Shelter for battered women to open in Isanti County

Note: This story won first place in the Minnesota Newspaper Association annual contest in 2008 in the Best Social Feature category.

$200,000 grant from United Way makes Black Dog Hill Shelter possible.

by Tesha M. Christensen

STAR Assistant Editor

A shelter for battered women will soon open up in east central Minnesota.

It is for women like Teena Carson, who faced physical and emotional abuse at the hands of the man she loved. When she did leave, he stalked her and their two children and threatened to kill her.

The shelter is for women like Penny Peters, whose ex-boyfriend drove his truck into her Rush City home one night and then stabbed her six times.

It is for women like Carol Folsom's sister, Barb, who was murdered in Mora by her boyfriend on June 8, 1996.

It is for these women and others who until now have had to leave their homes, their jobs, their family and their friends for shelters in the Twin Cities area.

Because of the distance involved, neither Carson nor Peters nor Folsom's sister went to a shelter.

If she had left the night her ex threatened to show up at her house and kill her, Carson thinks she might have been able to sleep.

Peters thinks she might not have felt so afraid.

Folsom wonders if her sister might have lived.

IS A RURAL SHELTER NEEDED?

Some question whether a shelter is needed in the rural area.

Dave Ellis of the Twin Cities United Way knows that it is. He believes that the reason so many instances of domestic violence aren't reported locally is because of the lack of resources for women in Isanti and Chisago counties.

"I can't imagine what it would be like to move everything into the Twin Cities," observed Ellis.

"The lack of a local shelter means women are forced to choose between staying with an abuser or leaving home," pointed out The Refuge Board Chair and Isanti County Commissioner Susan Morris during a special ceremony at the Black Dog Hill Shelter on Friday, July 18, 2008.

A report in 1991 by the Minnesota Center Against Violence and Abuse pinpointed the need for a shelter in this region.

In fact, according to The Refuge, which serves Isanti, Chisago and Kanabec counties, there were 36 families that could have benefited from a shelter in the area in 2007.

Because of the need, the United Way has made a donation to The Refuge. The shelter will receive $100,000 to add onto to the three-bedroom farmhouse and another $100,000 for program costs. This won't pay for everything, and The Refuge is embarking on a fundraising campaign to come up with the rest. Prior to this donation, The Refuge had been receiving about $15,000 a year from United Way.

The size of the $200,000 donation to one organization in Isanti County is unprecedented, pointed out Ellis, but is proof of the United Way's commitment to decreasing domestic violence in order to achieve family stability.

"United Way is proud to be a part of this," said Ellis.

"The mission of the United Way is to unite caring people to build a stronger community every day," said Frank Forsberg on behalf of the Twin Cities United Way Board. "I can't think of a better example of caring people."

THE BLACK DOG SHELTER

You could say that the shelter was inspired by Oprah.

After watching her show on domestic violence two women (who wish to remain anonymous) took her challenge to heart. They would do what they could to stop domestic violence.

They decided to donate their second house, an immaculately-kept farmhouse with 10 acres, for use as a shelter. A quick Internet search revealed that the local service for those in abusive situations was The Refuge. A call was placed and the offer made.

From the board's point of view, the donation came out of nowhere.

It took the board several months to decide whether to accept it or not, knowing this would double The Refuge budget. While staff had dreamed about having a shelter, it was in the future, not within the next year.

As the board hesitated, they began researching possible grants. They learned they couldn't get the grants without having the property, but they didn't want to accept the property without having a grant, recalled former board chair and Chisago County Commissioner Lynn Schultz.

The board finally decided to take a leap of faith. "It looks like it is meant to be," said Schultz.

With the acceptance of the farmhouse came the donation from United Way.

The shelter will open later this year, following an expansion of additional rooms and office space. When it is complete, the shelter will have room to house 15 women and children. Staff will monitor the shelter 24 hours a day. Advocates will help residents set goals and find jobs, go back to school and figure out how to live on a fixed income. Services will be free of charge, and there will be no limit on the length of time women can stay.

A support group for women affected by physical violence will be offered. A youth advocate will work with children and help them develop a safety plan in case they are ever in a dangerous situation again.

"This is an incredibly exciting time for the Refuge," said Karelis.

"We believe this to be a tranquil, peaceful place that women and children can come to relax. They can rejuvenate and rebuild their lives."

