Day 87: We, the jury…

 

It was Thursday morning, the week of jury trial and I had woken up and slowly made my way to the coffee pot.  I had to be in court a little later than the usual 8:30 am start time.  I decided to take the morning and go for a long swim to clear my mind.  Whenever I am in the water, I feel protected from the elements of the world around me.  No one to converse with, no judgments to be made, plenty of time to think as swimming is a rhythmic activity but not one that exhausts me.  It is well-known that water seems to soothe us when our muscles ache, we retreat to the sea during the Summer season for rejuvenation, we bathe in it for comfort and relaxation, we swim in it for enjoyment… we were immersed in it for 9 mos. until we emerged into this world.  Yes, this world, that among all of its good qualities, still has us retreat back to the water for solace, comfort, protection, and healing.  And this is how the second part of this unappealing Quest began, with the need to feel protected and soothed… swimming miles wishing I didn’t have to leave the pool, but alas the legs were tired and the arms decided it was time to stop and take on the day, whatever it might bring.

I decided on this day to wear my swinging black skirt, a white sleeveless blouse and a sweater around my shoulders.  I remember that my Grandmother use to say that sometimes in order to feel good it helps to look good.  And that is exactly what I decided to do.  I arrived to court with just a couple of minutes to spare.  Then before I knew it, it was announced that court would be delayed.  We waited for what seemed to be an additional hour and the jury was summoned.  As we filed in, I was wondering, “Will the defendant testify?”  I wanted to hear from his lips in that courtroom, what it was that happened that night… how he could account for the severe bruising all over little baby Luke and the brain injuries that forever changed that little boy’s life.   And yet the medical witness testimony continued.  The defense began their questioning of their own physician who did say he could not account for the bruising on baby Luke’s bottom and when the State asked if Luke were his patient and would he call authorities for suspicion of child abuse, the physician stated, “Yes.”  Heavy sigh…

One after another, the witnesses were called.  Those on the State’s side said without a doubt the injuries were sustained due to severe child abuse.  Those on the defendant’s side held onto the theory that the baby’s head injuries were due to a fall down a couple of steps, but never addressing the bruising on the rest of little baby, Luke.  At the end of the day, the testimony seemed to be a repeat of the previous day.  But what I wanted to hear, the words from the father himself, would not come to happen.

I left Thursday night with some trepidation.  Friday it was planned that we would hear from a couple more witnesses and then closing arguments would be presented and then we, the jury, would have that heavy decision laid in our laps.  It was at this time that the realization began to set in.  And as I crossed the bridge I stopped to take one last picture and I hesitated.  I stood for a moment and watched the sunset over the mountainous horizon.  I closed my eyes and again all I could see was that sweet precious face of little baby Luke.  How sad, I thought… this Father,  won’t hear his little boy’s first sentence spoken or witness the day he is potty trained, or hold his hands to help him learn to walk, or……  One moment of rage and anger had taken all those precious moments away.  I did feel some sadness for this young man.  It was mentioned that he was up for a promotion at his job, he was also a certified EMT, he lived on his own and was making strides to be a good Dad.  But one thing that stood out that was mentioned was that he didn’t have a support system to help him with his fatherly duties.  Was this an excuse to beat your child?  Certainly not.   I thought about how one catastrophic event usually happens when there are several things missed or overlooked that cause the entire system to implode.  Yes, there were certainly factors that led to this tragedy, but it does not absolve him of his sins.  So, I lifted my phone up to take a pic of the sunset one last time and I said a silent prayer for both little baby Luke and his father.  I figured nothing can fix the damage done, not even a prison term is a strong enough Band-Aid for this injury, but perhaps the powers that be might listen to soft-spoken juror #11 who didn’t want to be in this situation to begin with.  And Thursday night ended as quickly as it began.

It was Friday morning and the coffee was brewing and I was glad court would start early as I didn’t want time to contemplate the inevitable… I just wanted to get to court and face the task as if it were a beast that I needed to get past.

I still held out hope that the defendant would find the courage to speak… but following the jury being seated, it was clear, that would not be happening.  The defendant’s mother entered the courtroom.  She appeared to be in her early 60’s with gray short hair and a soft voice.  She was determined in her statements that the alleged actions were out of her son’s character.  She acknowledged his comments in a text that he had sent to a friend admitting that he had “Snapped”, but stated he had never done that before.  When asked if she could believe that her own son committed such horrific acts of violence with her grandson, she began to weep and in a broken and emotional state, said, “No… not my son…”  It was at that moment I had to look down and pretend I was taking notes as my compassion and empathy were beginning to emerge for his mother.  Perhaps if the defendant could have just called his mother to have her settle him down that fateful night, I wouldn’t have had to relive this tragedy from a juror’s position but more importantly, little baby Luke would have a promising future.   Alas, it didn’t matter at this point.  I stiffened my back, raised my head and focused on the facts.

Before I knew it, the clock showed it was close to lunch and both sides had rested their case.  The judge dismissed the jury and instructed us to be back in almost 2 hours at which point we would hear closing arguments and begin to deliberate.  I had decided that I was going to indulge in a delicious lunch as I wasn’t convinced deliberations would end quickly and I had that tiny feeling the day would be long.  And so, I left the courthouse and made my way to the Wild River Grille.  I was the only one in the usually bustling restaurant and I preferred it that way.  I needed the time to think through all the evidence and find some consolation that when this is done and over, the right decision will have been made.  I still didn’t have much of an appetite but bite after bite, I felt more secure that justice would be sought, in a thorough, competent and right way.  I paid my bill and made my way back to the courthouse for the last time for this case.

