The man on the telephone repeated himself, “Are you Mr. Routledge, grandfather to…”, and he named off all of my grandkids by name. I replayed the first part of our conversation in my head, “Hello I am Detective Todd with the Juvenile Division.” Yes, I responded, those are my grandkids. “Good, we have been trying to reach you.” Those were the words no grandparent wanted to hear, “Are they alright?” I ask the man, yes, but we are taking Tiffany to jail and unless you pick the children up, we will turn them over to the Division of Family Services.
I left for Mount Vernon without delay. When I arrived at my daughter-in-law, Tiffany’s house I was met by Detective Todd. After I loaded all five of them into my 94 Ford Tempo away we went back to my house in Lockwood.
This was the conclusion to a saga that had begun seven years ago. It was around this time that my son Buddy got into drinking and drugs. Buddy had met a cute young girl named Tiffany at the Lockwood/Greenfield football grudge match. They were inseparable, that was all I ever heard about from Buddy, me and Tiffany this, me and Tiffany that.
Not long after that I found out Tiffany was pregnant with their first of five children. Buddy was working with his father-in-law digging graves and mowing graveyards, and lots of petty crime to support their alcohol/drug habits. Then he hit the big time when he stole a wallet and cashed some forged checks, did his time and was paroled. That lasted exactly one year and he was arrested for possession of burglary tools, then escaped and stole a deputy’s personal truck, his parole was revoked and he was returned back to prison.
The pressure was just too much for Tiffany and she abandoned the kids at the house. So here I am a new Dad at fifty years of age with five little screaming angels who do not deserve the suffering. Dear God, I am overwhelmed! Help! Oh, college is going great!