Their stories

TEENA'S STORY

"Many people say 'Get out and get safe' as if it were that easy," said Teena Carson.

"It truly would have been a valuable resource to have in Chisago County at the time," said Carson.

"He sounded so desperate, and I knew he had nothing to lose. I was so afraid it hurt to breathe. "

Too many times people turn away from those who have suffered from domestic abuse, noted Carson. Instead, these women who have such deep self-hatred and suffer humiliation need to hear a few kind words. "I'm so sorry you have had such a bad experience."

She no longer has the husband and the home with the white picket fence and 2.5 kids. But she's flying high because she's found her voice again. She's found herself.

"I can't even begin to explain what a valuable resource The Refuge has been," said Carson.

"When my friends and family had walked away because they were overwhelmed by the situation, Shellene Johnson was there. Without Shellene I would have stayed a victim and would not have become a survivor."

PENNY'S STORY

Penny Peters spent 13 years of her life with her abuser. "Statistics say it takes seven times to leave," she pointed out. Over the course of time that it takes, friends and family get tired of hearing, "I really mean it this time. I'm leaving."

"They don't believe you any more and they get tired of bailing you out every time you call, so you stop talking to them," said Peters.

It was when she went to The Refuge and spoke to a staff member who had been in her shoes that Peters was finally able to stop the pattern of violence. "That made all the difference to me," said Peters.

At The Refuge, Shaleen offered to take Peters' pets until she was back on her feet. Fearing for her pets had stopped Peters from leaving before, because her ex-boyfriend threatened to harm them if she did leave.

The Refuge "saved my life," said Peters.

"Now I have the chance to be happy again," she noted.

CAROL'S STORY

Twelve years, one month and 12 days ago, Carol Folsom was returning rom a baseball game when she learned that her sister had been gunned down in cold blood along with a friend, by her ex. He then turned the gun on himself, making it a double murder/suicide.

"You feel like screaming and yelling and crying and hitting," said Folsom, "but there is nothing you can do for the loved one we have lost."

People told her the pain would go away eventually. It hasn't. It may scab over, but it always getting bumped and bleeds again, she said.

Folson offered this advice to people trying to decide whether to leave someone. "The right time to bring change in your life is when you begin to die to keep something in your life," she advised.

THE REFUGE

• Helps 1,200 new victims a year

• Makes over 5,500 contacts with victims a year

• Offers safe houses for short stays of up to 72 hours

• Sees that kids are involved in 3/4th of the cases

• Teaches classes at Ogilvie High School, Mora High School and Cambridge-Isanti High School

• Spends $280,000 a year on existing programs

• Helps victims through the court process (explaining services and how the process will go)

• Has six staff members

• Directed by Roxie Karelis

THE NEW SHELTER WILL

•Total 2,800-square-feet after the expansion

• House up to 15 women and children

• Be available free of charge

• Provide space for pets

WHY BLACK DOG HILL?

•Dudley, a black dog, used to live at the farm with the last two owners. The farm was named after him in 2000.

REUNITED: Same face on two people

Adopted daughter finds birth mother after 21 years.

NOTE: This story was printed in the STAR newspaper in 2006. I earned Best Feature Story from the Minnesota Newspaper Association later that year.

by Tesha M. Christensen

STAR Assistant Editor

Every spring since she gave birth to a baby girl on St. Patrick’s Day and then gave her up for adoption, Cindy Reisen’s thoughts have turned towards her daughter.

This year, for the first time ever, Cindy was able to wish that little girl, now age 22, a jubilant happy birthday.

Because last year, on Mother’s Day weekend, the two women reconnected.

Separate lives

One year ago, Cindy treated her 15-year-old son to a special evening out on St. Patrick’s Day. North Branch residents, the duo struck east for Cambridge to spend their evening at the Hardy Center listening to Celtic singer Katie McMahon. As the music washed over Cindy, so did memories of the St. Patrick’s Day 21 years earlier when she’d given birth to a daughter she named Anne Marie.

Cindy herself had been a 21-year-old art student when she got into trouble. After dating her boyfriend Kim just a three months, she found herself pregnant. A staunch pro-life advocate, abortion was never an option. Yet, she didn’t know if she and Kim could make it married with a baby.

So she made one of the most difficult decisions of her life, just as her mother before had done. She chose to give her baby up for adoption.

