(A loving father, Alan Yurko, is serving a life sentence without possibility of parole for shaken baby syndrome (SBS). Numerous medical doctors have reviewed his son's medical records and have concluded that baby Alan died of a reaction to the DTaP vaccine he was given at the age of two months. The baby's medical records indicated that he suffered from multiple rib fractures on the left side of his body. Evidence shows that this was due to bone disease from severe vitamin and mineral deficiencies and not from handling the baby too roughly. Several papers have been written on this case by knowledgeable and competent medical doctors after independent, thorough review of the medical records.

This case is finally receiving the publicity it deserves. A technical article entitled, Shaken Baby Syndrome or Vaccine-Induced Encephalitis? The Story of Baby Alan by Harold E. Buttram, MD and F. Edward Yazbak, MD, was the feature story in the Nov/Dec 2000 edition of ICA Review, a journal of the International Chiropractic Association. Alan Yurko's article Non-Traumatic Rib Injuries: A Logical and Statistical Conclusion in the Case of Alan Yurko, was also published in the same edition. Both these articles can be seen on this site.

For a helpful overview of the medical case and trial (for lay persons and professionals) see Did Baby Alan Die of Shaken Baby Syndrome? As an article in the September 2000 Redbook magazine points out, there are over 25 cases throughout the United States of men in prison for SBS when the medical records point to an adverse reaction to a vaccination as causing the premature death of their babies. Organized medicine is so obsessed with hiding the fact that its vaccines are killing our children that it has resorted to convincing the courts to imprison innocent parents for this tragic trend.)

I cried while Alan was being born. They were tears of happiness and fear. My wife Francine's pregnancy was very complicated. She was very sick. For this reason, they had to prematurely induce labor. Our baby, Alan, entered this world gray and barely breathing. His lungs were premature and he could not breathe on his own. I felt so powerless and afraid. I videotaped the entire birth. On the videotape you can hear my sobs and gasps over the nurses' and doctors' frenzied shouts and orders. Alan spent the next seven days in intensive care. In fact he never saw the other regular nursery where parents and family cooed at their newborns through the glass. In order to see Alan we had to wear special clothes and scrub our hands with chemicals. He lived in a bubble with tubes and needles in both his arms, legs, throat and nose. There were bruises where doctors and nurses had attempted to insert the needles and tubes. Alan was a very tiny baby.We often coerced the nurses into letting us stay longer with him since I wanted to spend every second possible with our son. The doctors told us they couldn't comment on whether he would make it. It seemed as though the doctors didn't want to answer our questions. I was afraid that he'd die alone with strangers.

One day, I got a hold of Alan's charts and started reading them. I wanted to understand what was going on with my son. The nurse went ballistic on me and was rather indignant. She called the doctor who came down and gave me some spiel about how we are not allowed to look at our own son's charts. It was very hard to sneak in extra time with Alan after that.On about the third day we were told that Alan took a turn for the better! My wife Francine even got to breastfeed him and they took some of the tubes away and put him in a different bubble. He was discharged a few days later. He wasn't even given a monitor or anything. He was also very yellow and jaundiced. The doctors told us this was normal and would clear up in a few days. We eventually found out the reason he did not get a breathing monitor--our insurance coverage didn't allow for one.

We brought him home and he was given a prince's reception. I carried him in the house where Mom and Dad cooed over their grandson while his four-year-old sister watched in amazement. My wife was still very sick. She had only gained two pounds the entire pregnancy. She has been warned to not get pregnant again. Mom and Dad lived about ten houses away and we are all very close. Alan was doted over and we argued over who got to change his diaper and jested at one another about who got to feed him last and such. The love and bonding he gave all of us far outweighed our expectations. He was not a fussy baby; in fact, he was quiet and tranquil. He had weekly pediatric visits and although we pointed out that he was still jaundiced and went back and forth between constipation and diarrhea, we were told it would clear up. Alan was real yellow for the first 30 days of his life. Finally the doctor said we should give more bottle feedings and put him in the sunshine for short periods, and his jaundice finally cleared up! We trusted our pediatrician.

