In Memoriam: The Hon. Thomas R. Willenborg (1951-2010)
My last entry (which was on a filter-- so not everyone may have seen it) got me to thinking about the past, and I realized there's another entry I would have made in early March when I found out about this, had I been here. I correct the error now to celebrate the life and mourn the passing of Tom Willenborg.
He was my lawyer for most of the proceedings involving my children, and he got way more than he bargained for when he took on my very complicated case. He did a goodly number of things he didn't have to as the years dragged on, much of it pro bono. He was a genuinely good man, and he will be greatly missed.
I can't tell his half of the story without linking to this from a long while back. Because you can't understand quite what this man did for me and my kids, without understanding that my case was Always hopeless. There was no way I could win, and every short term gain was quickly shot down by the Cabinet and the other Powerful people who were on the other side with all the cards in their hands. Tom knew this, yet he never gave up, and he never let me give up, even when it would have made his emotional and professional life so much easier. Yes, one good person on the other side eventually came around, but we would not have been there for that to happen, and I would not have Wee Hob back growing up with me, if Tom had not stuck to his guns like he did.
I still remember his restless energy, his quick intellect, and his wisdom. I also remember his kindness. He visited me in jail right before Christmas 2001, after the Cabinet had convinced one of my kids to make criminal accusations, not against my ex, who had undoubtedly abused them, but against me, because I was the only one still seriously in the fight to get them back. There I was, scared and alone and very cold in the holding cell, where they kept me overnight before processing me into the jail proper the next day. There were already a number of drunks, and a very drug impaired woman who had attacked a police officer with a broken chair, among other things. Tom left a Christmas party in the vicinity to come see me. He assured me that he would be there for me, and that things would be okay, and gave me a much needed hug that sustained me though the next 36 hours until friends he called on my behalf were able to make bond for me. I got a larger bond than the lady who had attacked the police officer.
Tom set me to work doing research into my case, knowing I could find everything he could and maybe more, saving me probably thousands of dollars, and teaching me the valuable lesson that while I enjoyed the research, I would never be able to do what he did. He stared down judges and fate every day with courage and honor, and while my case affected him deeply (he often told me as much) he managed to keep his head and go on with his life despite the stress, and the crushingly high stakes.
For over three years he stood by me in every hearing and appearance. He negotiated the agreement that got me a chance at getting Wee Hob back, and comforted me as I made the choice to give up the others in the deal and then mourned the loss of all my other children. He stood by me one last time when formal custody was transferred to me, with the little Wee Hob standing by in the courtroom, somewhat bored, but I hope able to get, a little, what a momentous day it was for all of us.
I'm told that in his last days Dr. W visited him and reminded him about all the people he had helped over the years. She mentioned us by name and told him how well we were doing. He of course worked in the three Northern Kentucky counties and knew, as she did, how often our case is mentioned in many child protection cases, as the poster example of what Not to do. He took great pride and comfort in having been part of that. I just wish I had known he was ill. It was cancer, they say, and fairly quick.
He did know about my Beloved and was very happy for us. He even got my arrest record expunged about a year before his death-- the last time I saw him. He looked fine, then, and there were so many things to do with Wee Hob, and my Beloved, and getting married, and the new job. I would have liked to take Wee Hob by his office and let him see what a fine young man he has been growing into. And to tell him again what I often said, but still feel was far inadequate under the circumstances: Thank you.
The music I'm listening to is oddly appropriate: the last movement of the Brahms Requiem. The translation runs: "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow after them."
Tom's works will long follow him. I hope he rests well, and that his family take some comfort in knowing how much this one client loved and admired him.
He was my lawyer for most of the proceedings involving my children, and he got way more than he bargained for when he took on my very complicated case. He did a goodly number of things he didn't have to as the years dragged on, much of it pro bono. He was a genuinely good man, and he will be greatly missed.
I can't tell his half of the story without linking to this from a long while back. Because you can't understand quite what this man did for me and my kids, without understanding that my case was Always hopeless. There was no way I could win, and every short term gain was quickly shot down by the Cabinet and the other Powerful people who were on the other side with all the cards in their hands. Tom knew this, yet he never gave up, and he never let me give up, even when it would have made his emotional and professional life so much easier. Yes, one good person on the other side eventually came around, but we would not have been there for that to happen, and I would not have Wee Hob back growing up with me, if Tom had not stuck to his guns like he did.
I still remember his restless energy, his quick intellect, and his wisdom. I also remember his kindness. He visited me in jail right before Christmas 2001, after the Cabinet had convinced one of my kids to make criminal accusations, not against my ex, who had undoubtedly abused them, but against me, because I was the only one still seriously in the fight to get them back. There I was, scared and alone and very cold in the holding cell, where they kept me overnight before processing me into the jail proper the next day. There were already a number of drunks, and a very drug impaired woman who had attacked a police officer with a broken chair, among other things. Tom left a Christmas party in the vicinity to come see me. He assured me that he would be there for me, and that things would be okay, and gave me a much needed hug that sustained me though the next 36 hours until friends he called on my behalf were able to make bond for me. I got a larger bond than the lady who had attacked the police officer.
Tom set me to work doing research into my case, knowing I could find everything he could and maybe more, saving me probably thousands of dollars, and teaching me the valuable lesson that while I enjoyed the research, I would never be able to do what he did. He stared down judges and fate every day with courage and honor, and while my case affected him deeply (he often told me as much) he managed to keep his head and go on with his life despite the stress, and the crushingly high stakes.
For over three years he stood by me in every hearing and appearance. He negotiated the agreement that got me a chance at getting Wee Hob back, and comforted me as I made the choice to give up the others in the deal and then mourned the loss of all my other children. He stood by me one last time when formal custody was transferred to me, with the little Wee Hob standing by in the courtroom, somewhat bored, but I hope able to get, a little, what a momentous day it was for all of us.
I'm told that in his last days Dr. W visited him and reminded him about all the people he had helped over the years. She mentioned us by name and told him how well we were doing. He of course worked in the three Northern Kentucky counties and knew, as she did, how often our case is mentioned in many child protection cases, as the poster example of what Not to do. He took great pride and comfort in having been part of that. I just wish I had known he was ill. It was cancer, they say, and fairly quick.
He did know about my Beloved and was very happy for us. He even got my arrest record expunged about a year before his death-- the last time I saw him. He looked fine, then, and there were so many things to do with Wee Hob, and my Beloved, and getting married, and the new job. I would have liked to take Wee Hob by his office and let him see what a fine young man he has been growing into. And to tell him again what I often said, but still feel was far inadequate under the circumstances: Thank you.
The music I'm listening to is oddly appropriate: the last movement of the Brahms Requiem. The translation runs: "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow after them."
Tom's works will long follow him. I hope he rests well, and that his family take some comfort in knowing how much this one client loved and admired him.