As she explained it in a letter she wrote to the baby shortly after birth, “When I was pregnant with you, I knew I wasn’t emotionally ready for motherhood. I felt you would be lacking so many important things, and that I wouldn’t be an adequate mother.

“That is why your father and I chose to give you up for adoption. So you could be given the same chance I was: to grow up in a stable home with both a mom and a dad, and a secure future.”

She never held her baby in the hospital, instead leaving her care up to the nurses. She was too afraid that once she did, she’d never let go.

After that, whenever Cindy smelled the scent of hyacinths, she was transported back to that hospital room and thoughts of the beautiful, tiny child she gave up weighed heavily upon her mind. She had no idea where the girl was living or if she was still alive.

March 17, 2005, is a day Cindy had long looked forward to. It was the day her baby girl could officially begin looking for her.

At intermission of the Katie McMahon concert, Cindy passed McMahon’s husband a note. “Twenty-one years ago I gave my baby girl Anne Marie up for adoption. Today’s the day she becomes legal and can start searching for me if she wants to. Would you play us a song?”

Shortly after coming back from the break, the lights on stage dimmed, and McMahon gently begin strumming her harp strings. She dedicated the next song to a very strong mother and her daughter Anne Marie.

As the music of “Danny Boy” filled the hall, Cindy wept.

Water under the bridge

Life had never lived up to the perfect dream she’d pictured when young. So much water has gone under the bridge, according to Cindy. Four years after Anne Marie’s birth, Cindy and Kim did marry. It was a good Catholic honeymoon, and nine months later, Cindy gave birth to their second child, a son they named Cody. This time they were ready to raise a child. At least Cindy was.

Kim struggled with manic depression, and although she tried very hard, Cindy couldn’t fix him.

She could do something, though. She could warn her daughter.

The second letter

Renamed Katherine Marie by her adoptive parents Tom Mumaw and Deb Carpentier, Katie was 17 when the second letter arrived via Catholic Charities. She was at her dad’s house when strangely her mother and older sister Sarah showed up. They excitedly handed her the letter, and she begin to read.

“Dearest Daughter Anne Marie,

“It’s so hard to comprehend that nearly 16 years have passed since you were born. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of or prayed for you. I’ve wondered about your childhood – was it as blessed and happy as mine?”

After talking about what the interim years had brought about in her life and encouraging Anne Marie to listen to her parents, Cindy laid out her family’s health history. “The reason for all this background is this: I want you to be on the lookout. Manic depression and bi-polar disorder can be inherited, but don’t freak out! Just do a little research and see if any of the stuff applies to you.”

Katie could finally point to a cause for her own manic depression diagnosis. She wasn’t just a screw-up. The chemical imbalance was passed through her genes and could be treated. “That was a nice thing to know,” Katie said.

Three other things stood out for her in the letter. She had a full-blooded brother, her birth mother had also performed in a show choir, and her birth mother hoped that one day Katie would gcome looking for her.

Katie’s childhood

The adoption of their second child, Katie, completed the Mumaw family. As Cindy had hoped, Katie grew up without lacking anything. She lived on a farm during her earliest years, learning how to ride horses. At age four, her parents divorced, but the girls remained close with both their mother and father, who remarried, adding two step-siblings to the family.

At age six or seven while she and her sister Sarah were hunting around in her mother’s closet for Christmas presents, they found the letters their birth parents had sent. At first Katie figured their mother had been adopted, but her wiser older sister quickly discerned it was the two of them who had been.

Their mother confirmed the news, stressing that while she hadn’t given birth to them, she’d picked them to be her daughters. Katie grew up believing that giving a baby up is the most unselfish thing a mother can do. As the adoption creed hanging in their home said, “Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone, but still miraculously my own. Never forget for a single minute: You didn't grow under my heart, but in it.” (The wall hanging had been fashioned by Cindy and given to her daughter’s parents.)

While she accepted her parents as her parents and loved them, Katie still had nagging questions. She was determined to someday find her birth parents.

No contact order

After sending the second letter, Cindy was asked by Catholic Charities whether her letter could be used as a teaching tool for other birth parents. Catholic Charities staff appreciated how Cindy reconnected without being pushy, and how she shared important family health history. Cindy reminded them that the letter was actually her daughter’s, and the choice was hers.

They also gave Cindy some disheartening news. She was told not to try to contact her daughter again.