Vaccinated
At two months old, Alan was given his routine shots. He received six different vaccines. The doctor told us he would be fussy and feverish for a week or so but that that was normal and that it meant the vaccines were working. True enough, by the next morning, Alan was feverish and fussy. He wasn't eating right. Obviously, the vaccines were working. I was so happy that Alan was "protected." He stayed that way for about nine or 10 days. Around this time he developed this really strange high pitched cry. A couple days later his feedings got really strange. Instead of six ounces of formula every four hours, he went to 1 1/2 to two ounces every two hours, and he was spitting up more. My wife by this time had just gotten back to work.

On the 24th of November, she left for work. We had decided to take Alan to the pediatrician when she got back from work because, even though the doctor said he'd be fussy, something didn't seem right. We never had the chance. I fed Alan and then while changing his diaper he spit up a fair amount of his feeding. As I grabbed a clean burp rag, I then noticed that he was pretty still. I cleaned him up and noticed that he was not breathing! He sometimes would stop breathing for little short periods of time and always was grunty and congested, but this time he wasn't catching his breath. During this whole time, our daughter was at my side. My adrenaline kicked in--we had planned for this, since Alan was a premature baby. I checked for something obstructing his air passages. Nothing. I gave CPR. Nothing.

My wife had the car! Alan was still naked when I ran next door to the neighbors while shouting to my daughter to get her "shoesies" on. I didn't knock. I yanked the door open with my right hand and grabbed his car keys. I didn't ask. I shouted, "He's not breathing!" as I left to get in the car, Alan in my left hand. My daughter got in the car as I kept breathing into Alan's mouth when I could to get oxygen in him. My daughter was crying and kept asking me, "Daddy, what's wrong?" "It's an emergency!" I drove to the hospital, which was only about two miles away, with the accelerator floored. I ran a red light. One hand on the horn and steering wheel; Alan's mouth to mine. Breathing. I shouted to my frightened daughter, "Put your seatbelt on!" I never shout at my princess. She was scared. More breaths. I fishtailed into the E/R parking lot and opened the door. I even put the car in park before we stopped moving. I ran into the E/R with my naked blue baby and daughter in tow. I handed Alan over the counter and said, "He's not breathing!" The nurse whisked him through some back entrance behind the counter. I tried the access door. Locked. I jumped over the counter. Another nurse tried to block my way. We locked eyes. "Watch my daughter!" A pause. She nodded and I passed her. Where did they go? There. Commotion. Small room with doctors/nurses and yelling.

They stuck a tube thing that looked like a huge turkey baster down his throat. They pumped. His stomach blew up like a beach ball. The doctor's shout, "Wrong tube! Wrong tube!" They pull it out and air releases in a gurgle from his stomach. They put the thing in his throat again. Pump. Again, his stomach balloons up. More shouts. I scream, "What the hell are you doing to him???!!!" They all look at me. A nurse asks me to leave. They hadn't noticed me until now. I told her I would shut up and stay in the corner and that I didn't want him to be without his family if he died. She pushed me in a corner and gave me a stern look. They then put a huge needle in his chest. Then they got the shock pads. I had to step to step out of the room because of some machine they had to bring in.

A doctor came out and said, "He's breathing." I hugged him. I thanked him. A nurse came out and I hugged her. This is when I finally broke down and cried. I had to call my wife. I saw a phone behind the counter. I helped myself. "Honey. Get to the hospital right now! He stopped breathing!" She hung up before I could get any further. A cop came in and asked me to move my car. I had left the car running, door open, and it was blocking the entrance. I saw my daughter with the nurses playing with toys. Thank God. I moved the car. My wife arrived. She was crying. I told her he was breathing now. She sobbed with relief in my arms. The doctors told us they thought he was septic and that he needed a machine to help him breathe. They then life-flighted him to a bigger hospital. When we got there, we waited and waited and waited.

Your son is going to die/you are under arrest: The doctor called us into a room and told us Alan was going to die and that he had broken ribs and his brain was bleeding. Just like that. I asked him if he had the right baby. He shook his head, yes. My wife went into shock. She was hysterical and needed to be sedated. I still believed it was a mistake until police detectives came and interviewed me. They kept asking me if he fell. No. Did you drop him? No. Did you shake him? No!! Did anyone ever hurt him? No, No, No. He never fell, was never dropped, rough housed or abused. Never. They kept asking me how it could have happened. If this or that was possible. Over and over in a hundred ways. They separated us and interviewed us all: Mom, Dad,... everyone. They even went and interrogated our neighbors. No explanation was ever given. I was soon arrested and placed in a maximum security isolation cell. They took our daughter away to interrogate her. I was denied bond. My wife was left alone, desolated. They convinced her to terminate life support and donate Alan's organs.

