Massachusetts, Again
By: Maureen Steele
There is a familiar feeling when a new affidavit crosses my desk.
On February 16, 2026, Thomas P. Quinlan of Westford signed a sworn statement in Lowell Juvenile Court describing the removal of his children from his care. I have read too many of these affidavits over the past several years, as a journalist, as an advocate, and as a co-author of The CPS Pipeline: State-Sanctioned Kidnapping. The language is different every time. The ache is not.
In Case No. 26CP0018LO, Quinlan describes himself as the primary caregiver to his two children. He writes of his daughter, Bella-Rose, 4, and the constancy he says he has provided since the first day of her life. He writes of his son, Alexander, 6, who has Global Developmental Delay and a history including Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome. He describes building a home structured around safety, routine, and understanding, particularly for a child with special needs.
“My children are not just my priority,” he writes. “They are my life’s purpose.”
And then, according to Quinlan, on February 11, 2026, they were removed.
He alleges procedural failures in the aftermath, that summonses were served after the removal occurred, that statutory timelines under Massachusetts law were not properly honored, and that efforts to raise those issues have been met with resistance. He further claims that the intervention followed his filing of formal concerns regarding medical record irregularities involving his children’s provider.
Those allegations have not yet been adjudicated. The Department of Children and Families has not publicly responded to these specific claims. Juvenile proceedings are sealed in Massachusetts. But what is undeniable is that another Massachusetts father is standing in court insisting that his family was fractured without proper due process.
For those of us who documented the Rivera family’s case, featured in our film “Taken” this story feels painfully familiar. In that case, five children were removed amid disputed service issues, emergency orders, and allegations that procedural safeguards were bypassed. A family separated for nearly a year and at the end of the state’s case, zero abuse or neglect was proven.
Massachusetts is not alone. Across the country, child welfare agencies remove hundreds of thousands of children each year. Federal data routinely shows that approximately 85% of removals are tied not to allegations of physical abuse but to findings categorized as “neglect,” a term broad enough to encompass poverty, medical disagreements, or educational choices such as homeschooling. That breadth is where the national scandal lives.
Critics argue that the statutory structure gives enormous discretion to agencies and judges, often under emergency timelines, while parents struggle to assert constitutional protections in a sealed system where procedural errors are difficult to challenge publicly. Defenders of the system insist that removal is a last resort necessary to protect vulnerable children. That is not what investigators see.
Between those two positions are families like the Quinlans.
In his affidavit, Thomas Quinlan does not write in legal abstractions. He writes about bedtime routines. He writes about being the one who knows how to calm his son when the world becomes overwhelming. He writes that his children tell him multiple times a day that they love him and call him their “best friend.”
He writes that every hour of separation is a loss that cannot be returned.
Whether the court ultimately finds procedural compliance or statutory justification in this case remains to be seen. That is the purpose of a hearing. But what cannot be ignored is that yet another Massachusetts family now finds itself navigating a system where the state holds extraordinary power over the parent-child bond.
In Taken, we examined what we described as a pipeline, a system where once a family enters, exit becomes extraordinarily difficult. That thesis has been praised by some and criticized by others. What remains undisputed is this: removal is one of the most extreme actions a government can take against a family.
When a father swears under penalty of perjury that statutory safeguards were ignored, that allegation deserves scrutiny. Not because the state is presumed guilty. Not because every parent is presumed innocent. But because due process is not optional. It is foundational.
Massachusetts has been here before. The question now is whether this case represents lawful intervention, or another chapter in a broader national argument about how much power the state should wield over families, and how carefully that power is exercised.
At the center of the debate are two children, a six-year-old special-needs boy and a four year-old daughter who are very attached to their 35-year-old father and grandmother who have lovingly raising them. He is asking for their immediate return.
And that, once again, is where the story begins.
