Tracking Deadbeat Dads

Nov. 4, 2005 — -- Robert and Victoria St. John started their married life with a fairy tale wedding, celebrating their union in one of Chicago's most glamorous hotels.

Vicki was a former Miss Illinois; Rob was an ambitious young stock trader. It was the early '90s, and Rob prospered in the market, making nearly $5 million in one year. They were rich at home, as well, living in tony Lincoln Park, a lakefront suburb of Chicago, with their children -- a boy, Parker, and a girl, Robyn.

Victoria described their life as "blissful." "We had a blessed life," she said. "The kind of life people dream about."

But it didn't last. There were the usual fights about money and time, and after just 2½ years of marriage, Robert filed for divorce. And that's when life for Victoria and her two children turned nasty.

"My ex-husband, for whatever reason, was angry and hurt, and he was on a mission," Victoria said.

That mission, she says, was "to see me without any of his money and without our children. You know he always said to me, 'I have nothing to lose. You'll either be broke, or I'll get the kids.'"

The child of divorce herself, Victoria says she refuses to speak badly of Robert to the children.

Victoria tells her kids, "'I was there when you were born, I saw how your dad was, so in love with you, and how happy he was. And that he's a good man who's made some very poor choices.'"

Buying Diapers With a Bag of Change

But those choices made Victoria's life of plenty suddenly disappear. She says she was left to literally gather coins from under the sofa to buy food and diapers.

"I was going to the grocery store that we used to go to with an account, with baggies of change to buy diapers," she said -- an experience she calls "humiliating."

Yet at the same time, records reportedly place Robert in strip clubs, where, according to Victoria's lawyer, Rico Mirabelli, he withdrew thousands from ATMs. Plus, her lawyer says Robert was spending thousands more on his Chicago rent and on the legal bills, totaling hundreds of thousands of dollars for the child custody fights.

Eventually, Victoria says she was forced to sell her Chicago home.

"I was completely overwhelmed with debt," she said. "And the house fell into foreclosure, my electricity was being shut off."

Robert paid child support for a few years, but then she says the checks suddenly stopped. The court issued an arrest warrant, but first Victoria had to find Robert to serve it.

"I have been unable to find him," Victoria said.

Finding Pastor St. John

As hard as it was to go without Robert's money, she says it was tougher to see her kids, who are now 11 and 13, go without seeing or even speaking to their father for three years.

"This past Father's Day was the most difficult day they've had," Victoria said. "Their friends were saying, 'Oh, we're making breakfast for our dad,' and 'You know, we're going to go shopping and buy our dad gifts for Father's Day.' And that morning my children woke up before me, and they came into my room and declared it Mother's Day."

Victoria was out of money and could no longer afford to track Robert down. So "20/20" stepped in to try and pick up the trail. We tracked him from South Carolina to upstate New York, and found a BMW connected to one Robert St. John. Right next door lived one of Illinois' most notorious deadbeat dads.

When asked, Robert insisted he didn't own the car. Officially, he was telling the truth -- the $35,000 sports car is apparently registered in his new wife's name. And "20/20" had watched days earlier as he drove it away.

Robert insisted he still talks to his kids -- despite our evidence to the contrary. Robert also told us he stopped paying child support because he lost his job. "I owe back child support because my attorney didn't file a petition to have reduction the day it happened, when I told him to," he told "20/20's" Jim Avila.

Over time, Robert fell more than $40,000 behind on his payments.

Robert no longer trades securities or futures. Now, he calls himself Pastor St. John and -- along with his new gospel-singing wife -- has a Christian radio show on a small station in upstate New York.

Soon after "20/20" tracked him down, St. John returned to Chicago and met with his kids for the first time in three years. He even cut a deal to start paying some back support. But Robert also picked a new fight, hiring lawyers to again file for custody of his kids, and he quickly racked up another $20,000 in legal fees.

Much of the St. Johns' fortune is now with the lawyers. Ironically, Robert chose to pay far more in legal fees than what he owed in child support.

Meanwhile, Robert has had access to money, according to Victoria's lawyer. Mirabelli says that bank records revealed that more than $100,000 was moved through one of Robert's savings accounts. During that time, "not a single penny went for child support," Mirabelli said.

But Robert blames Victoria, saying she's the one behind the expensive legal battles. "Every bit of it is her fault," he told "20/20."

'I Will Ruin You'

That bitterness and bile is the common theme in many deadbeat dad cases.

Clarissa Kirschenbaum is another formerly rich divorcee now supporting the two children she had with her husband, William, a very wealthy New York banker. The couple lived in an 11-room Park Avenue apartment -- the entire top floor of a luxury building.

When the Kirschenbaums' 17-year marriage ended in divorce, Clarissa says William told her, "I will ruin you. I will do everything in my power, you will not have a dime."

Clarissa did win a big settlement, including $9,000 per month in child support and alimony. That was fine on paper, but as Clarissa told "20/20": "What no one tells you, and should tell you, is that enforcement is up to you."

In fact, court records show that Clarissa's ex-husband owes about $500,000 to her -- plus interest -- in child support and alimony.

He even spent several weeks in jail for non-payment at one point. And still, she says he didn't pay her a dime. When William was released from jail, he disappeared.

"That was so crushing to me that I absolutely said, 'You know what? I can't keep doing this,'" she said.

So now Clarissa works 2 1/2 jobs teaching and tutoring to pay the bills. Exhausted from her own work, and tired of winning in court only to be outrun in the real world, she spent thousands of dollars on private detectives who trailed her ex. But they finally had to give up when the trail went cold, so Clarissa asked "20/20" for help tracking down dead ends.

Dinner With a Deadbeat Dad

An Internet search of William's name produced a Web site with his name and picture boasting of his success as a consultant and investor in China.

Since William is always looking for investors, "20/20" arranged a business lunch with him. Hidden cameras recorded the meeting, where William was confronted by correspondent Jim Avila.

AVILA: We saw your Web site and how successful you're doing, and you're doing so well and your ex-wife has to work 2½ jobs to feed your kids, and we really are wondering how a successful businessman can let that happen?

At first, William just sat there, stunned. Eventually he said, "I have to think about it a second."

William admitted he felt "horrible" about the situation. But he didn't leave the table; instead, he took off his coat and ordered lunch on "20/20." The questioning continued.

AVILA: People look at this and say, all you're doing is trying to get away from your obligations by moving to China, that's what it looks like.

WILLIAM: It may look that way, but you know what, I can't meet my obligations here.

AVILA: But you're not meeting them there. It would be different if you were sending checks home from China, wouldn't it?

WILLIAM: Correct, but I have a real chance to meet those obligations fairly soon.

William never denied owing the money. Finally, William told "20/20" he would be willing to meet with his ex-wife and try to work out a deal.

William Kirschenbaum was later served a subpeona demanding he appear in court. Clarissa's lawyer, Howard Benjamin, hoped the judge would threaten him with jail time, telling "20/20" that money often "shows up" when deadbeats are faced with the threat of prison.

However, William never showed up to court, and instead flew back to China. He wrote a letter to the judge which said, "there are some assets that I could transfer," but since he couldn't pay the whole amount yet he'd rather not face jail again.

Clarissa was again devastated by his behavior. "If he's put any food in his mouth without providing some food for his children, there's really no good out for him," she said.

On the upside, these two mothers, Clarissa and Victoria, now take pride in the life they are struggling to create on their own, working hard to bring in money and keep their kids on the right track.

Victoria even hosts a regular support group for divorcees, sharing the wisdom she learned from her own painful situation: "Divorce with integrity. And love your children far more than you hate your spouse."