Return Fire

Londonderry and Lawrence
1998/10/23 - 1998/10/24

[Our plans to attend our son's graduation from Army Basic Training had been made several months earlier. Even though Renee appeared to be having morning sickness, we still felt okay about going out-of-state for a few days. She was being cared for and was going to be seen by an OBGYN while we were gone. We would be told more about her condition when we returned.

We made the three-day round trip to Columbia, SC, October 21-23, 1998.]


Londonderry, NH
1998/10/23 23:30 Friday [VM]
When we arrived home apparently our good travel luck had ran out. The answering machine was flashing two messages. Both were from Mark O'Flaherty, the nursing home administrator, recorded earlier that afternoon and evening.

(1) Friday 3:46 PM "Renee was transported to Lawrence General Hospital at three-fifteen today."
And
(2) Friday 7:48 PM "Please call Mark O'Flaherty at Town Manor, until eleven PM this evening. Renee went into labor at Lawrence General Hospital."

Ferne and I looked at each other. "Labor?" I blurted out... Mark is not making sense. She isn't pregnant enough to 'deliver' a baby yet. He must have misspoken. "At two months? Did he mean miscarriage?"

Ferne put her hand over her mouth. Her forehead wrinkled.

Don't panic... at least don't let Ferne see it. Got to keep my cool and sort this thing out.


Londonderry, NH
1998/10/23 23:45 Friday [Ferne and Don]
We'd probably missed Mark at Town Manor by only a half hour, so I called Lawrence General Hospital first. I tried to control it, but my voice was a little elevated. I told the receptionist, "I want a report on Renee Huntemann, my daughter."

She paused, "Let me check," another pause, "I have no entry for a Renee Huntemann."

I blinked several times, then stuttered, "Ch... check the maternity admissions," my concern rising further, along with my voice.

The receptionist said, "There's no record of a patient with that name registered here. In any department."

My words became a torrent, "I was told she was sent to the ER at three-fifteen this afternoon."

"Are you sure it was Lawrence General?"

"Oh,..." surprised, "I'll have to double check," and hung up quickly. Oops. Maybe that was a mistake, I should have asked for her manager.

"Is this some kind of horrible joke?" I said to Ferne. "They denied Renee is a patient there."

Ferne said, "Could it be Holy Family, over in Methuen?" her eyes growing larger.

"No, Mark's message was very specific... twice. It was Lawrence General."

I called Town Manor. Renee's nurse, Donna, answered.

"What's going on? Is Renee okay?"

Donna said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Huntemann, but I can't tell you myself. You need to talk to Mark, but he's gone for the day. I'll have to have him call you back," and she hung up abruptly.

I looked at the receiver, shook it like it was defective, and said, "Lawrence General won't talk to me. Now, Town Manor won't talk to me."

In less than a minute Mark called back. He said, "She's there, but Lawrence General is protecting her privacy."

"Her privacy? From whom? What happened today?"

He said, "The VNA nurse visited Renee in her room around one PM. An aide noticed blood at three, and they called the EMTs."

"That, I take it, was what your first message was about. But, your second, 'labor'?"

"Her Lawrence General doctor is Dr. Daley. She helped deliver a baby girl this afternoon, who was Med-Flighted to the Children's Floating Hospital, down in Boston."

"Jesus! A baby?"

Ferne's face looked like she had been stabbed by my words.

Mark continued, "The Lawrence General social worker on the case is Joyce Kaufman. Try talking directly to her or Dr. Daley."

I hung up and called Lawrence General again. I dropped the names, Daley, Kaufman and O'Flaherty, but they were all gone for the day and the receptionist resolutely refused to confirm Renee was there.

"No luck," I said. "They still refuse to say she's there. But Mark was definite; she is. He also said they were protecting her privacy. Maybe that's why they say there's no record of her."

"Why would it be anybody else's business?" Ferne asked.

"Because people are just nosy."

Perplexed, Ferne asked, "Do you think the police have something to do with it? An on-going investigation and all?"

"That might be it. To keep the rapist in the dark."

Ferne and I agreed that if Lawrence General, the police, or whomever, wanted to keep Renee's situation private, then maybe we should keep all the events around her private. We knew if we talked to anyone at either of our work places, there would be rumors and false stories spread, and we didn't want our lives and failures to become gossip.

"What should we do in the morning?" I asked. "Call in sick or ask for a personal day?"... Nope, it's the weekend, stupid. "I'm the only one there on Saturday mornings. Nobody to call."

"Me neither," Ferne said. "I'd have to tell them why. I'm not going to say, 'Oh, my comatose daughter got raped, pregnant, gave birth last night, and I thought I'd go visit her.' Nobody would believe me. And it's none of their darn business anyway."

They may not acknowledge it, but she's in a hospital... being taken care of... I hope. I said, "Well, if she's in the hospital, according to Mark, at least she's safe."

We went to bed contemplating what we should do in the morning. Sleep eluded both of us because uncertainty of Renee's status tied our minds in knots. The baby was not in our thoughts loop yet.


