He Says She Says - Judge Doyle-v-Sheila Fuith

It's been quite some time since I posted anything and a few people have been asking if things are ok so I thought I'd better put a few minds at rest.

Yesterday I paid a visit to the US Embassy in London and was interviewed for a visa to go back to Florida and Washington DC so I could see Emily and continue with the legal process in America.

I had to get a police report from the British police documenting that I have no criminal or arrest record here in the UK which I did and along with my tenancy agreement for my home and all the other paraphanalia to demonstrate I have a right to see Emily, court orders and such.

I was interviewed by a young lady who rejected my visa request. I asked why, and she advised me while tapping away at her keyboard with wonderfully manicured nails that:

"It's very honorable that you want to see your daughter but you are permanently ineligible for a visa for access because you've harassed the mother."

I gave her my court orders from Judge Doyle that rejected the mothers request for a domestic violence injunction along with my court order for access and all I got was:

"We've overridden them, you are permanently ineligible for a visa and that is that."

More furious tapping at the keyboard ensued with those lovely nails rattling away - I thought she's going to break them !

I asked why I couldn't have a visa for going to court and what I got was:

"You have an attorney you don't need to go to court."

Extra furious tapping from the keyboard, sounding like heavy rain on a tin roof.

"But I'm filing in federal court and representing myself, I need to be there."

The tattoo of keystrokes didn't miss a beat and without looking up she told me:

"Get an attorney to do that for you. You cannot demonstrate sufficient connection to the UK Mr Hindle so I have to presume you are an immigrant so I'm not allowing a visa for that."

I countered, transfixed by the dexterity of the finger manipulations wondering if she actually was typing anything or just using the activity to avoid looking me in the eye:

"How can you say I don't have sufficient connections to the UK, I'm British, I'm a veteran, I have a house here, I look after my eldest child, I'm studying here what more can anyone do to show they are connected to the UK?"

The rat-a-tat-tat stopped and looking me in the eye for the first time she says:

"I'm not giving you a visa."

I said it was just shameful how the State Department was behaving, but nothing was said as those beautiful fingers picked up the paperwork and put them in the out tray and pushed a rejection notice under the glass window that separated us.

"Have nice day!" followed me as I left the cubicle.

I left for home and sobbed in the toilet compartment of the train home. I'll never see Emily again and Judge Doyle's Florida court orders are worth nothing while I cannot even go to court in the US - the used toilet paper I found left in the bowl of the toilet on the train home has more value than all of the court orders from the British Supreme Court, the Hague Convention and the court room of His Honor Judge John V Doyle in Florida. I flushed that excrement ridden piece of paper down the toilet as effectively as Ms Manicured Fingernails flushed Judge Doyle's court orders and our rights earlier that day at the US Embassy - at least it is now fertilizing the weeds that grow on the train track somewhere between London Liverpool Street and the train station at Hatfield Peverel.

These custody cases are often "He said, She said" driven but it's a new twist when "The Judge says and She says" but the State Department sides with mom and not the American judge.