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05-21-2004, 05:35 AM
http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/nationworld/chi-0405210351may21,1,27731
53.story?coll=chi-newsnationworld-hed
Rescue of boy ends in tragedy
By Russell Working and Alex Rodriguez. Tribune staff reporter Russell Working
reported from Chicago; Tribune foreign correspondent Alex Rodriguez reported
from Yeysk, Russia
Tribune staff reporters
Published May 21, 2004
Alexei Geiko needed rescuing. At 20 months, he had been removed from alcoholic
parents in Russia who underfed him and made him sleep on the floor of their
roach-infested apartment. He then spent nearly five years in an orphanage.
Dino and Irma Pavlis offered themselves as his rescuers. The Schaumburg couple
hoped to start a family last fall by adopting two needy children: Alexei, 6,
and his sister, 5.
To the judges who approved the adoption in the southern Russian port city of
Yeysk, the match looked ideal. "The applicants are kind and good spouses," they
wrote, "and the marriage is stable. . . . The adoption agency will control the
children's future life."
But six weeks after the family arrived in the United States in November, Alex
Pavlis--as he became known--was dead and his new mother jailed on charges of
murdering him.
Police say Irma Pavlis, 32, admitted to striking the child and slamming him
into a closet when he threw a tantrum Dec. 18. He died in a hospital the next
day. Her attorneys dispute the statement, maintaining that she is innocent and
the child suffered from prior and self-inflicted injuries. A trial date has yet
to be set.
Most foreign adoptions conclude happily, and Alex's death is a rarity amid the
more than 20,000 foreign children--nearly a quarter of them from Russia--who
find homes in the U.S. every year. Yet it sheds light on hundreds of cases in
which parents have taken in children only to find themselves overwhelmed by
medical and behavioral problems that often are poorly documented in Russian
medical records.
Since 1996, adoptive parents have been accused of killing at least 12 Russian
children. Experts know of no other country from which so many children have
died.
Follow-up in international adoptions can be minimal. When a couple adopts
through a foreign facilitator, as the Pavlises did, there are few advance
educational requirements and little supervision after the children arrive.
"The system failed the [Pavlis] child, the mother and everybody it could," said
Dr. Todd Ochs, a Chicago-area pediatrician who specializes in internationally
adopted children but is not involved in the case. "The safeguards that we
thought we had in place weren't there."
The story of how Alex's short life intersected with those of the Pavlises has
been gleaned from police reports, court documents in Russia and the United
States, adoption and medical records, and interviews in Chicago, Moscow and
Yeysk. Dino Pavlis agreed to be interviewed in the presence of the couple's
lawyer and later by e-mail.
Irma Pavlis is a former Mexican journalist who met Dino Pavlis--then manager of
an avant-garde jazz theater called the Bop Shop--while she was in Chicago on
vacation in 1992.
After exchanging letters, he visited her in Mexico City twice. She finally came
to Chicago in November 1994, and they married the following year.
The couple had long hoped to create a combined family of adopted and biological
children. Irma Pavlis is a devout Roman Catholic with a strong social
conscience, her husband said. Adoption, she thought, was a way of helping needy
orphans.
"When you work all day and you're worried about regular life, it's very hard to
do anything for God," said Dino Pavlis, 40, now a sales manager at a local
company. "But by adoption, you obligate yourself that every day you do
something that's selfless."
The immediate spark for adopting was a miscarriage Irma Pavlis had suffered.
She is still able to have children, her husband said, but as she sought to deal
with the loss she began searching the Internet for adoptions. She found the
children's pictures on the Web site of an agency called Dove Adoptions, in
Portland, Ore. The photos were linked: When she clicked on Alexei's face, his
sister's picture popped up.
Once she saw their faces, she began worrying about their welfare. Every day she
would say, "Oh, they're never going to have parents."
Vasily and Svetlana Geiko, the parents of Alexei and his younger sister, lived
in Yeysk, an industrial city of 94,500 along the Sea of Azov. Vasily, 35,
worked on the assembly line at a can manufacturing plant; Svetlana, 37, stayed
home with Alexei, the girl whom the Pavlises would also adopt, and their older
sister, Natalya, now 11. (The Tribune is not naming the youngest girl in order
to protect her privacy.)