NEMC
1998/10/24 07:00 Saturday [Ferne and Don]
But that changed at seven the next morning. Dr. Srivatsa from Boston Floating Hospital(1) called to report the baby's condition. Ferne and I were awake but still in bed.

"Who?" Oh yeah, right, that's where Mark said they took the baby.

He informed me... "critical... in intensive care... baby girl... 2 lbs 8 oz... premature at 7 months. When will we see you?"

Seven months! I bolted upright in the bed. Renee was that far along?

I said, "Does it have to be immediately?"

"I prefer it to be as soon as possible."

Ferne sat up too, and bent close to hear the doctor.

I said, "We have to look after our daughter too. She's in Lawrence General. Are there decisions that have to be made right now?"

"No. We're doing all we can. We've got her stabilized, but we need to discuss her care with you."

Ferne shivered a no at me, then flashed bewildered in her eyes.

Don't say no, but we have to check on Renee first. "We will come down this afternoon."

After I hung up, Geeze, I sounded a little reluctant. I hope he doesn't think I'm uncaring. This is all happening too fast. What are we supposed to do? Renee is our primary concern...

What? Snap out of it. This is our grandchild, too...

Harrumph, some grandchild... or-issue... or-monster. What do you call a child of rape? Bastard? But, should I call it my grandchild? Would I call it mine? Could I call it mine?

You stupid ass. It's Renee's, no matter how it got started. That makes it ours. Get used to it. Save your contempt for the ass-hole who raped her.

But, it's not supposed to work this way.

Too bad-it has.

I told Ferne, "He said Renee was seven months pregnant."

Ferne choked, "And they didn't tell us?"


During coffee and toast, we decided to try to keep our schedules as normal as possible. Ferne would go to work at HomeGoods for eight hours, and I would go to New Hampshire College (now SNHU) for my normal four hours Saturday morning.

After work, I would go down to Boston to talk to the doctors about the baby. Then, on my way home, I would stop at the Lawrence police station to see Detective Bartlett. If I got back before LGH visiting hours end, I could go over to see how Renee is doing. If they let me in. I may need Detective Bartlett's help. Ferne and I would both try to visit Renee Sunday.


NHC
1998/10/24 Saturday 08:00-13:15 [Don]
I tended the computers at NHC and tutored students about software and homework. Not very good tutoring though. I normally explain the problem solutions to them. Today I must have seemed a bit spacey, though, I just worked the problems for them with no explanations. My thoughts were elsewhere.

I locked up at 1 PM intending to go down to Boston. But, as I was leaving NHC, the van's gas gauge registered below a quarter tank. So, I stopped at my favorite Sunoco station on route 28 to fill up. When I went to pay, I noticed a Lawrence Eagle-Tribune newspaper headline: "Coma woman gives birth." I froze when I saw it.

Oh, my God! I caught my breath as prickly fire rose up my back.

I paid for the gas and purchased the paper. I must have been chalk white. The attendant looked at me like I had the plague. My hands were trembling.

I moved the van away from the pumps and parked at the edge of the lot. Then I read the story(2) three times.

Saturday, October 24, 1998
Coma woman gives birth
By Mark E. Vogler
Eagle-Tribune Writer

LAWRENCE -- A comatose 24-year-old patient in a Lawrence nursing home gave birth to a premature girl yesterday, prompting overlapping investigations by police and the state Department of Public Health.

The woman, a resident of the Town Manor Nursing Home on Lowell Street for four to five years, was raped several months ago, law enforcement officials said.
.
.
.

"Her legal guardians, while they've been notified, have not given us permission to release any information about her," Ms. Gilliland said [spokeswoman for Town Manor's parent company]. "We have to maintain the integrity of the investigation."

She said the nursing home is cooperating with the Lawrence police.

"We've been working with them since Monday," Ms. Gilliland said. "We're providing them with whatever information they need."

District Attorney Burke said he was appalled about the circumstances involving the woman, who has been comatose for several years after a drug overdose.
.
.
.

Commissioner Koh [Public Health] said he knows of no similar circumstances investigated by his agency, but believes it will be a high-profile case with profound implications.

"I know there's a case in Rochester, N.Y. that happened a couple of years ago. And I understand that was a national story," he said.
.
.
.

If the newspapers have published this much, then they probably have much more that they haven't checked out yet. They will be looking for us, since they are calling this a 'high-profile case' already.

The van has my name and phone number plastered all over it in three-inch letters, so it isn't a good stealth vehicle to visit the police or hospitals. The press may be waiting to ambush us in any public place. I should go home and switch cars.

When I approached our street, I wondered if there would be a welcoming committee of press. I considered parking in a neighbor's driveway and walking around the corner to see if anyone was waiting.

That's being paranoid to the extreme!.... So, I just drove straight into my own driveway.

There was nothing on the street out of normal for a Saturday afternoon.

I tried to start the Sunbird but the battery was dead. What the Hell. Why do I have three cars if I don't keep them all running?

The Sunbird had proven to be unreliable lately, so I hadn't been driving it for a couple months. I could jump start it with the van, but just my luck, it won't hold a charge, and I'll end up stranded down in Boston.

That didn't leave me much choice, so I had to wait for Ferne to return home to use the Plymouth. I put the charger on the Sunbird battery anyway.