Let's Wrap This Up. You, Too, Are Under Arrest.
The morning after, the hospital called Francine and rudely told her to hurry up and get to the hospital so they could "wrap this up" by noon. She went down to the hospital and kissed her prince goodbye. As soon as she stepped out of the room and the switch was flipped, she was taken by detectives for more interrogation. They told her that she would never see her daughter again and that she would be charged with first degree murder unless she helped them fabricate evidence by placing a secretly taped phone with me, at the jail, where she would attempt to get me to incriminate myself. She would also have to testify against me. She told them to go to hell. True to their word, she was arrested and charged as promised. Despite social worker recommendations, our daughter was placed in extended custody to protect her from me, the accused, who was still in maximum security without bond.

During our daughter's "extended custody" which was during the holidays, she was sexually battered and molested when her "protectors" left her unsupervised with two boys who had a history of deviant behaviors. She was four years old. Because our daughter would not talk to the state-appointed psyche-specialist and despite the fact that she did tell several social workers and others what transpired, and despite the fact that graphic statements were given by all the children involved which were sickeningly disturbing, the official ruling on this was, "Although it appears that something did happen, because Devry refused to talk to the psychiatrist, we are forced to deem this case unfounded." We were later told that a social worker whose recommendations were ignored had resigned from her position in protest. We still have all the documentation.

My wife's charges were eventually thrown out of court and our daughter was returned almost immediately after her molestation. Our house, vehicle, and savings were liquidated and a five-figure debt built up. We still owe money as legal costs are outrageous. I didn't fare so well in court. I was charged and convicted of first degree murder and aggravated child abuse and sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole, plus 10 years. I ask that you read the rest not thinking, "What if he's guilty?" but, "What if he's innocent?"

The "trial" was short. The prosecution had six witnesses—all doctors. We had one expert witness. The state's expert witnesses all said that Alan died from Shaken Baby Syndrome (SBS). The prosecutor made me out to be a monster. There was no money left for a paid lawyer. I had public defenders. Our expert was a highly esteemed professor and neuropathologist with two Ph.D.s and over 200 published articles whose specialty is infant deaths. He reviewed the tissue slides and medical records and testified that Alan's death was of a natural disease process and not due to trauma because all the bleeding in his brain happened shortly before he died. He was in the hospital for 75 hours and the blood in his brain was only 8-24 hours old. It came down to what the jury believed, either their doctors (all local) or our expert witness, from a major university medical school. The jury believed the state's witnesses, the local doctors. I could go on for days about the dirty tactics, sleeping jurors, mysteriously missing records and an entire raft of amazing mistakes and violations of due process that transpired during the campaign to pin the responsibility for my son's death on me, but that will be the subject of another article.

Post Conviction
After my conviction, we still really did not know how our son, Alan, died. With my wife and daughter still faithfully and adamantly believing in me, we started a campaign to search for the truth. No more trusting doctors. No more trusting lawyers. We were going to do something about this ourselves. After all, both of us are educated and I even have a pre-med background from college. We wrote thousands of letters. I obtained medical books, legal books, journals, texts, and articles. From where I sit in prison, I study day and night. I wake up reading and writing and go to bed reading and writing. After nearly a thousand letters we began receiving replies from interested doctors. The real experts are lining up for the pending appeal. Many started to receive our records. Over the years they have tutored me. At this point, we have nearly 80 doctors, scientists, authors and professors who can support my claims of innocence with science. Hundreds of people and organizations are behind us. I did not murder our baby.