Begging for food
The family's flat on the second floor of a dilapidated, Soviet-era apartment
building was often filled with piles of dirty laundry and infested with
cockroaches and mice, neighbors said. Natalya was often seen in her apartment
window, begging neighbors for food. At times, she slipped out unnoticed by her
parents so she could get food from neighbors.
The couple apparently tried to avoid any contact with neighbors, even going so
far as to dry their laundry on clotheslines inside their apartment instead of
outdoors. The flat was humid during the summer, and mold covered the wallpaper,
neighbors said.
A neighbor, Nina Zyuganova, said women in the building urged Alexei's mother to
take the children for walks. "She answered, `I don't care; they don't need
it,'" Zyuganova recalled. The boy appeared listless and detached, neighbors
said.
Because of the conditions in the household, authorities supplied the Geikos
with a liter of milk a day when the younger sister was born, to supplement her
diet. Svetlana divided the milk among the children. Zyuganova once asked if
that was enough milk for three children.
"It's enough," Svetlana replied, "and I even give a cup to Vasily."
In Russia a doctor or nurse is usually assigned to check weekly on newborns for
the first few months of the child's life. The nurse assigned to the Geiko
family, Yelena Ilyashenko, said Alexei suffered from a central nervous system
disability that severely handicapped his motor functions. He also was badly
malnourished and suffered from anemia and rickets. Physicians who reviewed
photographs at the request of the Tribune say Alexei's facial features indicate
his mother drank while he was in the womb.
Ilyashenko's hospital reported the conditions at the Geiko household to local
authorities, who took custody of Alexei and his younger sister in December 1998
and placed them in an orphanage in Yeysk. Natalya was placed in a local
orphanage in May 1999.
Svetlana was severely depressed when the children were taken away, crying for
hours without saying a word, neighbors said. However, the Yeysk municipal court
judge assigned to the Geikos' neglect case, Mikhail Okhrimenko, said neither
parent visited the two children at the orphanage.
"The biological parents practically repudiated their children," Okhrimenko
said.
The Geikos have since divorced, and the Tribune could not locate them.
A photo from the orphanage provided by the Pavlis' lawyers depicts a carpeted
classroom where Alex sits with 11 other children. The shelves are furnished
with Soviet-style toys: a plastic phone, a picture game called Lotto, an
alphabet puzzle, some dolls. The children are dressed in slippers, shorts and
the woolen tights commonly worn by preschoolers in Russia. The children have
been treated to ice cream cones.
Amid the young faces, Alex stands out. His head is bandaged, and it lolls to
his left. Stuart Goldberg, one of Irma Pavlis' two attorneys, says this proves
the boy suffered head injuries dating back to Russia.
In Schaumburg, the Pavlises obtained a home study--required for international
adoptions--through the Mt. Vernon-based Baptist Children's Home & Family
Services in May 2003. The agency would not handle the actual adoption, but it
saw nothing to worry about and recommended the couple be allowed to adopt up to
three children "as soon as possible."
"Their approach to discipline would include taking away privileges, time out
and an explanation of discipline to the child," according to a copy of the home
study supplied by Dino Pavlis. "They do not believe in verbal abuse or . . .
corporal punishment."
The report said the Pavlises had "completed the required pre-adoption
training." But this training consisted of reading two books and writing essays
about them, Dino Pavlis said.
The Baptist Children's Home & Family Services has repeatedly declined to
comment on the case, referring calls to the Illinois Department of Children and
Family Services.
The agency's study went to the DCFS in Springfield, where officials certified
that the Pavlises' home conformed to standards such as whether there is enough
room, said spokeswoman Jill Manuel. They also checked to make sure the couple
didn't have criminal records.
Total cost: $11,000
The couple contacted Dove Adoptions, where they found the photographs, but the
agency's rates were beyond the couple's means. They searched adoption
discussion groups and found an independent adoption facilitator in Krasnodar
named Vladimir Zherdev. The total cost would be $11,000.
"When you don't have an agency, it's less expensive," Dino Pavlis said, "but
you've got to find out things by yourself."
During the process, the Pavlises visited Russia twice, as the country mandates
in foreign adoptions. They met with the kids in Yeysk in July, then again when
they returned in October to take them in. When the couple flew to Moscow, each
of them carried $5,500 in cash.
