A Father's Love (30 page)

Often, when Ricardo put on his black legal robe before entering a courtroom, he looked so young and timid compared with the seasoned players against whom he was preparing to do battle. Nevertheless, despite their youth, Ricardo and his partners were as bold as they were brilliant. They had brought us a long way.

By midafternoon on Monday, however, nothing had happened; no ruling had come down. Though Ricardo and Marcos tried to maintain hope, I could see the tension in their faces. Even Congressman Smith seemed concerned. From one of his many calls back to his chief of staff, Mary Noonan, he had learned that Senator Frank Lautenberg's Democratic colleagues were demanding that the senator withdraw his hold on the GSP money by the time the Senate was to go out of session, which was likely December 23 or 24, whether Sean was released or not.

On the phone with Senator Lautenberg, Congressman Smith discussed separating the bill, releasing the GSP provisions for all countries
except
Brazil. While Senator Lautenberg was mulling that over, Congressman Smith handed me the phone. The senator asked me how I was holding up, and then briefed me on what was happening regarding the GSP.

“Thank you so much, sir,” I began respectfully.

He cut me off. “Sir? I'm Frank,” he said amiably. “Look, I have this hold that is affecting over one hundred countries, and even my staff is telling me that this is political suicide to do this. I told them, ‘Suicide? I'm eighty years old. What suicide?' But the truth is, David, I can't keep the hold on forever, but I will keep it on as long as possible. When will a decision be made?”

“We're hoping no more than two days at the latest,” I replied.

“Okay, let me know as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir . . . er, yes, Frank, I will. Thank you so much.”

“Hang in there, David. I won't go away, and I'll do whatever I can to help get your son home. But keep me updated.”

 

 

AS HOUR AFTER hour dragged by, the tension increased commensurately. I stayed in the hotel room, ready and waiting should there be a decision. I kept telling myself,
There's a reason why the judge is taking so long. He wants to make a really sound decision, and hopefully that will work to our advantage
.

Waiting ... waiting ... and more waiting. I couldn't go out anywhere without causing a public spectacle. I suppose there was also some measure of danger. Because of the visibility of the case, I no longer considered threats to my life as likely. Still, crazier things had happened. My attorneys advised me to stay inside as much as possible, just to be safe.

During those tense days in December, Mark DeAngelis and I kept in touch by e-mail, and Bob D'Amico wrote daily updates for our Web site, trying to keep people apprised of the surreal situation in which we were immersed in Brazil. Bernie Aronson called several times from Wales, where he was spending the holiday season with his daughter, and offered great encouragement and sound advice. Bob Gelbard continued to provide information to the administration and to both U.S. and foreign diplomats with whom he had connections to keep them informed of the developments.

Larry King e-mailed me, “As the father of two children, my heart is with you.”

John Walsh, the host of television's
America's Most Wanted
, also called to encourage me and offered to help. “Anything I can do, anything you need,” he said.

I've always respected John and the tremendous work he has done helping families find justice. On some level I understood the pain he has suffered with the loss of his beloved son, Adam. For every child John helps, with every criminal he tracks down and brings to justice, he is answering a calling of honor and truth and justice that he didn't receive. John knows he can't bring his son back, but he refuses to stand by idly when he can do something to help others avoid the same emotional scars with which he lives every day.

There was some concern that the Ribeiros or Lins e Silvas would take Sean and hide somewhere. John assured me that if that happened, he would use every resource at his disposal to help track them down and bring Sean home. I thanked him for his commitment and his calm words of assurance. I was very grateful for John's kind offer and his encouraging words.

