THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Thursday, December 21, 1995            TAG: 9512210349
SECTION: FRONT                    PAGE: A5   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: BY LYNN WALTZ, STAFF WRITER 
DATELINE: VIRGINIA BEACH                     LENGTH: Medium:   60 lines

GRANDFATHER SEEKS TO PROTECT CHILDREN HE FEARS SMOLKA WILL TRY TO CONTACT HIS THREE KIDS.

When Willis Stephenson woke up Wednesday morning, the first thing on his mind was that Thomas Smolka might try to see Smolka's children at school.

For four years, Stephenson has been trying to insulate his grandchildren from their own father, a man Stephenson believes murdered the children's mother, Betty Anne Smolka.

Thomas Smolka's release from jail Wednesday afternoon was going to make Stephenson's job as guardian and protector much more difficult.

Stephenson, a 66-year-old retired bank executive, picked up the phone and started a day of negotiations with lawyers, city officials and school principals to hammer out a policy everyone was comfortable with.

By midafternoon, Stephenson was fully prepared for the impact his former son-in-law's release could bring, his attorney, Glenn Croshaw, said.

While a court order forbids Smolka from attempting any contact with his children - Jeffrey, 15, Katherine, 13 and Molly, 7 - Stephenson is taking every precaution.

``I don't want to speculate on what (Smolka) will do in regard to the children,'' Croshaw said. ``We don't put any act beyond his capability or intentions, and we're prepared to respond to anything he does do quickly and forcefully.''

The children's grandparents - Willis and Betty - have had custody since shortly after Smolka's arrest in November 1991. The custody rules do not include visitation rights for Smolka, and the Stephensons will oppose visitation.

Smolka would have to take legal action to try to get visitation or custody, a move that would be ``highly contested at each and every turn,'' Croshaw said.

The children last saw their father during the four months after the July 1991 slaying, when Smolka moved them to his boyhood home in Delaware before his arrest. The youngest was 3 then.

Even before Smolka was convicted in March of 1993, the Stephensons made the children the focus of their lives and found solace in the love they shared. In August, they were shocked to hear that an appeals court had overturned Smolka's conviction.

``They're happy here. They get along real well. We love them like our own children,'' said Stephenson in an interview at that time.

Those who know them best, including a half-dozen close friends who staged a rally against Smolka's release earlier this year, say the Stephensons' every decision is motivated by one thing: What is in the best interest of the children.

``It's the same thing it's always been,'' Croshaw said. ``It's always been the children. That was the topic of today's discussion. It's what he woke up with. It's what he talked about when I called him midday . . . how to protect the children.''

KEYWORDS: MURDER CONVICTION REVERSAL

RELEASE CHILD CUSTODY by CNB