But working with a local facilitator gave the couple less protection in an
unfamiliar country where they didn't know the bureaucracy and spoke no Russian
other than phrases Irma Pavlis had begun memorizing.
An American agency is no guarantee that parents will come away satisfied. Many
parents who have been accused of killing their children found them through
agencies. Still, a good agency will provide advance education on potential
health problems, such as fetal alcohol syndrome, and it will walk parents
through the process and make sure they get the children's medical records.
According to Dino Pavlis, the couple didn't receive full medical records from
the facilitator they worked with. He translated very little, and an orphanage
director mentioned only the girl's colds, he said.
"It's such a rush," he said. "You have such a small amount of time. We found
out when we got to Moscow we did not have the medical records translated, or
any viable medical records. . . . We didn't want to press too much because we
wanted to take these children to help them. We didn't want to be, `Oh, I want a
perfect child, and I won't take them if there's one thing wrong with them.'"
Unbeknownst to the couple, they were dealing with an orphanage for
special-needs children, Dino Pavlis said. The day they took the children back
to their hotel in Yeysk, they undressed the youngsters for a shower and
discovered that Alex's toes were connected. He also had a deformed penis and
little finger, according to a hospital report.
Russian officials give a different account. The couple visited the orphanage,
saw Alexei and his sister, and then during a court hearing were given extensive
information about Alexei's condition, said Dina Semeshina, the judge in
Krasnodar who handled the Geiko adoption. And during the court hearing, the
Pavlises confirmed they were aware of Alexei's medical troubles.
Russian officials refused to specify what the Pavlises had been told during the
hearing about the boy's medical condition. They would only say that the couple
had been informed of his condition.
It is not uncommon for adoptive parents to be confused about the medical
condition of children, say pediatricians who specialize in care for
international adoptees. Russian orphanages almost always provide medical
records of one sort or another, several doctors said. But records often list
only a diagnosis, rather than detailed notes on each doctor visit. And
terminology is often so different that doctors here have trouble making sense
of it.
Hidden problems
"When somebody says we didn't receive all the information, usually it's not
because the information's being hidden," said Ira J. Chasnoff, a Chicago doctor
specializing in adoptive pediatrics. "It's because it didn't exist. If they're
talking about mental health problems or fetal alcohol syndrome or rickets or
any of those kinds of things, those kinds of things are never diagnosed over
there."
One way to avoid such problems is to consult a specialist in America, who can
view video images that prospective parents e-mail from Russia and look for
neurological and other health problems. But like many adoptive parents, the
Pavlises didn't consult a physician here.
Artur Lukyanov, a driver the Pavlises hired in Moscow, noticed problems with
the children. Reached by phone in Moscow, Lukyanov said the children seemed to
misbehave deliberately to upset their new parents. At a Moscow McDonald's, the
girl crumbled her Big Mac into bits and threw it on the table, even though she
was hungry. More troubling, their Russian made little sense.
"Irma Pavlis and Dino Pavlis asked me, `Can you tell me what they're talking
about?' But for me, it was very hard to understand what they were saying," he
said. "By 5 or 6 years old, children should express themselves in more
articulate phrases. . . . Even the pronunciation was incomprehensible."
Most worrisome of all was that Alex began acting out physically. In the
restroom of the Moscow Circus, which was visiting southern Russia, he flung
himself headlong at the floor, Dino Pavlis stated in an e-mail.
Such behavior continued when the Pavlises returned to Chicago, Dino Pavlis
said. They flew on a plane with many other parents adopting Russian orphans,
but nearly all were babies. (Experts say that the longer a child is raised in
an orphanage, the more severe the behavior problems often are.) Arriving late
at night, the Pavlises caught a taxi to Schaumburg. Alex was brooding in the
cab and fidgeting with a knob on the door. He was upset. His new parents didn't
know why and couldn't ask.
In front of their apartment, Dino Pavlis got out, took his son's hand, and
said, "Come on, let's go. Let's go to the house."
Alex threw himself headfirst onto the ground.
"He just collapsed," Dino Pavlis recalled. "I mean, he wasn't just falling. He
threw himself down. And then just started screaming bloody murder. It was late.
Oh, God, it was horrible. And he wouldn't stop. I had to carry him in."
This was the beginning of a string of stressful incidents at the home, he said.