 

 

LOOKING OUT THE window of my oceanfront hotel room, I watched families with young children Sean's age frolicking on Copacabana Beach. Ordinarily, I would have enjoyed a room like this. Earlier in my life, I associated hotel rooms with happy times, with vacations to exotic places and new experiences. Now I was beginning to think that I might never want to see another hotel room. Besides, this was more like a war room than a hotel room. It had television and Internet access, so we could keep up with what was happening regarding our case. Congressman Smith worked with his computer and cell phone. I spent long hours on my computer and cell phone, as well. From morning to night, the room was constantly filled with people, so the atmosphere was a perpetual frenzy. Ricardo or Marcos darted in and out, giving instructions or opinions and taking phone calls. Orna Blum, the U.S. embassy press officer, nearly got calluses on her thumbs from working with her BlackBerry communicating with both the embassy in Brasília and the people in the State Department back home.

Benita Noel, the NBC producer, and her assistant stopped in regularly, coordinating coverage with the NBC staff in Rio and setting up coverage with the network. Since our first meeting following my initial appearance on the
Today
show, Benita had been the consummate media professional, but I knew her heart was with Sean and me. Now here she was giving up her pre-Christmas festivities to be with us in Brazil. She was a real trouper. This was her fourth trip to Brazil to cover the story, and each trip provided her less advance warning and less certainty about the outcome. She had literally gotten the call for this trip while trimming a Christmas tree with her six-year-old daughter. She was hoping to get home in time to finish the decorations before the holiday.

Karen Gustafson de Andrade worked quietly in the corner of the room. She was the U.S. State Department's resource person for all matters pertaining to the Hague Convention. Karen had been with me during the first “supervised” visits with Sean, and had seen firsthand the abuse to which he was subjected. This was no longer just a “case” for her; it was personal.

U.S. consulate officials, lawyers, journalists, and television reporters constantly came and went. Each morning, Congressman Smith and I were interviewed by Meredith Vieira as we sat in front of the window, with Copacabana Beach in the distant background.

Instinctively, I knew that I dared not get caught up in the chaos, that somehow I had to “ice my emotions,” to remain calm, clearheaded, and focused. So while the room often turned into a madhouse, I sat stretched out on the bed, wearing casual shorts and a T-shirt, working puzzles in a book that Wendy had given to me. I refused to let my emotions be batted back and forth like a Ping-Pong ball by the latest pronouncements from the opposition or all the legal machinations swirling all around me. Though the outward signs looked promising, I had seen this movie before. Glimpses of progress, an expected ruling, my hopes soaring and then dashed to the ground again. I could not take that anymore.

Throughout the ordeal, Congressman Smith remained steady; he was a tremendous encourager, keeping all of us focused on one issue: “Let's bring Sean home.” He stayed close to me the entire time. He sat with me during the intensely stressful moments. He prayed with me. We watched the news reports and ate our meals together. He went with me for every interview, often interjecting things that I could not say without putting myself in legal jeopardy. He was like a big brother to me, providing a strong shoulder for me to lean on. Whenever Congressman Smith had to take a sensitive call from Washington, speaking with other congressmen and senators, he slipped into the hotel room's bathroom or went out in the hallway. Other than that, as long as we were awake, he stayed by my side, shoulder to shoulder, just as he had promised when we first met.

At one point, with the pressure in the room rising because of the opposition's manipulations, against my lawyers' cautions, Congressman Smith and I made a quiet exit, went down the elevator, and slipped out the side door of the hotel. We hastily walked down the street to a nearby church and stepped inside. It felt good to be out of the hotel room, and even better to be in a house of worship. The sanctuary was small and quiet, with people moving about reverently. Congressman Smith and I were immersed in our own silent thoughts and prayers when a man walked over to me. He stared at me for a few seconds and then asked, “Are you the one?”

I didn't say anything, but simply gave him a friendly nod and made it clear from my body language that I wanted to pray. It was a weird moment, and I wasn't sure how to interpret it. The man didn't say anything else; he simply sat down in one of the church pews. Maybe he was praying for me; I sure hoped so.

The NBC crew members covering the story discovered that we were missing and followed the congressman and me to the church, although they were very respectful of our privacy. They allowed us to have our moments of meditation undisturbed by prying cameras.

