by Tom Fowler

Created on: July 30, 2008

The Better Way

A father's gentle handling of a troubled daughter.

1.

It is amazing sometimes how things work in this unpredictable world in which we live. Events, good or bad, can happen on the spur of the moment when you least expect them and can often change not only the direction of your life, but the lives of those around you. These thoughts were the farthest thing from my mind early one morning several years ago when the telephone rang and woke me from a deep sleep.

"Mr. Newton?"

"Yes?"

"This is Sgt. Blackwell at the Longview Police Station. We have your daughter in custody. Would you come down and see me, please?" This was more of an order than a question. I know, because I knew Sgt. Blackwell and the other officers on the small Longview PD quite well. Meredith was no stranger to trouble and the local cops.

Meredith, fifteen years old then, was a pretty girl, big but not fat. Somewhat overly developed for her age, she could easily pass for twenty and often did. Blonde and blue-eyed with a lovely complexion, she had begun to model part-time that summer. She also hung around with twenty-one to twenty-two year old men. I worried quite a bit but didn't know what to do about it. I couldn't control her.

Sighing, I answered, "Be there shortly."

After hastily dressing and making the short journey, I entered the small police station, located only a few blocks from our home. It was less than one year old and still looked and smelled new. Sgt. Blackwell sat at the duty desk and greeted me when he saw me. "Hello, Mr. Newton." He did not smile, but neither did he appear to be angry.

"Hello, Charlie," I replied, as we shook hands. "What's up?"

"We have Meredith and Tiffany Smith here for shoplifting. They got caught by security at Wal-Mart about an hour ago." The Longview Wal-Mart stayed open twenty-four hours a day.

Meredith had shoplifting and curfew violation charges against her in Valley View Juvenile Court. Thank God for small favors; at least that was another county and jurisdiction. I knew what Charlie would say next, but I asked anyway, "OK. Now what?"

"You take her home and appear with her in county juvenile court on the day this ticket says to appear." That day would be approximately three weeks away. Longview sat in a semi-rural county, but still the juvenile courts ran behind. A sad sign of our times, I thought, as Charlie handed me the ticket and went to get Meredith.

We said our awkward goodbyes to Charlie Blackwell and headed out the door. Meredith had been nervous

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