In an e-mail, Dino recounted the joy as well as the pain of adopting. Alex
liked to push the cart in the grocery store and dance to music. He had the face
of an angel. Shortly after they returned from Russia, Dino Pavlis was boasting
about his new family on Lukyanov's Web site: "We just adopted two beautiful
Russian children in November of 2003."
Still, Alex's tantrums continued. Irma Pavlis was home-schooling the children
while they considered their options--possibly a Catholic school.
Both children showed troubling behavior: When the girl was told to stand in her
room, she clawed at her face and drew blood, Dino Pavlis said. Alex began
copying her.
But the girl was doing well in her home schooling, learning the alphabet and
repeating English words. Alex, who was unable to learn to read, was jealous. He
would react if his parents told him to stand still for some quiet time, Dino
Pavlis said. Sometimes he would throw himself on the floor.
"He began to urinate and defecate on himself as an act of defiance," Dino
Pavlis said. "He urinated on himself once after we complimented his sister on
reciting the ABC's.
The home-study agency was expected to follow up, but not until after Christmas.
The couple thought they could resolve the problems by then, Dino Pavlis stated.
In December, the Pavlises were preparing to go to Mexico for Christmas, said
Irma Pavlis' sister, Maria Eugenia Ramirez, who was in Chicago recently to
visit her sister in jail.
It would be the relatives' first chance to meet the children. The Pavlises were
planning to baptize the children during the season of posada festivities
reenacting Mary and Joseph's search for lodging in Bethlehem. Irma Pavlis'
nephew, who is 6, was excited about meeting his cousins. He was planning to
show Alex how to whack a pinata and send candies flying.
Dec. 18--the day Alex was hospitalized--came just six weeks after the children
arrived in America. According to accounts Irma Pavlis gave to Schaumburg police
and to doctors at the Alexian Brothers Medical Center, where he was treated,
she told Alex to do his ABC's in his bedroom around 11 or 11:30 a.m. She was
ironing clothes while her daughter sat in the kitchen, writing letters on a
piece of paper.
For the past two days, the boy had been occasionally blanking out and staring
into space, his head lolling, she would tell physicians. This morning, he
suddenly began rolling his eyes and gasping for air, she said.
The boy had been having episodes in which he faked unconsciousness, said
co-defense attorney Donna Rotunno. When Irma Pavlis saw it was serious, she
attempted CPR. She then called her husband, who told her to dial 911.
Tom Stanton, spokesman for the state's attorney's office, said Irma Pavlis
waited 30 to 45 minutes before calling her husband. The defense disputes that,
saying she called as soon as she recognized the danger.
The Schaumburg Fire Department transported Alex to Alexian Brothers Medical
Center, and he was later airlifted to Loyola University Medical Center in
Maywood. He died Friday of blunt trauma to the head, the Cook County medical
examiner's office stated.
Irma Pavlis called her family in Mexico to cancel the visit, telling them Alex
had fallen down, Ramirez said.
But to police officers who arrived, this story did not add up. A lieutenant
pulled a colleague aside and said he had noticed bruises on Alex's head and
face. Medical examinations determined that most of the bruises occurred that
day, police said.
(Defense attorneys insist that the bruising happened earlier and in places that
indicate the boy's falling and head-banging was the cause.)
Home called a crime scene
Police took Irma Pavlis in for questioning, and the apartment was classified as
a crime scene. The girl was removed from the house.
In an interrogation, Irma Pavlis stated that her son had been wetting his bed,
running into walls and playing aggressively, thus bruising himself. But on Dec.
20, Irma Pavlis allegedly admitted her involvement in the death, a police
report states.
She said Alex had been urinating and defecating in bed and elsewhere, causing
her to become frustrated, Stanton said. "The defendant began to shake him and
slap him, and twisted his neck and shoved him against the closet door," he
said.
Goldberg, one of the defense lawyers, argues that the police misconstrued the
words of a distraught mother and that the statement was inadmissible because
she was not provided with a lawyer after Dino Pavlis repeatedly requested one
in his wife's presence.
The Pavlis family has been shattered. Irma Pavlis is in jail, awaiting trial.
Dino Pavlis remains at their home. The Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of
Chicago placed Alex's sister in a foster home with a Russian-speaking parent.
She is in school and receiving counseling to help her deal with the loss of her
brother.
-------------------------
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail . . . but, a true friend will
be sitting next to you saying, "Damn . . . that was fun!"
