Rocky Mountain Voice

The record that removed a child: Allegations, filings and fallout

By Jen Schumann | Rocky Mountain Voice

In Part 1, Fitzke describes how things unraveled at home and led into court. From there, the case played out through filings, testimony and what was said in court.

Court filings show the case against Heather Fitzke relied on letters, testimony and screenshots.

In one letter, a Basalt parent described the teen as fearful of returning home and said Fitzke had made life harder by withholding identification, taking money and posting about the teen online.

Another letter included allegations that Fitzke yelled, threw items in the teen’s room, restricted access to medication and expressed beliefs about gender identity that concerned other parents.

Screenshots submitted to the court show a series of text messages attributed to Fitzke. In them, she asks for contact with her child, threatens to involve police and warns others they could be held accountable if they were helping hide the teen’s location.

“I will press charges on YOU & ALL INVOLVED,” one message reads.

A Facebook post, shared publicly under the teen’s name, accused Fitzke of kicking them out, taking money and urged others not to share information about their whereabouts.

Those materials became part of the record considered by the court.

The case also reached back to something Fitzke said months earlier at a school board meeting.

What she actually said

Fitzke said her public commentary didn’t match up with the accusations that were waged against her in court. 

At a Feb. 26, 2025 Garfield RE-2 school board meeting (beginning at 39:10), she spoke about a proposed policy involving gender identity and parental notification.

She argued those decisions belong with licensed professionals and said parents should be informed when a child is struggling. Fitzke also raised concerns about the policy’s legal footing, pointing to federal guidance about parental rights from the Trump administration.

Letters submitted to the court portrayed Fitzke’s remarks in a far more severe way.

One letter claimed she referred to pronouns as a mental health disorder “like a contagion” compared gender identity to a “contagion” and affirmed beliefs that “any LGBTQIA human has a disorder or sickness.”

The meeting transcript does not show that language.

“They put words in my mouth,” she said. “The evidence, they just piled anything they could to stick on me.”

The podcast and the protection order

Days after the guardianship hearing, Fitzke appeared on a podcast to discuss the case and her concerns as a parent.

After Fitzke’s appearance on America’s Mom posted on Facebook, motions were filed against her for the remarks she made.The episode has since been removed. 

In an Aug. 27 complaint, it was argued that what she said added to the tension. Concerns were raised that what she said amounted to harassment. The filing asked the court to limit what Fitzke could say publicly about the case.

An amended protection order issued the same day restricted her contact with her child and limited public statements about the case.

The order states she “shall not harass, intimidate, retaliate, or make threats” and “shall not speak publicly about the protected party… in a manner intended to incite lawless action or physical harm.”

Where the community fits in

The case unfolded during a period of intense debate in Garfield County over school policies involving gender identity and parental notification.

Fitzke was one of several parents speaking at board meetings. Others in the community were also involved—including individuals who would later appear in court filings tied to the case.

At the time, Fitzke said she did not recognize them.

“I did not know I was sitting in the room with the people harboring my child,” she said.

Among them was Ashley Stahl, who spoke during the same school board discussions. In public comments, Stahl warned that policy decisions could have serious consequences for students, including what might happen at home.

Stahl is named in a later protection order complaint, where the filing references this individual among witnesses and alleges they were targeted by statements made about the case.

Fitzke said that realization came months later, after the guardianship case was filed and she saw who was involved.

At the time of the school board meeting, she said, she did not recognize Erin Anderson or Ashley Stahl—and only later realized they had been in the room.

“I didn’t even know who these people were,” she said. “I was in the room with them.”

She said some of those same names were tied to a broader circle her daughter had been spending time with—including youth she had already welcomed into her home.

“They were at my house,” she said, describing how her home had become a gathering place where her daughter and her friends would spend time together.

Fitzke said her home had become a place where kids would come and go—sitting at the table and spending time with the family. “We went on trips… they were with our family,” she said. 

By the time the case reached the courtroom, Fitzke said, those overlapping connections had already taken shape.

What happened after the hearing

Six months later, Fitzke said some of the legal actions tied to the case have been dropped.

The restraining order involving her was not made permanent, but a separate order involving her husband, Brent Fitzke, remains in place.

According to Fitzke, the court classified an incident inside the home as domestic violence. She said the situation involved her husband removing a sliding bedroom door after their daughter slammed it in his face and replacing it with a curtain.

“They told me it was permanent because they had enough to call it domestic violence,” she said.

The designation prevents him from owning or possessing a firearm.

“He’s called a domestic violent person. My husband’s a calm, cool and collected guy. He is not a violent person,” she said. “He raised her since she was three. He saw her as his own.”

Fitzke said the impact on the family has been lasting.

“They lost a sibling,” she said. “My older son… he’s very, very angry.”

“It sucks. I’m missing a kid.”

The cost of fighting back

Her family has spent more than $30,000 on legal fees and still owes about $11,000. She’s also requested the transcript from the seven-hour hearing, but said the roughly $1,300 cost has kept it out of reach for now.

“It’s a seven-hour hearing,” she said. “That’s why it’s so expensive. I want it—I just don’t know if we can afford it.”

Her attorney advised appealing the ruling involving her husband, she said, but the cost has made that difficult.

“It’s not that we didn’t want to fight it,” she said. “It’s what we could afford.”

A warning for other parents

Fitzke said that’s why she’s speaking out now.

“You need to really be aware of who your children are hanging out with,” she said.

“They will weaponize the judicial system against you, and they win,” she said.

“People think it’s not happening here,” she added. “Well it is.”

Read Part 1: How a Garfield County dispute turned into a court case

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