Casey Anthony family “dysfunctionality,” West Point Day Care Ritual Abuse Case
July 8, 2011 Comments Off on Casey Anthony family “dysfunctionality,” West Point Day Care Ritual Abuse Case
also: Video of the documented CIA mind control history 1979
Jesse Grund, Casey Anthony’s Ex-Fiance, Calls Family A ‘Carnival Of Dysfunctionality.’
Casey Anthony’s ex-fiance Jesse Grund calls the Anthony family a “carnival of dysfunctionality.” In an interview with NBC’s Matt Lauer, Grund says he witnessed the dynamics between Casey, her parents, and her brother, and says that “there is no way Casey goes back home.”
“There is no way they have any semblance of a normal family life,” he says.
Video of the documented CIA mind control history 1979 http://www.brasschecktv.com/videos/government-corruption/control-freaks-sadists-and-thugs.html
permission to publish the article in full
West Point Day Care Sexual Abuse Case with Ritual Abuse allegations
Cunningham, Douglas and Alan Snel “A Legacy of Pain: Settlement Doesn’t Ease Abused Children’s Fears,” The Times Herald Record (Middletown, New York), June 11, 1991.
The Times Herald-Record
Copyright (c) 1991, The Times Herald-Record
Long : 227 lines
Tuesday, June 11, 1991
Final North News 4
By DOUGLAS CUNNINGHAM and ALAN SNEL Staff Writers
The Record photos: A new sign indicates a building number change. The red brick West Point Child Development Center was at the center of controversy in 1984. Mug photos: Judge W. Knapp William E. Crain Dr. Walter R. Grote
Record photo by Jeff Goulding: New center Director Nancy Campbell-Capen, above, talks about improvements to the building, including viewing windows in doors.
The Record photo: The West Point Child Development Center as it was in the mid-1980s, when the child abuse charges first surfaced. Back then, the building number was 666, leading to speculation that the abuse was satanically motivated.
A LEGACY OF PAIN SETTLEMENT DOESN’T EASE ABUSED CHILDREN’S FEARS
Seven years have passed since she was sexually abused at West Point’s child-care center. Yet today, the 10-year-old girl can’t go to the bathroom without her mother waiting by the door.
The girl – who was 3 when West Point child-care workers were accused of sexually abusing her and 10 other children in 1984 – also asks her mother about whether she will be able to bear children when she grows up.
“This happened seven years ago, and it’s not any better,” the girl’s mother said. “She’s constantly asking, `What if we’re out in the store, Mommy, and we see these people? Are they going to hurt me?’ . . . But this is constantly on her mind because she knows these people are not in jail for what they did.”
In the U.S. District Court files in Manhattan, the West Point sexual abuse case is resolved. The government failed in 1985 to indict any suspects in its criminal investigation. But last month, it settled a civil suit brought by the parents of the 11 victims. Nine of the victims will receive $2.7 million, with awards ranging from $25,000 to $625,000.
But even as the legal dust has settled, the case lingers as a legacy of pain for the families.
“These people stole our children,” the mother said. “(She’s) nothing like she used to be. She’s a very angry little girl. She doesn’t trust anyone. She’s nothing like she was before this happened.
“It’s never going to be over for them, or for us.”
The case began in 1984, when allegations surfaced of sexual and physical abuse of children at the West Point Child Development Center.
The incidents unfolded against a backdrop of satanic acts, animal sacrifices and cult-like behavior among the abusers, whose activities extended beyond the U.S. Military Academy borders to Orange County and a military base in San Francisco, parents charged.
The specter of satanism would later spur U.S. Military Academy officials to change the West Point child-care center’s building number from 666 to 673.
Despite 950 interviews by 60 FBI agents assigned to the investigation, an investigation led by former U.S. Attorney Rudolph Giuliani produced no federal grand jury indictments. The investigation did find “significant indications that children may have been abused” at the center.