-----Unknown
53.story?coll=chi-newsnationworld-hed
Rescue of boy ends in tragedy
By Russell Working and Alex Rodriguez. Tribune staff reporter Russell Working
reported from Chicago; Tribune foreign correspondent Alex Rodriguez reported
from Yeysk, Russia
Tribune staff reporters
Published May 21, 2004
Alexei Geiko needed rescuing. At 20 months, he had been removed from alcoholic
parents in Russia who underfed him and made him sleep on the floor of their
roach-infested apartment. He then spent nearly five years in an orphanage.
Dino and Irma Pavlis offered themselves as his rescuers. The Schaumburg couple
hoped to start a family last fall by adopting two needy children: Alexei, 6,
and his sister, 5.
To the judges who approved the adoption in the southern Russian port city of
Yeysk, the match looked ideal. "The applicants are kind and good spouses," they
wrote, "and the marriage is stable. . . . The adoption agency will control the
children's future life."
But six weeks after the family arrived in the United States in November, Alex
Pavlis--as he became known--was dead and his new mother jailed on charges of
murdering him.
Police say Irma Pavlis, 32, admitted to striking the child and slamming him
into a closet when he threw a tantrum Dec. 18. He died in a hospital the next
day. Her attorneys dispute the statement, maintaining that she is innocent and
the child suffered from prior and self-inflicted injuries. A trial date has yet
to be set.
Most foreign adoptions conclude happily, and Alex's death is a rarity amid the
more than 20,000 foreign children--nearly a quarter of them from Russia--who
find homes in the U.S. every year. Yet it sheds light on hundreds of cases in
which parents have taken in children only to find themselves overwhelmed by
medical and behavioral problems that often are poorly documented in Russian
medical records.
Since 1996, adoptive parents have been accused of killing at least 12 Russian
children. Experts know of no other country from which so many children have
died.
Follow-up in international adoptions can be minimal. When a couple adopts
through a foreign facilitator, as the Pavlises did, there are few advance
educational requirements and little supervision after the children arrive.
"The system failed the [Pavlis] child, the mother and everybody it could," said
Dr. Todd Ochs, a Chicago-area pediatrician who specializes in internationally
adopted children but is not involved in the case. "The safeguards that we
thought we had in place weren't there."
The story of how Alex's short life intersected with those of the Pavlises has
been gleaned from police reports, court documents in Russia and the United
States, adoption and medical records, and interviews in Chicago, Moscow and
Yeysk. Dino Pavlis agreed to be interviewed in the presence of the couple's
lawyer and later by e-mail.
Irma Pavlis is a former Mexican journalist who met Dino Pavlis--then manager of
an avant-garde jazz theater called the Bop Shop--while she was in Chicago on
vacation in 1992.
After exchanging letters, he visited her in Mexico City twice. She finally came
to Chicago in November 1994, and they married the following year.
The couple had long hoped to create a combined family of adopted and biological
children. Irma Pavlis is a devout Roman Catholic with a strong social
conscience, her husband said. Adoption, she thought, was a way of helping needy
orphans.
"When you work all day and you're worried about regular life, it's very hard to
do anything for God," said Dino Pavlis, 40, now a sales manager at a local
company. "But by adoption, you obligate yourself that every day you do
something that's selfless."
The immediate spark for adopting was a miscarriage Irma Pavlis had suffered.
She is still able to have children, her husband said, but as she sought to deal
with the loss she began searching the Internet for adoptions. She found the
children's pictures on the Web site of an agency called Dove Adoptions, in
Portland, Ore. The photos were linked: When she clicked on Alexei's face, his
sister's picture popped up.
Once she saw their faces, she began worrying about their welfare. Every day she
would say, "Oh, they're never going to have parents."
Vasily and Svetlana Geiko, the parents of Alexei and his younger sister, lived
in Yeysk, an industrial city of 94,500 along the Sea of Azov. Vasily, 35,
worked on the assembly line at a can manufacturing plant; Svetlana, 37, stayed
home with Alexei, the girl whom the Pavlises would also adopt, and their older
sister, Natalya, now 11. (The Tribune is not naming the youngest girl in order
to protect her privacy.)
