They picked me up about an hour ago at my house." I braced myself against the kitchen counter, bit my lip and tried to speak. "Did...how...um, are you okay?" Tom sounded too upbeat and I realized he was doing it for me. I quickly collected myself and returned the kind gesture. "So, do they have you in an orange jumpsuit yet?" He laughed. And then we were silent. There was so much to say. So many emotions of care and concern but at the same time, so much bad blood between us. "You need to call my attorney and tell him to get in touch with me." We were both relieved to get to the business at hand rather than struggle through emotions we weren't prepared to deal with. The elation of having the horrific waiting finally be over was tempered by the crushing reality that the man I had known and loved since we were in our teens and the father of my child was going to be behind bars for an undetermined length of time in a place where nightmares can come true. I tried to be strong for him. To reassure him that we would be okay for however long he would be gone. I told him about our son's bizarre rash and my panicked awakening from the night before and we both agreed that our connection was still so strong that they were likely a foreboding of his arrest.
Since Tom would be extradited back to another state he wasn't eligible for bail. We had long since discussed whether or not to have our son see his father in jail and had decided to have a wait and see approach. If he were going to have a very short sentence then we agreed that we wouldn't have our son visit him unless he really needed/wanted to but if it were to be a very long sentence then of course arrangements would be made. "I'm not sure how long I'll be here before they fly me back." Then silence. I knew what he was going to say next and it took everything I had not to release the pain festering in my soul from exiting my mouth. "Do you think you guys will be able to come see me before I go?" The million dollar question that my son and I had pondered for two years in our sparse conversations about this subject had finally been asked. I took a deep breath so that my answer would come out in words and not sobs. "I thought we agreed that we didn't want our son to see you in jail." The truth was that I not only didn't want my son to see his father in jail, (a tormenting memory that would haunt him his entire life), but I couldn't bear to see him there either. "Probably not. I'm so sorry. Tom this is so hard." It was difficult to get the words out. There was a brief pause and then he said, "No. I understand. Trust me. I know how hard this is for you guys.". I could hear the disappointment and fear in his voice and it crushed me. I wanted to get into my car and drive to the jail to support him, tell him how much I loved him, be there for him. Say goodbye. But I couldn't afford to go back to that dark place in my soul where I could barely function. I had worked too hard to come to terms with all that had transpired up to that point. His epic mid-life crisis which resulted in a horrendous affair that led to his embezzling millions to begin a new life with his mistress, the grueling process of the investigation, our divorce, and the list goes on. No. I had to stay on the path of strength to protect myself and my son against any further damage. And I had to stay strong so that I could face what was to come. "Tom I have to go pick up Hunter now. I'll call your attorney. Get in touch with us when you can. Hey, we really will be okay. " At that moment an awkward pause was inserted where "I love you" should have been. We were both painfully aware that after thirty years it was something we no longer said to one another.
It's true that we reap what we sow. Four days later Tom was put in hand cuffs and leg shackles by two Massachusetts State Troopers and escorted onto a commercial jet like a murderer who had been hunted down and finally caught. This was done needlessly and at taxpayer's expense and served no other purpose than to traumatize a young boy further. So much for cooperating with the AG. It was an election year and Martha Coakley had to prove to the Commonwealth that she was tough on white collar crime. Tom fired his attorney a week later. Although eligible for bail, I persuaded Tom to accrue time served while waiting for his trial/plea date. What else did he have to do? It turned out to be a year of waiting and wondering before his case finally got to the sentencing phase. We were three years in by then and far, far from where we began in our bubble of happiness in the solid and secure life we had worked hard to build. Home was a distant memory by then and a place none of us would ever truly find again.
White collar crime serves no purpose other than to destroy EVERYTHING it comes in contact with. It destroys lives. It destroys families. It is utterly ruinous. And the fallout is without end...
(This is a modified version of a chapter from my book, House on Fire: A Cautionary Tale which is still in the works,)
The Sins of The Father by Lisa Lawler
My husband Tom retained counsel when he learned he was being investigated for embezzlement and his attorney at the time told him that he had a "better than good"chance of being summoned to court rather than arrested. This was because he had offered to surrender himself on more than one occasion, (the AG wasn't interested), and gave each change of address in a timely manner. In other words, he was cooperating. I was newly separated from my husband at the time because what began as an epic mid-life crisis had turned into a full on meltdown and my husband wasn't interested in my help or anyone elses for that matter. The news of a criminal investigation was the final blow to our marriage as I knew I couldn't get up from that final 10 count. I filed for divorce but remained actively supportive for the sake of my son. When weeks of waiting for the grand jury to bring indictments turned into months we began to live our lives in an excruciating state of limbo. When would the blade fall and how deep would it cut? How the hell would we survive this nightmare? Many white collar families agree that the waiting is the hardest part. That is until the next hardest part comes along...
