Jody looked at the shards of glass embedded in the back seat of the bullet-riddled Subaru and shuddered.
It was where her grandson Tommy had always slept when his parents were on a drug binge: It was where he used to lie surrounded by a cocoon of toys, discarded candy wrappers and empty fast-food containers.
Tommy would have been there the night before, when drug dealers blew away the back of the car because its owners — Tommy’s parents — didn’t pay their debts. But Jody had refused to let her son take Tommy in the car with him.
That night the car was parked behind the Culver City Courthouse, where Jody’s son was scheduled to appear at a hearing for a previous drug bust.
She spotted him standing on the sidewalk and pulled up beside him.
“You’re not taking Tommy anymore,” she said flatly.
On her way home, Jody picked up the car phone and called the Department of Children’s Services.
She told them her grandson was in jeopardy, and that if he stayed with his parents they were going to get him killed. Within 48 hours, Jody had temporary custody.
For a while she felt guilty about her stubbornness.
Not anymore.
Jody is one of an increasing number of grandparents who are putting their own lives on hold — postponing second careers, abandoning travel plans and chewing up retirement savings — in order to raise their children’s children.
It’s a phenomenon one social worker says is reaching epidemic proportions, fueled by drug and alcohol abuse, teenage pregnancy, AIDS, spousal homicide and dysfunctional adults who just can’t handle parenthood.
The 1990 census showed that 3.2 million American children were living with their grandparents, a 40 percent increase over statistics collected a decade before.
It’s a continuing trend that crosses all ethnic, economic and geographical boundaries, and it’s having a profound impact on the seniors and grandkids whose lives are being reshuffled.
“I had my life all planned out,” says Jody, a 54-year-old Redondo Beach freelance writer.
“I was going to have three or four writing projects going, including the novel I had always wanted to write. I was going to travel, meet people and go sailing in my boat whenever I felt like it. It hasn’t turned out that way.”
For Sandra, a 54-year-old businesswoman who fought for custody of her 2-1/2-year-old and 15-month-old grandsons, the cost has been considerably higher; it ruptured her 33-year marriage.
“My husband chose to side with our son [over who should have custody]. I chose to side with our grandchildren,” she says. “I’m not saying [the marriage] is over. We’ve had too many years.” But Sandra’s husband “feels that everybody’s given up on our son and he’s his only friend.”
Despite all her efforts to gain custody, Sandra, who cared for her grandsons during each of their father’s welfare check-induced drug binges, ended up with them on a fluke.
Police department officers going door-to-door to find out how many animals were living in homes of a particular section of town found Steven, then 6 months old, dirty and unkempt, lying on a cement floor.
There was no milk in the refrigerator and dirty baby bottles filled the sink. The officers hauled the parents into jail and called Sandra to pick up the baby.
It’s a common enough story in a social justice system that regards children as the property of their parents.
“The law always favors keeping children with their parents,” says Helen Santillan, a licensed clinical social worker and co-leader of the support group Mothers Again.
“They take [children] away temporarily, but the whole thrust is to get them back into the family setting as soon as possible,” she says. “There are a lot of grandparents who don’t believe that’s right.”
Jody is one of them.
“The parent can be hooked on drugs, living in a car and have no job, but if they’re going to Narcotics Anonymous, they can come into court like Mary Poppins and the court will say, `Here’s your child,'” she says.
Reuniting families — even in the face of chronic abuse and neglect — has been the unquestioned mandate for the past 30 years, despite clear evidence that the number of parents who are ever rehabilitated is very small, according to Sylvie de Toledo, a licensed clinical social worker and founder of the support group Grandparents as Parents.
For those grandparents who gain custody, the impact is felt.
“My whole lifestyle has changed,” says Sandra. “Now when I think about retirement, I focus on places where I’d like to raise children, where the schools are good and the neighborhoods quiet. It’s obvious I won’t be looking at over-55 complexes. They don’t have Little League at Leisure World.”
But reprising parenthood for Jody has also meant seeing the world through the eyes of a 4-year-old.
“I love stopping to examine ladybugs, looking at shells we find on the beach…”I feel like a very rich lady.”