The first fathers' groups bonded in the '70s around allegations of child abuse, which they said their former wives were fabricating to deny them custody. But with the focus of domestic violence shifting, the fathers now rally against what they say are false allegations of spousal abuse.

The Massachusetts Legislature passed Chapter 209A in 1992, establishing the nation's first computerized registry of domestic-violence offenders and authorizing restraining orders that bar offenders from having contact with the person who was granted the order. Women's shelters had reported 69,000 calls for help the previous year, prompting then-Governor William F. Weld to declare domestic violence a public emergency.

About 85 percent of those who took advantage of the new law have been women. They can get a restraining order at any of 97 courts in the Commonwealth, or get an emergency order by phoning a local police station, which can contact the judge on call at any hour. Getting an order was supposed to require a hearing, but with crowded courts, restraining orders have for the most part been routinely granted if a judge gets an affidavit from a woman saying she is in fear. If there is a hearing, the rules of evidence do not apply, meaning hearsay is allowed.

The number of restraining orders, known as 209A's, has declined slightly in recent years, though there are still around 53,000 issued annually, or about 145 a day. A state court study in 1994, the last year available, found that 70 percent of the men with 209A's issued against them had been arraigned, though not necessarily convicted, for crimes in the past. About half had been arraigned for violence against another person.

But many lawyers and some judges say they now believe women are often taking out restraining orders not out of fear, but to get leverage in divorce cases.

Before the advent of the 209A, women who wanted their husbands out of the house first had to file for divorce, then for a motion to vacate. That required a hearing, and lawyers fees to prepare for it. A restraining order forces the accused out of the house immediately, and sometimes into jail overnight or for the weekend, if the order is issued when court is not in session. Until a hearing, where the man might make a case to get back in the house, it can be 10 days, or even months.

Once a judge grants a restraining order against someone, that person's name is entered into a batterers' registry, where it stays even if a judge later vacates the order. Some judges have tried to expunge the names of those whose orders are vacated - or found to be issued without merit - but the state's Supreme Judicial Court ruled in July that only a change in legislation would allow that.

"It's a dramatic tool," says Haskell Kessler, a longtime Boston divorce attorney. "Its purpose was to ensure protection from abuse, but you see more and more of them in middle- and upper-income communities where oftentimes it's more for the purposes of game-playing."

These days, lawyers and judges say they only rarely see motions to vacate, making them suspect restraining orders have assumed that function. In many cases, they say, lawyers advise clients to take out an order.

"There are certain lawyers that you can be sure the minute the custody fight looks a bit acrimonious, there is going to be a 209A," says Gail Gelb, a Boston divorce attorney. "If my client tells me 'My spouse has hired this person,' my first reaction is "Pack your bags."

Judges who came to grant the orders almost reflexively in the early outcry against domestic violence now worry whether they are granting 209A's too easily. In a clogged court system, they say, it is hard to find time to decide who to believe, much less hold a full hearing.

"It's an awful problem, because while there's more domestic violence than we like to think there is, our sense is that the 209A's are not infrequently abused," says Middlesex Probate Judge Beverly Boorstein. "This law is having the side effects that aren't intended. On the other hand, we're at risk of terrible things happening. Nobody wants to be the one who denies one Of these orders when something terrible happens."

Stories of violations for minor infractions are legion. In one case, a father was arrested for violating an order when he put a note in his son's suitcase telling the mother the boy had been sick over a weekend visit. In another, a father was arrested for sending his son a birthday card. Boorstein says every judge has seen at least one case where a woman takes out a restraining order, then returns to have it vacated so she and her husband can remarry.

"It has been a horror for the divorce bar," says Ann Baum, a Boston lawyer. "In cases that could have been negotiated or settled on a calmer plane, it ups the ante, and makes everything that much more hostile."

KATE ZERNIKE
Culled from the Boston Globe, 05/19/98.
� Copyright 1998 Globe Newspaper Company.

Editor's Note:- Much as I dislike using articles from newspapers, this one is one of the best on divorced dads we at MACHO International have ever seen. MACHO International is therefore unanimous in saluting Kate Zernike for this brilliant piece of work. Thank you very much, Ms. Zernike. For your honesty and insight.
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