Begging for food
The family's flat on the second floor of a dilapidated, Soviet-era apartment
building was often filled with piles of dirty laundry and infested with
cockroaches and mice, neighbors said. Natalya was often seen in her apartment
window, begging neighbors for food. At times, she slipped out unnoticed by her
parents so she could get food from neighbors.
The couple apparently tried to avoid any contact with neighbors, even going so
far as to dry their laundry on clotheslines inside their apartment instead of
outdoors. The flat was humid during the summer, and mold covered the wallpaper,
neighbors said.
A neighbor, Nina Zyuganova, said women in the building urged Alexei's mother to
take the children for walks. "She answered, `I don't care; they don't need
it,'" Zyuganova recalled. The boy appeared listless and detached, neighbors
said.
Because of the conditions in the household, authorities supplied the Geikos
with a liter of milk a day when the younger sister was born, to supplement her
diet. Svetlana divided the milk among the children. Zyuganova once asked if
that was enough milk for three children.
"It's enough," Svetlana replied, "and I even give a cup to Vasily."
In Russia a doctor or nurse is usually assigned to check weekly on newborns for
the first few months of the child's life. The nurse assigned to the Geiko
family, Yelena Ilyashenko, said Alexei suffered from a central nervous system
disability that severely handicapped his motor functions. He also was badly
malnourished and suffered from anemia and rickets. Physicians who reviewed
photographs at the request of the Tribune say Alexei's facial features indicate
his mother drank while he was in the womb.
Ilyashenko's hospital reported the conditions at the Geiko household to local
authorities, who took custody of Alexei and his younger sister in December 1998
and placed them in an orphanage in Yeysk. Natalya was placed in a local
orphanage in May 1999.
Svetlana was severely depressed when the children were taken away, crying for
hours without saying a word, neighbors said. However, the Yeysk municipal court
judge assigned to the Geikos' neglect case, Mikhail Okhrimenko, said neither
parent visited the two children at the orphanage.
"The biological parents practically repudiated their children," Okhrimenko
said.
The Geikos have since divorced, and the Tribune could not locate them.
A photo from the orphanage provided by the Pavlis' lawyers depicts a carpeted
classroom where Alex sits with 11 other children. The shelves are furnished
with Soviet-style toys: a plastic phone, a picture game called Lotto, an
alphabet puzzle, some dolls. The children are dressed in slippers, shorts and
the woolen tights commonly worn by preschoolers in Russia. The children have
been treated to ice cream cones.
Amid the young faces, Alex stands out. His head is bandaged, and it lolls to
his left. Stuart Goldberg, one of Irma Pavlis' two attorneys, says this proves
the boy suffered head injuries dating back to Russia.
In Schaumburg, the Pavlises obtained a home study--required for international
adoptions--through the Mt. Vernon-based Baptist Children's Home & Family
Services in May 2003. The agency would not handle the actual adoption, but it
saw nothing to worry about and recommended the couple be allowed to adopt up to
three children "as soon as possible."
"Their approach to discipline would include taking away privileges, time out
and an explanation of discipline to the child," according to a copy of the home
study supplied by Dino Pavlis. "They do not believe in verbal abuse or . . .
corporal punishment."
The report said the Pavlises had "completed the required pre-adoption
training." But this training consisted of reading two books and writing essays
about them, Dino Pavlis said.
The Baptist Children's Home & Family Services has repeatedly declined to
comment on the case, referring calls to the Illinois Department of Children and
Family Services.
The agency's study went to the DCFS in Springfield, where officials certified
that the Pavlises' home conformed to standards such as whether there is enough
room, said spokeswoman Jill Manuel. They also checked to make sure the couple
didn't have criminal records.
Total cost: $11,000
The couple contacted Dove Adoptions, where they found the photographs, but the
agency's rates were beyond the couple's means. They searched adoption
discussion groups and found an independent adoption facilitator in Krasnodar
named Vladimir Zherdev. The total cost would be $11,000.
"When you don't have an agency, it's less expensive," Dino Pavlis said, "but
you've got to find out things by yourself."
During the process, the Pavlises visited Russia twice, as the country mandates
in foreign adoptions. They met with the kids in Yeysk in July, then again when
they returned in October to take them in. When the couple flew to Moscow, each
of them carried $5,500 in cash.
But working with a local facilitator gave the couple less protection in an
unfamiliar country where they didn't know the bureaucracy and spoke no Russian
other than phrases Irma Pavlis had begun memorizing.