Cindy honored what she thought was the request of her daughter’s parents, and she stepped back, now fearing more than ever that the girl she gave birth to would never come searching for her. (Katie’s mother and father have since said they never gave the adoption agency that message for Cindy.) She figured the silence meant one of three things: the girl was so angry that her mother had given her up she never wanted to talk to her; her parents were having a difficult time with the teenager and thought it best if another parent figure stayed away; or, she was dead.

Although Kim would never talk about their firstborn with her, Cindy’s friend since elementary school, Serena Allred, would speculate with her about the person Anne Marie could have grown up as. Cindy joked, “Who knows? Maybe she’s Miss Wisconsin.”

A daughter’s search begins

One year before the records were opened, Katie attempted to find her birth mother without them. She knew her birth mother had graduated from the University of Wisconsin - Eau Claire. She knew her major was art design. Maybe, just maybe, by paging through the yearbooks she could find a face that looked like hers. One teacher pointed out a face, but Katie shrugged off the idea because the woman’s hair was wavy. If she’d looked closer she might have seen familiar freckles and the same round cheeks, and considered the wave was caused by a perm.

Instead she called a couple of people who had graduated around the time her birth mother did, but no one recalled a classmate being pregnant.

When her 21st birthday rolled around, Katie had her paperwork ready and mailed it in to Catholic Charities in Madison, Wis. The woman who usually handled things was out on vacation, so Katie waited.

She received her health information, and found a name the adoption agency had neglected to white out: Cindy.

After 21 years, Katie didn’t want to wait any longer. “Catholic Charities was taking too long, and I was becoming impatient,” she said.

Now armed with the first name, Katie returned to Eau Claire to search the yearbooks once more. She found two Cindys in the art program that year. Hand shaking, she called the first one. The woman didn’t know what she was talking about, but wished her well.

That left Cindy Barton. An Internet search of the name came up empty. But there were 350 pages of Bartons just in Wisconsin. It was overwhelming, but Katie wasn’t ready to quit. She randomly called one of the first Bartons listed. “Do you know a Cindy Barton?” Katie asked.

“Yeah,” replied the man who answered the phone. “She’s my niece.”

He explained that while he didn’t have Cindy’s phone number because she’d recently moved, he did have the number of her mother, Evelyn.

Katie told herself not to get too excited as she dialed Evelyn’s number.

Wisely recognizing that not everyone in the family might have known Cindy had a baby and gave her up for adoption, Katie sidestepped the issue. “Hello, I’m looking for my birth mother and I think your daughter Cindy might have known her in college,” Katie said.

The gasp that greeted her inquiry gave it away.

But before giving out Cindy’s telephone number, Evelyn had a few more questions. “My name was Anne Marie at birth, and I was born St. Patrick’s Day, March 17, 1984,” Katie responded.

The only indication Katie got that she was on the right track was the telephone number for Cindy Reisen.

Her hands were still shaking as she dialed the number.

A regular day

Cindy was bustling around her home that Sunday night at around 8 p.m., cleaning in anticipation of her own mother’s visit the next week on Mother’s Day. She answered the phone in mid-task.

“Oh my gosh!”

A cheery voice greeted Katie when the phone rang. Katie asked for Cindy, and after being assured she’d reached the right person, she launched into her script.

“This may sound odd, but I’m looking for my birth mother,” she said.

“Oh, my God,” was the response.

“She sounded like all the air had been knocked out of her,” Katie recalled.

As she struggled for composure, Cindy thought fast. She needed to make sure this wasn’t someone playing a trick on her.

“When? Where?” she questioned.

“St. Patrick’s Day, 1984 in Eau Claire, Wis. You named me Anne Marie,” Katie answered.

Both began screaming and laughing as they realized the years of wondering were over and they’d found one another. Katie danced around her friend’s house, briefly handing the phone to him before she settled down. Cindy called for Cody. “Your sister’s on the phone,” she yelled. He, too, was amazed and delighted. Brimming with the good news, Katie hung up long enough to call her mother, father and sister to share the news with them. Cindy told her fiance, Ed, “My daughter called me!” Her elated mother called to find out about her first grandchild.

Then Katie called Cindy back. Questions bottled up for 21 years burst forth. What do you look like? Where do you live? What do you do? What do you enjoy?