A year later there was still no word from the grand jury and the terrible waiting continued. With our divorce final we had sold our home and moved to another state where Tom and I both had family nearby. We sat our son down before the move and revealed his father's legal issues and possible outcome. He was of course, shocked by this news. He had always looked up to his dad and to have to see him in this new light broke a part of his young heart and soul that can never be healed. Once in our new town in our rented homes we were all trying to adapt to the fact that we were no longer the strong, happy family we had once been, our lives now beyond recognition. We had become the walking dead going through the motions of living but not really alive. Since our separation my son spent one weeknight and every other weekend at this dad's place and after our move we continued this schedule. Tom and I attended our son's sports practices and games together and even went to dinner as a "family" once a week as a reassurance to our son, (and to ourselves), that all was not lost and that we were all still a "team", still connected.
We were living off the proceeds from the sale of our house during the pendency of the AG's investigation so money was tight. I had been job hunting for nearly a year but there were few jobs available for a "professional stay at home wife and mother." In hindsight I should have taken ANY job because if I'd had a crystal ball I'd know that the market was about to crash and there would soon be even fewer jobs. Tom was too paralyzed to look for work so he spent his days trying to keep busy with projects. Another five months passed and another school year had begun for my son and still no word from anyone regarding the case. We were all well beyond our breaking points as the stress, fear and anxiety were nearly unbearable. Later that year, as it had been so long since we had heard anything about Tom's case we began to entertain the idea that maybe the AG had decided not to pursue charges. Delusion is sometimes a great coping mechanism. We continued to live our lives the best way we could under the circumstances.
Late one evening a few weeks before Thanksgiving my son came into my bedroom covered in red, itchy hives. He was miserable. I asked him if he'd eaten anything out of the ordinary or been in the woods as he was highly allergic to poison ivy. He said he had not. I thought it odd because he was fine before going to bed a couple of hours earlier. I gave him an anti-histamine and swabbed anti-itch cream all over his back and then handed him the remote control on my nightstand. T.V. wasn't permitted after nine p.m.on a school night but I felt badly because his hives were inflamed and painful. It didn't take long for the Benadrly to kick in so he said good night and returned to his room. He reappeared in my doorway twenty minutes later with his pillow, "Mom can I sleep in here with you tonight?" I pulled the covers back and he crawled in. This was unusual for him but he fell asleep quickly. I could tell that something was up and it wasn't just the hives. I read my book for a while longer and then snapped off the light. A few hours later I awoke in full on panic mode. No nightmare prompted my awakening and I was so unnerved that I knew going back to sleep wasn't an option. I got up and made myself a cup of decaff tea and checked the locks on the door as I waited for the kettle to heat. I sat on the sofa in the dark sipping the soothing hot liquid trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I thought about my son's hives, his unease and my rude awakening and couldn't shake the feeling that somehow they were all connected. I had to stop my racing mind so I picked up the remote and flipped on the television. It's amazing how comforting Dan and Rosanne are in the wee hours and it was both sad and comforting to see a reminder of how a regular, loving family operates.