An American agency is no guarantee that parents will come away satisfied. Many
parents who have been accused of killing their children found them through
agencies. Still, a good agency will provide advance education on potential
health problems, such as fetal alcohol syndrome, and it will walk parents
through the process and make sure they get the children's medical records.
According to Dino Pavlis, the couple didn't receive full medical records from
the facilitator they worked with. He translated very little, and an orphanage
director mentioned only the girl's colds, he said.
"It's such a rush," he said. "You have such a small amount of time. We found
out when we got to Moscow we did not have the medical records translated, or
any viable medical records. . . . We didn't want to press too much because we
wanted to take these children to help them. We didn't want to be, `Oh, I want a
perfect child, and I won't take them if there's one thing wrong with them.'"
Unbeknownst to the couple, they were dealing with an orphanage for
special-needs children, Dino Pavlis said. The day they took the children back
to their hotel in Yeysk, they undressed the youngsters for a shower and
discovered that Alex's toes were connected. He also had a deformed penis and
little finger, according to a hospital report.
Russian officials give a different account. The couple visited the orphanage,
saw Alexei and his sister, and then during a court hearing were given extensive
information about Alexei's condition, said Dina Semeshina, the judge in
Krasnodar who handled the Geiko adoption. And during the court hearing, the
Pavlises confirmed they were aware of Alexei's medical troubles.
Russian officials refused to specify what the Pavlises had been told during the
hearing about the boy's medical condition. They would only say that the couple
had been informed of his condition.
It is not uncommon for adoptive parents to be confused about the medical
condition of children, say pediatricians who specialize in care for
international adoptees. Russian orphanages almost always provide medical
records of one sort or another, several doctors said. But records often list
only a diagnosis, rather than detailed notes on each doctor visit. And
terminology is often so different that doctors here have trouble making sense
of it.
Hidden problems
"When somebody says we didn't receive all the information, usually it's not
because the information's being hidden," said Ira J. Chasnoff, a Chicago doctor
specializing in adoptive pediatrics. "It's because it didn't exist. If they're
talking about mental health problems or fetal alcohol syndrome or rickets or
any of those kinds of things, those kinds of things are never diagnosed over
there."
One way to avoid such problems is to consult a specialist in America, who can
view video images that prospective parents e-mail from Russia and look for
neurological and other health problems. But like many adoptive parents, the
Pavlises didn't consult a physician here.
Artur Lukyanov, a driver the Pavlises hired in Moscow, noticed problems with
the children. Reached by phone in Moscow, Lukyanov said the children seemed to
misbehave deliberately to upset their new parents. At a Moscow McDonald's, the
girl crumbled her Big Mac into bits and threw it on the table, even though she
was hungry. More troubling, their Russian made little sense.
"Irma Pavlis and Dino Pavlis asked me, `Can you tell me what they're talking
about?' But for me, it was very hard to understand what they were saying," he
said. "By 5 or 6 years old, children should express themselves in more
articulate phrases. . . . Even the pronunciation was incomprehensible."
Most worrisome of all was that Alex began acting out physically. In the
restroom of the Moscow Circus, which was visiting southern Russia, he flung
himself headlong at the floor, Dino Pavlis stated in an e-mail.
Such behavior continued when the Pavlises returned to Chicago, Dino Pavlis
said. They flew on a plane with many other parents adopting Russian orphans,
but nearly all were babies. (Experts say that the longer a child is raised in
an orphanage, the more severe the behavior problems often are.) Arriving late
at night, the Pavlises caught a taxi to Schaumburg. Alex was brooding in the
cab and fidgeting with a knob on the door. He was upset. His new parents didn't
know why and couldn't ask.
In front of their apartment, Dino Pavlis got out, took his son's hand, and
said, "Come on, let's go. Let's go to the house."
Alex threw himself headfirst onto the ground.
"He just collapsed," Dino Pavlis recalled. "I mean, he wasn't just falling. He
threw himself down. And then just started screaming bloody murder. It was late.
Oh, God, it was horrible. And he wouldn't stop. I had to carry him in."
This was the beginning of a string of stressful incidents at the home, he said.