They discovered they’ve both got the “gift of gab,” as Katie’s father calls it. They both performed in show choirs in high school; in fact, Katie performed in Altoona, Wis. the town Cindy grew up in. And when she won the Miss LaCrosse title in 2004, it was her voice that earned top marks in the competition. Katie grew up in LaCrosse, and as a baby her father worked in a building across the street from one Cindy was in frequently. She likely observed Katie’s mother pushing Katie in a stroller as she walked down the street. After finding her own birth mother and half-siblings, Cindy discovered several of her relatives also live in LaCrosse. Coincidences like that are many when they compare the places they’ve been and the things they’ve done. They came within a step or two of each other so many times.

That first conversation was “totally surreal,” described Katie.

Holding her daugher for the first time

After chatting for “forever”, the two agreed to meet the next weekend. Cindy stressed that Sunday wouldn’t work because she wanted Katie to spend Mother’s Day with her mother. Katie felt the same desire, so they arranged to meet Saturday.

As she neared the Highway 95 exit in North Branch all Katie could say was “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.”

“I was just freaking out,” she recalled. She’d chosen to make the trip up from LaCrosse herself, even though others had offered to accompany her. “I wanted to have my moment with Cindy before I let other people into it,” Katie explained.

She was so excited, but so nervous at the same time.

She got to the house early, and Cody – her full-blooded little brother – knocked on the door. “We stood there,” Katie recalled. She was surprised by how tall he is, 5’ 10”, when she’s so much shorter at 5’ 4”.

Then Cindy was there, and she grabbed the face of her firstborn and just held her for the first time.

They spent the afternoon looking through pictures. It didn’t take long to discover the family resemblance. Comparing pictures of a young Cindy to childhood photos of Katie and current shots was almost eery because they look identical. They’ve both got the same freckles bridging their noses. They’ve both got the same rosy cheeks and straight hair.

“I was just blown away,” said Katie.

For both women, this was the first time either had ever found someone who looked so like them. While Cindy discovered eight half-siblings later in life, none resemble her so entirely, although there are similarities both in look and action. “All my life, I’ve never seen someone who looks so much like me,” said Cindy. From Katie’s viewpoint, while people often told her she resembled her parents or sister, she never saw it in her looks. But the question she’d been asked since grade school of whether she looked like her mother or her father was answered when she met Cindy.

And for the first time in her life, she was suddenly older than a sibling. “It was a really weird feeling,” Katie said. But as soon as she saw Cody she felt protective of him. “You mess with Cody, you mess with me,” Katie said.

At the end of the day, Katie drove back home, and she spent Mother’s Day with her mother. The day with Cindy had answered at least one important question. She’d always worried that when she found her birth mother she’d suddenly feel more connected to her than the family she grew up with – that she’d feel more complete. She was afraid of that feeling and the guilt she’d then be engulfed by. But after meeting Cindy, Katie realized, “Your parents are definitely who raised you.”

Cindy also knows that to be true, and she’s not looking to replace Katie’s adoptive mother. She’s just glad to be part of her life.

“When you say ‘goodbye’ it’s supposed to be forever,” noted Cindy. “I have no legal claim to her.”

But finding her Anne Marie, her Katie, has “brought a whole new spark into life.”

Reflecting on the busy year since finding her birth mother, Katie said she still doesn’t quite believe it. “I was always preparing myself to be turned away. No matter how excited I got because of Cindy’s letters. … people said, ‘Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Katie is still trying to figure out the future and how Cindy and Cody – and even Kim, who she met shortly after meeting Cindy – fit into her life. Cindy and Katie talk about once a week, and have visited back and forth. “I feel like Cindy is a good friend,” she remarked. Yet there’s also more.

Katie feels like she’s known Cindy and Cody forever. “There is this connection that is there,” she observed. She looks forward to “crazy holidays and big weddings.”

“It’s been a wild ride,” remarked Cindy. “But it’s been fun.”

The puzzle pieces have come together for both woman.

Miracles happen

This St. Patrick’s Day, Cindy recalls the bit of Irish luck she got last year from singer Katie McMahon, whom she talked to after the show in Cambridge. She thanked McMahon by email shortly after hearing from her daughter. “I just wanted to thank you for wishing us all the good Irish luck – it really works! She’s coming up Saturday to visit us – after 21 years I will finally be able to hold my daughter in my arms. They kept her middle name as Marie, but you know what they changed her first name to? KATIE! Thanks again.

“Miracles happen when God connects the dots.”