Until now, no official reports or investigations have verified the sexual abuse. The Times Herald-Record, however, has learned that a still-secret, independent report – prepared by one of the nation’s top experts on child sexual abuse – confirms the children’s accusations of abuse. The report also played a vital role in ending the seven-year legal ordeal and in enabling the case to be settled without the children undergoing potentially hostile questioning on the witness stand, said U.S. District Judge Whitman Knapp, who heard the civil case.
The expert, Dr. Ann Wolbert Burgess, a professor of psychiatric nursing at the University of Pennsylvania at Philadelphia and the author of the book, “Child Pornography and Sex Rings,” entered the case in 1989.
She interviewed all the children. She said yesterday that her goal in the case had been to reduce harm to the children because testimony in open court could have triggered symptoms of abuse, prompted by a “resurfacing” of the original incident.
Knapp said that because Burgess worked for neither the government nor the plaintiffs, but reported directly to the court, her findings carried additional credibility. Neither Burgess nor others would speak about her specific findings.
“You can draw your own conclusions from the fact that (the government) paid all this money,” Knapp said about Burgess’ report. “The government wouldn’t have likely paid that money unless the report gave them a basis for doing that.”
The families’ lawyer, William E. Crain, who now practices in Elkin, N.C., and formerly worked in Newburgh, said the report is independent confirmation of the children’s claims. He received nearly $300,000 in legal fees in the case. The amount, 25 percent of the settlement, is set by law.
“Just generally speaking, it corroborated the children’s allegations they had been sexually abused by day-care center staff,” Crain said of the report.
“That report was sealed and has never been seen by anybody else and I hope it never will be,” Knapp said. “That has all the intimate details of what happened to these children. Certainly, they don’t want to be plagued by that when they grow up.”
The government, however, admitted none of the allegations in making the settlement. Edward T. Ferguson III, the assistant U.S. attorney in charge of the case, declined to comment on Burgess’ role. He said that the settlement was in the best interests of the children and did not require them to testify in court.
“Everyone involved – the parents, the government and the court – all wished to avoid (the children taking the witness stand), if an accommodation could be reached,” Ferguson said.
Among other things, several of the settlements – made individually with each child’s family – provide for medical costs, counseling and a college fund. The actual cost of the settlement is $1.175 million. Much of the money will be invested and paid out during the victims’ lives, thereby increasing the total to $2.7 million.
“They’re children. They’re going to have to live with what happened to them. So are their parents,” Crain said. “But in terms of legal work, the legal end of it is finished.”
Nancy Campbell-Capen’s job began just four months ago. West Point hired the New Jersey native to run its child-care program, including the center, a red-brick building tucked on a hill between playing fields and a playground.
Ms. Campbell-Capen recalled talking about the sexual abuse case with her boss and other center staffers.
“More people were reacting to the media coverage than the actual possible event,” Ms. Campbell-Capen said she was told.
The center serves 150 children – 80 percent from military families and 20 percent from civilian workers. There are 120 children on a waiting list for the center that now complies with federal guidelines, which were strengthened in 1989.
“They certainly tightened the old regulations,” said Ms. Campbell-Capen, who ran child-care centers at Army bases in Germany. “We discovered the need to tighten up with staff training.”
Only a handful of the center’s 86 workers remain from the 1984 staff. Ms. Campbell-Capen said the staff had no response to the lawsuit settlement.
The center is trying to receive accreditation from the National Association for the Education of Young Children.
The center’s dedication to meeting child-care standards contrasts with the way victims’ parents were treated when they sought to alert West Point and the military that their children had been sexually violated.
The Army’s reaction to the parents’ plight so enraged former Army Dr. Walter R. Grote that the ex-captain refused a promotion to major in 1985 because of the treatment of his child’s sexual abuse case at West Point. He was one of the first parents to file the lawsuit, but later dropped out of seeking money from the case.
“Unfortunately, money can’t . . . undo the trauma incurred by scores of children at West Point . . . because people with responsibility didn’t exercise that responsibility,” said Grote, now in private practice in New Jersey. “What the hell is a settlement? . . . They could have caught these people doing it at the time that they were doing it.
“We have a tendency to think that everything that’s evil and bad is on the other side of the Pacific or the Atlantic.
“And that’s not the case.”
