DeLays' Private Campaign For Kids

At 46,000 square feet, the houses are larger and fancier than most of the children have known before -- and filled with features to help their occupants get along. "You are putting six unrelated children in a household," Gow said, "and hoping things turn out okay."

Each one has seven bedrooms, six bathrooms, walk-in closets, two kitchens, three refrigerators, two washers and dryers, and four hot water heaters. No more than two children share a room, and there is a spare nanny room -- though no nannies yet -- to give parents a break. The floors throughout are cream-colored tile -- easy to clean with the cats and dogs, which are encouraged because Christine DeLay favors pet therapy for youngsters with attachment disorders.

Although children can be of any religion, the parents welcomed here are Christian, married couples with only one working outside the home. They must be experienced as foster parents. After a grand opening last August, 200 people called to say they were interested. Candidates are first screened by Lutheran Social Services, the largest provider of child welfare services in Texas, which works with the parents and children here. The decision rests with Rio Bend, and the congressman's wife interviews many finalists.

The goal is for children to feel as if they are part of a regular family in a close-knit neighborhood. "We have been to plays and bowling. They all have their library card. We go out to eat. Anything any other family would do," said Sharon Horn, who sold her house and gave up a 13-year job as a special-education teacher near Corpus Christi to become the first parent to move in July 2005.

One morning, Sandy Gandy, who is fostering five children with her husband, Larry, noticed Rio Bend kids skipping school in a gas station parking lot. She told them to get to class and notified their parents. "You are foster parents for the community," she said.

Ideals and Investors

Christine DeLay formed many of the ideas behind Rio Bend as a court-appointed advocate for foster children here in Fort Bend County, part of her husband's congressional district of 22 years -- and from three teenagers the DeLays took in during the 1990s. One was a 16-year-old boy who had lived in seven temporary places before their Sugar Land home, and she asked him what was hardest about being a foster kid. "Getting used to the way the pillows smell," he told her.

She decided to build a new model of foster care from the ground up -- one she said can stop "disgusting, repugnant" patterns in which too many youngsters cycle through the system, too many adults shelter kids for the money, and too many foster children end up homeless or unemployed.

Late in 2000, she approached the George Foundation, a Fort Bend philanthropy, to ask for land. The following summer, the foundation approved a first installment of 30 acres, worth $403,000 at the time, to be deeded to Rio Bend once it had raised enough money for the neighborhood to be built.

In part, Rio Bend is relying on local help such as Rotary chapters and Eagle Scouts chipping in. But more than 80 percent of the money raised so far has come through the DeLay Foundation for Kids, the charity established when DeLay was first elected to Congress.

Rio Bend's houses, Gow said, were built at cost -- $260,000 apiece -- by Houston home builder Bob J. Perry, a major backer of Swift Boat Veterans for Truth, which campaigned against 2004 Democratic presidential candidate John F. Kerry. The day Christine DeLay approached Perry to build the houses, she said, he agreed on the spot -- plus handed her a check for $50,000.

For a $250,000 donation, Michael and Susan Dell of Dell Computer Corp. have their names on a metal plaque on one house. Next to a man-made lake stands the ExxonMobil gazebo, and the small library is named for Comcast Corp. Continental Airlines, Gow said, has donated $25,000 a year worth of travel that the Rio Bend staff and the DeLays have used to tour other facilities for children and to attend hunting and golf fundraisers. The companies have also donated to DeLay's political campaigns.

Gow said it will cost about $13 million to build the rest of Rio Bend, and the George Foundation has promised another 20 acres, if the money is raised. Christine DeLay said that her husband will become more directly involved in "making sure the vision gets a chance to be successful," and she predicted they may attract "a different kind of donor" once he is out of the political limelight. Since DeLay's indictment last fall, Gow said, fundraising has slowed as the DeLays raised money for his legal defense and what had loomed as a difficult reelection campaign. "We haven't had time to raise money for this," Christine DeLay said. "How could we?"

Mixed Results So Far

In its early months, Rio Bend has had some growing pains.

Despite the promise of a permanent place to live, 12 of the 38 youngsters here since summer 2005 have moved out. None of them, state records show, has moved back home with a parent. A few were too young for Rio Bend's mission. One girl was too threatening. A boy did not get along with his foster parents.

Two sets of parents have moved out, too. One couple wanted to take in only babies and was asked to leave, said Danny Wright, who works here for Lutheran Social Services. And Iva Power said she and her husband, Michael, moved out last month because they felt Lutheran Social Services did not give them enough support.

Meanwhile, Wright said it would help if state placement workers had a clearer understanding of Rio Bend's goals so that they send the most appropriate youngsters here.

Still, the people creating Rio Bend find early signs of hope. At the first meeting of all the foster kids, Wright asked what they liked best about living here: "The security," one replied.

The retreat center has been used once since the Blackwells arrived. A girl stayed with them last month after she had been suspended from school 28 days, run away three times and behaved so badly in church that her entire foster family was asked not to come back. When she first arrived, Blackwell said, she threw things and cursed but then "sort of mellowed out." One Saturday, she borrowed a dress and heels from his wife to go with them to church. She joined a church choir. And after about 10 days, she moved back into her own foster home.