Bleeding a Father Dry

“They didn’t just try to take my kid—they tried to take everything.”

— William Sewell

South Carolina’s family courts weren’t designed for justice. They were designed to bleed you dry and leave you broken. No case illustrates this better than that of William Sewell—a father, a mechanic, a veteran—who walked into court seeking fairness and walked out with his life dismantled, piece by piece, dollar by dollar.

This wasn’t a legal proceeding. It was an orchestrated mugging, conducted in daylight, under the color of law, with smiling thieves in suits.

The Pattern: Lawyers Who Do Nothing, Bills That Do Everything

Sewell began like so many others—thinking that by hiring an attorney, he could navigate the complex world of family court. What he didn’t realize is that in South Carolina, hiring a lawyer might just be the first step in feeding yourself to the wolves.

Over the course of his case, every single attorney he hired either did nothing or actively worked against him. Thousands of dollars disappeared into legal retainers and hourly bills that delivered no results—just missed deadlines, failed filings, and deafening silence in court. Some of these lawyers even appeared to cozy up with Donnie Gamache, the opposing counsel, a man who had a personal and political history with Judge Mandy Kimmons long before the gavel ever hit the bench.

Rather than fighting for Sewell, these attorneys seemed to be playing for the other team. One by one, they folded, settled, or disappeared. Meanwhile, Gamache kept running up his own bill—at one point, exceeding $100,000—with bloated hours, unnecessary staffing, and procedural delays designed to drain Sewell’s resources and force him into submission.

The Guardian Ad Litem: $25,000 to Ignore a Parent

Enter Jason Wheeler, the Guardian ad Litem (GAL), whose court-appointed job was to serve the best interests of the child. Instead, he served the bill.

Wheeler had already charged thousands for his “services,” which included almost no meaningful contact with Sewell, no thorough review of Sewell’s submitted evidence, and no honest representation of Sewell’s role as a father. What Wheeler did find time for, however, was cozying up with Gamache’s team, loitering in the courtroom during trial even when he wasn’t needed, making sure his presence—and his next invoice—were impossible to ignore.

And just when it seemed the billing circus had peaked, Wheeler tried to slap on another $25,000. For what? For who? Certainly not for the child. And certainly not for justice.

Judge Mandy Kimmons: The Facilitator-in-Chief

Presiding over this courtroom circus was Judge Mandy Kimmons, who never met a financial injustice she couldn’t enable.

Not only did Kimmons allow the unchallenged billing chaos to continue unchecked, but she issued a final ruling so extreme and so cruel that it can only be described as retaliatory. In her order, she ruled against Sewell entirely—demanding he sell both his house and his business, the very things that allowed him to provide for his child. That’s right: she stripped him of the ability to parent, and then stripped him of the ability to survive.

Sewell—a working-class father, a veteran, a man who did everything in his power to keep the trial short, honest, and focused—was punished at every turn. Because in Kimmons’ courtroom, it wasn’t about justice. It was about extraction. It was about sending a message.

This Isn’t Family Court. This Is Racketeering.

Let’s call it what it is: a racket. A revolving door of judges, attorneys, and court-appointed parasites who exploit the vulnerability of family litigants for personal gain.

• Attorneys who bill to lose.
• GALs who bill to ignore.
• Judges who punish honesty and reward billing.

And it keeps working, because the system is designed to exhaust you. To punish you when you speak up. To bankrupt you when you resist. To isolate you when you expose it.

That’s exactly what happened when Sewell came to me to tell his story. He thought that maybe—just maybe—if the public knew what was going on, something would change. But instead of justice, he was further punished by the same actors he dared to name.

Where Does It End?

It ends with accountability. It ends when judges like Mandy Kimmons are held responsible for enabling economic abuse from the bench. It ends when GALs like Jason Wheeler are removed from cases for gross incompetence and bias. It ends when attorneys like Donnie Gamache are investigated for extortionate practices under the guise of legal representation.

But most of all, it ends when we stop pretending this is justice. When we say aloud, as a public, as journalists, as citizens:

This isn’t law. This is theft.

This isn’t custody. This is coercion.

This isn’t family court. This is financial warfare.

William Sewell didn’t lose his case. He was looted.

And if this court system is allowed to continue operating like a cartel in robes, you could be next.