The constant competition between television networks was interesting to observe, and might have been downright humorous at times, had it not centered around Sean and me. Understandably, NBC felt protective of the story, since they had aired the initial
Today
show interview and the subsequent
Dateline NBC
piece that drew so much attention to my plight. I was glad they wanted to cover the story, but I was unwilling to give anyone exclusivity, and, in fact, I was thankful for any and every news agency that could bring light to the insanity with which we were dealing and help keep the pressure on the Brazilian government to do the right thing.

“Look, I'm not signed with anyone, and I don't want to be. I am not obligated to do anything,” I told the various network representatives. “I know you have been kind to me, and I appreciate it. I understand that this is a business for you, but I'm here to get my son. That's all that matters to me. I'm not here to meet your demands and expectations, or to get in the middle of your media fight with other networks. I have to worry about my son and getting us back together.”

At no point did I receive any money from any media source for our story, and I personally took no money from anyone associated with our story. We received some donations to the Bring Sean Home Web site, and that money was specifically given to help defray the costs of my attorneys. Other funds were used to help raise public awareness about other abduction cases.

I felt confident that the folks at NBC were truly trying to help me. Plus, I had forged a strong relationship with Meredith Vieira and Benita Noel, who had been covering the story in earnest for nearly a year. For the most part, NBC's attitude seemed to be “We have the resources; we can help this guy, so let's do it.” At the same time, ABC was now aggressively pursuing the story as well, with reporters on the scene in Rio. CBS also was covering the story from Brazil, but because the network had brought Silvana, Lins e Silva, and Tostes to the United States to do an interview with Harry Smith and allowed the abductors to blatantly lie and slander me on national television while they held my son illegally, I was skeptical of their intentions. Nevertheless, the network's coverage helped keep the heat on Brazil, so I was grateful for it. CNN and Fox jumped in anytime it seemed something significant might happen in the case.

 

 

BY SIX O'CLOCK Monday evening, we were all on tenterhooks, waiting for a call from Brasília that would bring news of Chief Justice Mendes's ruling. His decision, no doubt, would not be as long as Judge Pinto's eighty-two-page explanation of why Sean should be returned to me—unless Mendes was explaining the opposite. So every moment the process dragged on without a ruling intensified our concern. Marcos had kept his telephone line open so Paulo Roberto Andrade could get through to us immediately if anything happened at the Supreme Court. Suddenly his phone rang, and the flurry of activity in my hotel room instantly stopped. All eyes turned toward Marcos. He pressed the phone to his ear, then quickly shook his head. It was nothing.

By six-thirty, I was resigned to the fact that Sean and I would not be reunited that day. Worse yet, Ricardo's partner had called again from Brasília with news that the Lins e Silvas and Ribeiros had reopened a previous case—one dating back prior to Bruna's death—at the Superior Tribunal of Justice. Ricardo was furious. I was numb, but inside I moaned,
No, no, no! This cannot be happening!
We had a case before the Supreme Court of the land. How could they possibly be allowed to circumvent that by opening a case in a lower court?

Around eight o'clock, Paulo Roberto Andrade called once more from Brasília. “The decision on the writs of mandamus has been postponed until tomorrow.”

I was devastated, but Ricardo remained hopeful. “Gilmar Mendes could simply have said there was no rush and that he would wait for the end of the judicial recess,” he said. “To do so, he would need to write no more than five lines. He wouldn't need to take as many hours as he is.”

With no decision forthcoming that evening, one by one, the crowd of people began to slip from my room. The lawyers and embassy officials were camped out in Ricardo's room. Benita went back to her own hotel room. Orna Blum went to her room, and Karen went home to her family. One of the last to leave was Congressman Smith.

The congressman is a kind man and a good man, a bulwark of integrity and composure, but with the legal shenanigans being played out in the Brazilian courts, and the subsequent emotional distress inflicted upon all of us, especially me, his patience was wearing thin. That night, after we learned that the decision had been postponed and another legal case reopened, he told NBC reporter Jeff Rossen, “We need to take the gloves off.” The congressman again suggested U.S. sanctions against Brazil until they allowed me to take Sean home.