How a Garfield County dispute turned into a court-ordered separation

By Jen Schumann | Rocky Mountain Voice

Heather Fitzke’s story offers a look at how quickly a family dispute can move from home into the courtroom—and how outside involvement, public statements and court filings can reshape parental authority in ways many families may not expect. That side of the case is laid out in Part 2.

Heather Fitzke says what happened to her family didn’t start in a courtroom. But that’s where it changed everything. She expected to defend herself, and she also ended up arguing with a judge about pronouns. 

That moment came during a seven-hour hearing on Sept. 10 that would change the course of her family.

Fitzke said that hearing came after she had already lost custody of her child through a separate guardianship decision.

On Sept. 10, the judge ruled on several restraining orders, including those involving herself, her husband and Ashley Stahl, who is the director of the Cook Inclusive, a nonprofit “fighting for LGBTQ+ rights in the face of rising hostility.” And lastly, a restraining order filed by her oldest child against her and her husband.

Fitzke, a Garfield Co. mother of six, said the hearing quickly became emotional.

She said the judge raised her voice at one point, pressing her to use the correct pronouns when referring to her child.

“I screamed and yelled at her back,” Fitzke said. “I said, ‘I’m trying… I raised this kid for 17 years. I’m doing my best to be respectful, but you’re out of line yelling at me.’”

Fitzke said moments like that were not isolated and described the hearing as difficult to follow.

“It was a circus,” she said.

Looking back, she said it still doesn’t feel real.

“I never thought that would happen to me,” Fitzke said in a March 25 interview. “Within a year… these people just took my kid.”

But the events that led there had started much earlier.

Six months after that hearing, Fitzke says she is still cut off from her 18 year old. A permanent restraining order remains in place against her husband. The family says they’ve spent more than $30,000 and are still paying it down.

What was happening at home

Fitzke said what happened didn’t start in a courtroom, but unfolded over several years at home.

She said she began noticing changes around 2019, when her daughter started struggling with her mental health, something she believes was tied in part to her relationship with her biological father. That period led to therapy, which Fitzke said initially helped stabilize things.

Over time, she said, new concerns started to surface.

Fitzke said she didn’t realize until later that her daughter had gotten involved in a school art club that also functioned as a gay club.

She said the changes became hard to ignore.

“She was declining… she was cutting again… doing drugs… failing school,” Fitzke said.

Fitzke said she also discovered her daughter was using a different name in certain settings—something she said had not been communicated to her by the school or others involved.

She said she tried to step in where she could—continuing therapy, removing things from her daughter’s room she believed were harmful, limiting certain influences and even looking into a therapeutic boarding school.

That option, she said, required sign-off from the biological father under their custody agreement—and he refused.

“I was just trying to get her to communicate,” she said.

With few options left, Fitzke said she agreed to enroll her daughter at Yampa High School, hoping a change in environment might help.

Instead, she said tensions at home continued to escalate.

At one point, Fitzke said she agreed to let her daughter stay temporarily with friends in an effort to reduce conflict and rebuild communication.

“I am not kicking you out… this is what you want,” she said.

Fitzke said the arrangement was meant to be temporary and included expectations that her daughter would stay in school and remain in contact.

She said that the plan quickly broke down.

“I couldn’t get my daughter… I wanted to know if she’s okay,” she said.

Fitzke said the communication eventually stopped altogether. Without knowing where her daughter was staying, she reported her as a runaway.

From school enrollment to court filing: How the case began

The case did not begin in a courtroom—it began with a problem enrolling in school.

Fitzke said that after months of limited contact, her child attempted to re-enroll for her senior year.

But because she had been reported as a runaway, the school would not proceed without the situation being resolved.

Days later, Fitzke said she was served with emergency guardianship paperwork.

The petition had been filed Aug. 13, 2025, in Garfield County District Court, including paperwork signed by the then-17-year-old.

Among a list of allegations argued for the basis of the emergency guardianship, Erin Anderson wrote, “[Minor child’s] mom is not affirming or accepting of [pronoun] gender identity… She recently reported [pronoun] missing to local police depts and is circulating pictures of [pronoun] being misgendered and deadnamed on local Facebook 3 missing child social media pages.”

The next day, a judge granted emergency guardianship to Anderson, identified in filings as a “friend” and “safe adult.”

Within days, the court heard testimony from several witnesses and found “clear and convincing evidence” that the teen was at risk if the guardianship ended. The order gave Anderson authority over daily care, schooling, and medical decisions.

Fitzke said she was filing motions on her own while trying to keep up with multiple restraining orders, before bringing in a separate attorney for that phase of the case.

When she hired that attorney, he entered the case shortly before the Aug. 20 emergency guardianship hearing, and asked for more time to prepare. 

A conflict already in motion

Disagreements about gender ideology were already playing out in the community. 

There were ongoing disputes revolving around LGBTQ advocacy at a public space in Carbondale, and a Sopris Sun article reported that police were called multiple times over conflicts involving Pride displays. Ultimately, officers said no laws had been broken and treated the matter as a First Amendment issue.

Anderson was also named in the story—who sought guardianship of Fitzke’s child. Ashley Stahl was also mentioned, who had connected with Anderson through local advocacy work earlier that year. 

Stahl said she was involved in organizing a fundraiser and identified herself as a witness in the guardianship case. She also said her fiancé had taken emergency guardianship of the same teen at the center of Fitzke’s case.

Stahl said her family later faced harassment and threats and sought help with legal costs.

 

While Fitzke was attempting to reestablish contact with her child, online posts and fundraising efforts offered a different version of events, portraying the teen as seeking stability and access to education. 

Those involved in seeking guardianship of Fitzke’s child said their decisions were based on safety concerns for the minor, stating, “Mother kicked [minor child] out of the house Dec. 2024 because [minor child] is transgender…[Minor child] feels deeply unsafe with both parents.”

What was supposed to be a short-term solution didn’t hold. Within weeks, the decision about whether her child would come home was no longer her decision—it was a judge’s.

Read Part 2: The filings, testimony and decisions that shaped the outcome