The mother of the 10-year-old said the settlement will pay her daughter’s college bills. But the mother said she would have preferred the government kept its money and punished the abusers.
Without the prosecution, West Point has retained its polished national image, she said. Even last month, the government admitted none of the allegations in making the settlement, a reminder of what parents say was West Point’s callous denial.
“They wouldn’t acknowledge what happened,” the mother said. “I’m sure if it was done anywhere else but West Point, it would have been acknowledged.”
Another parent whose son was sexually abused recalled that the Army was not prepared to treat satanic abuse.
“You had a bunch of kids who had some kind of abuse and the concerns of the parents seeking assistance fell on deaf ears. The medical treatment for the satanic abuse was not meeting the bill. It was far beyond what (the Army) could handle,” said Maj. Bob Caslen, an infantry officer reached stationed at Fort Campbell, Ky.
Two teacher aides were suspended and later quit after the charges surfaced.
After a federal grand jury failed to return indictments, community members joined the parents in calling for another investigation in 1985.
Joan Benedict walked with parents at a protest in Highland Falls in hopes of inspiring another probe. And she was a member of an Orange County anti-pornography group that sponsored a forum to allow the victims’ parents to speak out in 1986.
Ms. Benedict said she used to pray and walk at West Point because of the 189-year-old institution’s majestic Hudson River views. But no more.
“When I saw the headlines of the child pornography ring at West Point, it cut me to the heart,” Ms. Benedict said. “I know West Point is only surface beauty. They were outright cruel to the parents.”
Ms. Benedict, a Town of Cornwall resident, started her own crusade to spark the Justice Department to reopen the abuse case. She ended her efforts in 1988 when she was convinced of a federal cover-up after receiving a letter from the U.S. Department of Justice.
Mary C. Spearing, a special attorney with the Justice Department’s National Obscenity Enforcement Unit, wrote that the case was closed.
“Unfortunately, no new evidence, revelation or hint of wrongdoing or negligence surfaced during our review,” she wrote. She noted in her letter that the assistant U.S. attorney on the case was a father of four and that she had two children herself.
The monetary settlement, however, did not resolve the parents’ bitterness over what they still maintain was a botched FBI investigation. In fact, court papers filed by parents showed federal investigators not only refused to believe the children, but, in some cases, also criticized some parents for not keeping their children under control in their homes.
“When the agents came to the house, they did not appear to have a tape recorder and they were not taking notes during the interview,” one parent said in a sworn statement, according to 1984 court papers. “He became annoyed and frustrated and said, `It looks like she’s just trying to get attention.’ ”
Recalled Grote: “The tragedy is the abusers could have been caught . . . with a little imagination and a lot less chauvinistic narcissism on the part of West Point and the initial FBI investigator.”
Prosecutor Giuliani did not return calls last week. In 1987, Giuliani said his detailed investigation showed only one or two children were abused. The federal investigation cleared the center staff members accused by the children.
The mother of the 10-year-old girl still tries to cope with the abuse’s aftermath.
“As far as I’m concerned, the government gave them a license to go out and abuse other children,” the mother said. “I have to explain to my daughter these people are still out there.
“And she still has nightmares. She’s afraid they’re going to come through the window at night to get her.”
Despite sexual abuse charges that surfaced in 1984 and a $1 million renovation of the building, the West Point day-care center was hit with 79 violations in January 1988. Here are some of the violations found by the 14-member Pentagon task force and how they have been resolved:
– Doors lacked windows. According to inspectors, this “increases the potential for child abuse.” All center doors now have windows.
– No background checks. The names of the 22 child-care providers were not submitted to the Army Central Registry to determine whether they had prior criminal records. All employees now have background checks done.
– Unprotected electrical outlets. All outlets now have protective caps.
– Toilets not immediately adjacent to activity areas. Restrooms have been renovated and child-size toilets have been installed.
– Some workers, from the center’s acting director to receptionists, did not receive proper training. Training has begun.
An Army Child Care Evaluation team spent a week in August scrutinizing the center and did not list any infractions, said Ray Aalbue, a West Point spokesman.