About a year ago, while pouring through the medical records and turning every stone, we found several doctors who said that the vaccines administered to Alan are what killed him. In fact, we have numerous experts who say this now and have concurred with my innocence: Drs. Harold Buttram, F. Edward Yazbak, Mary Megson, Viera Scheibner, Mike Godfrey, Archie Kalokerinos, Douglas R. Shanklin, David Mirkin, Harris Coulter, Marvin Miller, Horace B. Gardner, Peter Baratosy, Colin R. Paterson, Richard Moskowitz, Alain Scobey, Kris Gaublomme, Warren Bruhl, and W. Jean Dodd. Other experts who concur with my innocence are Hilary Butler, Greg Wilson, Catherine Diodati, Grace Girdwain, and Maureen Hickman. I assure you that this list is very abbreviated.

Of course I didn't believe it at first. I was taught that vaccines are safe and effective. So I pored through thousands of articles, books, texts and medical journals. I picked people's brains and questioned everything. Amazingly, it's all there. All the proof that vaccines are killing our children and animals is right there in the literature! 100 years and thousands of articles in medical journals. How can it still go on? What about the ribs?I know what you are thinking: Yes, sure vaccines are known to cause brain damage and hemorrhage, but what about ribs? To answer this requires a long explanation, however, in short, I will say that after one reviews the records thoroughly, one will see that it's impossible for his ribs to have been broken by abuse or trauma. At my appeal, two bone experts, one in the U.S. and one in Scotland, as well as an Australian expert are going to testify that my son's ribs were damaged, not from abuse, but from disease. The evidence indicates that the broken ribs had been healing since they were broken as he was being born during a difficult delivery. My own report, Non-Traumatic Rib Injuries: A Logical and Statistical Conclusion in the Case of Alan Yurko, has been published in the ICA Review (Nov./Dec. 2000;56(6);84-87) and is freely offered on my website: Click Here. After reading this article, you will have no doubt as to how Alan's ribs were damaged.

International Support Growing
We have many organizations behind us and giving their open support: VacLib (Vaccination Liberation), PAVE (People Advocating Vaccine Education), MCC-FHC (Missouri Citizen's Coalition for Freedom in Healthcare), AVN (Australian Vaccine Network), VRAN (Vaccine Risk Awareness Network - Canada), ALIS (Association Liberte Information Sante -France), CFIC (Coalition For Informed Choice), VICN (Vaccine Information and Choice Network) and many other organizations too numerous to mention.

"Hottest" Lot in VAERS History
This past Christmas (Dec. 2000) a major discovery and breakthrough was made. We finally obtained government Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS) data that shows which vaccine lots are "hotter" than others by the reports of adverse reactions received for each. A "hot-lot," as defined by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, is a batch of vaccines that has 10 or more reports, or two seizures, or two deaths. The DtaP that Alan received was lot #DTAP7H81507. Not only is this particular DtaP lot a "hot lot" according to VAERS, but it is the hottest, most lethal lot in VAERS history (U.S. 1990-1999). This particular lot ranks first in deaths and first in non-recoveries of 810 lots reported. Of the 64 events reported on this lot, the average time from vaccination until reaction is 11.45 days: The same time as Alan's lethal reaction. My son's killer has a name. It's DtaP7H81507; not ARY-AX13917 (the number assigned to me by the "justice" system).

I urge anyone who goes to my website, www.freeyurko.bizland.com, to read the medical documentation and make a stand with us. This case is more than just a case about one family's tragedy or one man's innocence. This is happening all over the world [Yurko is aware of 140 cases of SBS nationwide that have resulted in a parent being wrongfully convicted and imprisoned]. Our case offers a unique vehicle to make a stand against unsafe medicine, iatrogeny (medical errors), corruption and tyranny. We need a lot of help, and not just monetarily. The most important thing you can do is share this information with others. If you choose to not help our endeavors, please help others who are in need of your assistance. This could easily happen to anyone. Above all, remember that vaccines kill! Don't be an accomplice—investigate before you vaccinate.

Alan R. Yurko X13917, Century Correctional Institution, 400 Tedder Road, Century, Florida 32535. I cannot receive mail from other prisoners, and I am not allowed to receive internet material or published material unless several provisions are made. I am only allowed to receive letters, photos and up to 20 stamps.

Editor's Note: Alan has amassed a library of thousands of medical journal articles and article reprints that he is willing to share with those who are interested. He was a pre-med student before going to prison. In the last three years, he has become a paralegal, and is very well versed in forensics, vaccines and the medical sciences.