The next morning I was awakened by my son standing over me smiling from ear to ear as he lifted his shirt, "Mom my hives are gone!" I was happy for him and relieved that it was just a fluke. Then he asked, "Mom why did you sleep on the sofa?" It took me a moment to remember. I could tell by the light outside that my son was late for school and realized in my haste to deal with the rash I had forgotten to set my alarm clock. We were out the door in twenty minutes. Later that day after a thankfully uneventful stream of errands I arrived home to a ringing phone. Racing to answer it I tripped over our Yellow Lab, Max, and dropped the bag of groceries I was carrying. An assortment of fruit rolled onto the floor and I swore under my breath and told myself to slow down. Yup, things were back to normal. The home phone rarely rang. I maintained a land line only because it was necessary with a child in school so I expected that the call was coming from the nurse to tell me my son's hives had returned and that I needed to come pick him up. I reached for the receiver and quickly glanced at the caller ID out of habit. But I was caught completely off guard when instead of seeing the school ID I saw Hays County Jail instead. I quickly retracted my hand as if it had just been burned on a hot stove. Taking that call meant life would be forever changed because the thing we never wanted to happen but had tried so hard to prepare for was about to be real Tears filled my eyes as I reluctantly picked up the receiver. "Hey. It's me. I wanted to let you know that it's finally over. They picked me up about an hour ago at my house." I braced myself against the kitchen counter, bit my lip and tried to speak. "Did...how...um, are you okay?" Tom sounded too upbeat and I realized he was doing it for me. I quickly collected myself and returned the kind gesture. "So, do they have you in an orange jumpsuit yet?" He laughed. And then we were silent. There was so much to say. So many emotions of care and concern but at the same time, so much bad blood between us. "You need to call my attorney and tell him to get in touch with me." We were both relieved to get to the business at hand rather than struggle through emotions we weren't prepared to deal with. The elation of having the horrific waiting finally be over was tempered by the crushing reality that the man I had known and loved since we were in our teens and the father of my child was going to be behind bars for an undetermined length of time in a place where nightmares can come true. I tried to be strong for him. To reassure him that we would be okay for however long he would be gone. I told him about our son's bizarre rash and my panicked awakening from the night before and we both agreed that our connection was still so strong that they were likely a foreboding of his arrest.
Since Tom would be extradited back to another state he wasn't eligible for bail. We had long since discussed whether or not to have our son see his father in jail and had decided to have a wait and see approach. If he were going to have a very short sentence then we agreed that we wouldn't have our son visit him unless he really needed/wanted to but if it were to be a very long sentence then of course arrangements would be made. "I'm not sure how long I'll be here before they fly me back." Then silence. I knew what he was going to say next and it took everything I had not to release the pain festering in my soul from exiting my mouth. "Do you think you guys will be able to come see me before I go?" The million dollar question that my son and I had pondered for two years in our sparse conversations about this subject had finally been asked. I took a deep breath so that my answer would come out in words and not sobs. "I thought we agreed that we didn't want our son to see you in jail." The truth was that I not only didn't want my son to see his father in jail, (a tormenting memory that would haunt him his entire life), but I couldn't bear to see him there either. "Probably not. I'm so sorry. Tom this is so hard." It was difficult to get the words out. There was a brief pause and then he said, "No. I understand. Trust me. I know how hard this is for you guys.". I could hear the disappointment and fear in his voice and it crushed me. I wanted to get into my car and drive to the jail to support him, tell him how much I loved him, be there for him. Say goodbye. But I couldn't afford to go back to that dark place in my soul where I could barely function. I had worked too hard to come to terms with all that had transpired up to that point. His epic mid-life crisis which resulted in a horrendous affair that led to his embezzling millions to begin a new life with his mistress, the grueling process of the investigation, our divorce, and the list goes on. No. I had to stay on the path of strength to protect myself and my son against any further damage. And I had to stay strong so that I could face what was to come. "Tom I have to go pick up Hunter now. I'll call your attorney. Get in touch with us when you can. Hey, we really will be okay. " At that moment an awkward pause was inserted where "I love you" should have been. We were both painfully aware that after thirty years it was something we no longer said to one another.
It's true that we reap what we sow. Four days later Tom was put in hand cuffs and leg shackles by two Massachusetts State Troopers and escorted onto a commercial jet like a murderer who had been hunted down and finally caught. This was done needlessly and at taxpayer's expense and served no other purpose than to traumatize a young boy further. So much for cooperating with the AG. It was an election year and Martha Coakley had to prove to the Commonwealth that she was tough on white collar crime. Tom fired his attorney a week later. Although eligible for bail, I persuaded Tom to accrue time served while waiting for his trial/plea date. What else did he have to do? It turned out to be a year of waiting and wondering before his case finally got to the sentencing phase. We were three years in by then and far, far from where we began in our bubble of happiness in the solid and secure life we had worked hard to build. Home was a distant memory by then and a place none of us would ever truly find again.
White collar crime serves no purpose other than to destroy EVERYTHING it comes in contact with. It destroys lives. It destroys families. It is utterly ruinous. And the fallout is without end...
(This is a modified version of a chapter from my book, House on Fire: A Cautionary Tale which is still in the works,)
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