In an e-mail, Dino recounted the joy as well as the pain of adopting. Alex
liked to push the cart in the grocery store and dance to music. He had the face
of an angel. Shortly after they returned from Russia, Dino Pavlis was boasting
about his new family on Lukyanov's Web site: "We just adopted two beautiful
Russian children in November of 2003."
Still, Alex's tantrums continued. Irma Pavlis was home-schooling the children
while they considered their options--possibly a Catholic school.
Both children showed troubling behavior: When the girl was told to stand in her
room, she clawed at her face and drew blood, Dino Pavlis said. Alex began
copying her.
But the girl was doing well in her home schooling, learning the alphabet and
repeating English words. Alex, who was unable to learn to read, was jealous. He
would react if his parents told him to stand still for some quiet time, Dino
Pavlis said. Sometimes he would throw himself on the floor.
"He began to urinate and defecate on himself as an act of defiance," Dino
Pavlis said. "He urinated on himself once after we complimented his sister on
reciting the ABC's.
The home-study agency was expected to follow up, but not until after Christmas.
The couple thought they could resolve the problems by then, Dino Pavlis stated.
In December, the Pavlises were preparing to go to Mexico for Christmas, said
Irma Pavlis' sister, Maria Eugenia Ramirez, who was in Chicago recently to
visit her sister in jail.
It would be the relatives' first chance to meet the children. The Pavlises were
planning to baptize the children during the season of posada festivities
reenacting Mary and Joseph's search for lodging in Bethlehem. Irma Pavlis'
nephew, who is 6, was excited about meeting his cousins. He was planning to
show Alex how to whack a pinata and send candies flying.
Dec. 18--the day Alex was hospitalized--came just six weeks after the children
arrived in America. According to accounts Irma Pavlis gave to Schaumburg police
and to doctors at the Alexian Brothers Medical Center, where he was treated,
she told Alex to do his ABC's in his bedroom around 11 or 11:30 a.m. She was
ironing clothes while her daughter sat in the kitchen, writing letters on a
piece of paper.
For the past two days, the boy had been occasionally blanking out and staring
into space, his head lolling, she would tell physicians. This morning, he
suddenly began rolling his eyes and gasping for air, she said.
The boy had been having episodes in which he faked unconsciousness, said
co-defense attorney Donna Rotunno. When Irma Pavlis saw it was serious, she
attempted CPR. She then called her husband, who told her to dial 911.
Tom Stanton, spokesman for the state's attorney's office, said Irma Pavlis
waited 30 to 45 minutes before calling her husband. The defense disputes that,
saying she called as soon as she recognized the danger.
The Schaumburg Fire Department transported Alex to Alexian Brothers Medical
Center, and he was later airlifted to Loyola University Medical Center in
Maywood. He died Friday of blunt trauma to the head, the Cook County medical
examiner's office stated.
Irma Pavlis called her family in Mexico to cancel the visit, telling them Alex
had fallen down, Ramirez said.
But to police officers who arrived, this story did not add up. A lieutenant
pulled a colleague aside and said he had noticed bruises on Alex's head and
face. Medical examinations determined that most of the bruises occurred that
day, police said.
(Defense attorneys insist that the bruising happened earlier and in places that
indicate the boy's falling and head-banging was the cause.)
Home called a crime scene
Police took Irma Pavlis in for questioning, and the apartment was classified as
a crime scene. The girl was removed from the house.
In an interrogation, Irma Pavlis stated that her son had been wetting his bed,
running into walls and playing aggressively, thus bruising himself. But on Dec.
20, Irma Pavlis allegedly admitted her involvement in the death, a police
report states.
She said Alex had been urinating and defecating in bed and elsewhere, causing
her to become frustrated, Stanton said. "The defendant began to shake him and
slap him, and twisted his neck and shoved him against the closet door," he
said.
Goldberg, one of the defense lawyers, argues that the police misconstrued the
words of a distraught mother and that the statement was inadmissible because
she was not provided with a lawyer after Dino Pavlis repeatedly requested one
in his wife's presence.
The Pavlis family has been shattered. Irma Pavlis is in jail, awaiting trial.
Dino Pavlis remains at their home. The Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of
Chicago placed Alex's sister in a foster home with a Russian-speaking parent.
She is in school and receiving counseling to help her deal with the loss of her
brother.
-------------------------
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail . . . but, a true friend will
be sitting next to you saying, "Damn . . . that was fun!"
-----Unknown