Family
1998/10/24 14:45 Saturday [Don]
I called Ferne at work to tell her about the article.

Trying to keep her voice low from the other workers, while sobbing, Ferne whispered, "Who would have told the paper? And why?"

"Vogler is the police reporter for the Eagle-Tribune. I've read some of his stuff before. He probably just went in and read the blotter... it's a public record."

A little anger filtered into her voice, "Nosy darn Eagle-Tribune." It was the beginning of Ferne's disenchantment with that newspaper.

"Well, it's only a local paper," I said. Maybe the story will blow over quickly."

After calming her fight/flight instinct, she said she would come home after five o'clock as usual.


The Eagle-Tribune article referred to 'her legal guardians' having been notified. That should be us. But, we were never given any 'legal' status because it didn't make economic sense for us to pursue it back in 1995. It isn't about economics anymore. Maybe it would be a good idea to get guardianship now.

So, around three-thirty, I called James Townsend, the attorney I had talked to three years before.

Of course, being Saturday, his machine answered. No one would be in until Monday morning.

I left a short message that I had talked to him several years ago about guardianship for Renee. I wanted to talk to him about that again and some other matters. I was afraid to say much else because I didn't know how secure his machine was, and I didn't know if Lawyer/Client confidentiality applies to machines. His outgoing message had not given an emergency number.


Courts
1998/10/24 16:00 Saturday [Don]
I tried to call Detective Bartlett several times, but no answer. The police do work Saturdays... I hope.


LGH
1998/10/24 19:40 Saturday [Ferne and Don]
Ferne and I elected to go see Renee at Lawrence General first instead of the baby down in Boston. It was difficult to get in to see her. The security is very tight. When we arrived at the reception desk and asked for her; again, the gal said she wasn't a patient there.

I told her we would like to talk to her supervisor. She called someone in security and the nurse supervisor.

In only a few seconds a guard came to the desk. We had to prove we were Renee's parents. Then we had to wait a couple minutes until the nurse supervisor, Wendy Hileman, arrived.

The guard said, "These two are different. They are who they say they are," and left.

Wendy walked us up to Renee's room. "Sorry for the heightened security. Since the newspaper article this morning, this place has been crawling with reporters."

"Darn press. What'd you do about it?"

"We have a policy of not talking to the press. Even denying she is a patient."

"Yeah, I know." Damn effective, too.

"They were even walking into rooms, un-chaperoned, looking for the 'Coma Mom.' We had to move her a couple times."

"Who?"

"We normally don't even ask, just throw them out.

When we arrived at Renee's room, I noted it was tucked away down a short hall. The door was closed.

"She doesn't need isolation, but this room was available and harder to find," Wendy said.

The room was also quite small, barely big enough for her bed, nightstand and a chair. Her moist air came from a contraption on the nightstand. The chair was occupied by a 24-hr nurse's aide, Amanda, stationed in her room.

Renee began to whimper when she saw Ferne.

I noticed she was wearing a name bracelet that said 'Bridget Williams.' I held up her wrist with the bracelet, and asked, "What's this?"

"An alias. It's part of our security strategy, just to keep the press off track," Wendy said.

Too bad we didn't know her alias Friday night. Maybe we could have been able to get reports over the phone.


Wendy had other duties to tend to, but every so often, a floor nurse, Kim, would come in and compress Renee's abdomen. Renee would cry and the nurse would apologize, "We have to expel all the afterbirth fluids."

I wonder if Renee thinks they come in just to hurt her.


We stayed for a couple of hours, flexing Renee's arms and legs and talking to the aide. When Wendy stuck her head back in the room, I told her, "Renee has some knee braces and hand splints back at Town Manor. Maybe they should send them over."

"I'll check with our prosthetics department."


Family
1998/10/24 Saturday, Late Evening [Nina, Ferne and Don]
After returning from Lawrence, we called Nina and told her the story. It was quite a shock.

"Why didn't you at least tell us about the rape down in Columbia?" almost crying. "She's my sister!"

I could tell she must have felt we did her wrong. "We thought we had months to sort this out. It was Neil's big day, and we didn't want to spoil it. Mom and I were going to tell you as soon as we had more information. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"It's going to take me a while to understand this."

"Well... it's already in the press. Be prepared."

"Oh no, already?" Her training as a reporter and journalism major at Penn State kicked in. "Daddy, they will be relentless. Do you have anyone to help you? To speak for you? A lawyer?"

"I called the attorney I was going to use three years ago. I left a message, but he won't be in until Monday. Can you help?"

"I'm in the middle of mid-terms. But, I can come home next weekend."

When I hung up, how do I contact Neil? He's between training stations. I don't even have an address for him... only the name of the base he's going to. But when is he getting there?


Pages: 15
Words: 3001


EndNotes:

(1) New England Medical Center (NEMC), Boston Floating Hospital for Children, 750 Washington Street, Boston, MA.

(2) "Coma woman gives birth" originally available at http://www.eagletribune.com/news/stroies/19981024/FP_001.htm but the Eagle-Tribune web site has been redesigned and the article is now offline.