The jury was assembled and we sat for closing arguments.  Both the state and defense presented a complete case.  The state did not have much to prove as the evidence really did speak for itself, at least in my mind.  The defense tried to raise doubt as to how baby Luke suffered those brain injuries, while trying not to mention the extreme abuse to the rest of the baby’s body.  And all the while, the defendant sat in his seat, no emotion, no facial expressions…  And as if someone had taken a magic wand and waved it, the case was magically laid in our laps.  And this is where I came to realize why I was in this courthouse, on this week, with this case…

 

As we sat, the question was posed if anyone wanted to be the foreman of the jury.  I placed my head down quickly as I did not want to be in that position if something important needed to be said.  I felt that if the foreman were to try to persuade the others it might appear to be bullying and my words might very well carry more weight without that title weighing me down.  A foreman was chosen and so it began…  We all agreed to take a preliminary vote to see where we all stood.  I had already decided to offer up “Not Guilty” perhaps in an effort to show some compassion so that if I needed to step in to persuade others, they wouldn’t feel I had already made up my mind.  The vote began and one after another I heard the dreadful sound of “Not Guilty”.  My mind was flurrying about, wondering what it was that could account for this decision.   When the vote came to me, I softly said, “I am leaning toward guilty but for the purposes of a preliminary count and until I review one piece of evidence, I will offer “Not Guilty”.  The final count was 7 Non-Guilty-5 Guilty.  I sat back in my chair and decided to watch how the discussion went.  The conversations were flying!  Many were saying that they felt that the head injury could have been caused by a fall and therefore they did not feel that served as child abuse.  I encouraged the foreman to reread the instructions to the jury in an effort to clarify if all the injuries were included in that charge or if they were separated out.  While this issue was being addressed, the gentleman next to me was determined that the defendant did not cause the injuries.  The others continued with the same discussion and I realized that the jury was truly conflicted.  The foreman seemed confused on the instructions and with the help of others was able to interpret the directions.  The first charge alleged that severe child abuse had occurred by the defendant.  In the instructions it remained clear that the injuries need not be held all together, but it would be presumed that if one of the injuries appeared to be child abuse, then a “Guilty” verdict needed to be rendered.  The second charge stated that due to the injuries, the victim sustained pain that lasted longer than what would be felt from the initial injury.  So, it was decided that we would take on the first charge and deliberate.

Still, there were several that argued that the head injury could have occurred from a fall.  Then the juror next to me stated that even though the defendant was an EMT that had nothing to do with the case…. and THAT is when this soft-spoken juror#11 decided it was time to use her voice for all that is just and right!

I quickly sat upright in my chair and began to speak…  Let me paraphrase what was said.

“I think now would be an appropriate time to disclose a little bit of information about myself…”  And the room fell silent and the remaining jurors sat upright and leaned in to hear what it was I had to say.   “I, happen to be a former paramedic who worked in Chicago.  I also happen to be a registered nurse…  I have seen many cases such as these both in the field and in the emergency room.  Let me help explain about the background and base of knowledge that the defendant had in his possession that fateful night.  He was certified in rendering emergency care.  He acknowledged in the confession that he watched the baby throughout the night for the specific signs and symptoms of a concussion.  Yet, he did not follow the very basic instruction that if a suspected head injury occurs to seek medical care immediately.  He never did call 911.  No, he waited nervously, probably formulating a story ALL night, while that baby’s head bled.  He stated that he did not remember what happened that night with the fall.  Really?  How many of you are parents?  How many remember every detail of your child’s first skinned knee or the nights that they were seriously ill with a stomach bug or virus, or the broken arms they sustained?  You wanted so badly to take their pain away that you relived those moments wondering if there was something you could have done better to avoid the injuries and illnesses.  This was a sentinel event in both of their lives and he has the audacity to insinuate that you as parents are not smart enough to realize that he was lying when he said he doesn’t remember how the baby supposedly fell?  He sat in the interrogation and rendered a confession and described in detail every moment of when Luke was born in the hospital.  He described the situation in a clinical but factual way.. every LAST detail… and he couldn’t remember his own baby sustaining the head injuries and bruising that would bring him to death’s doorstep and forever alter his life?  I beg to differ!  He caused that little baby to have the marks on his bottom, lest you forget that child had a diaper on his bottom and the force of a grown man hitting his baby repeatedly left a hand print which was his signature.  He caused the head injuries to that baby’s head, and admitted as much in the confession.”  Just then the juror next to me said, “I don’t know about that.”  I said, “Did you not see the confession?  We can watch the entire thing if you have doubts.  He willingly by his own volition and without the request of an attorney being present, he let the words form and leave his lips that he hit the baby, stood the baby up and let him fall several times, and that he spanked the child hard!  He also demonstrated those acts using a child size doll.   I know you saw and heard the exact confession I did and those words came from his mouth without a gun held to his head.  There is no doubt in my mind, the defendant is guilty!”  Heavy sigh…….. I looked around the room and in a somber way the heads began to acknowledge “Yes”…

I felt like I had let my heart bleed on the table, I was left without energy as what I had kept tucked away all week finally came out as if it were out of my control.  I wasn’t going to sit there and let common sense get lost in the mix of words and semantics.  Little Baby Luke was not there to say what needed to be said, so I felt I needed to be his voice.  And by the grace of ALL that is just and right, the final vote was taken and it was unanimous, the defendant was GUILTY on the two charges presented.

I looked over and juror #9 sat and read the charging document over and over again.  I looked over and said, “We have already voted.”  He said, “I know I just want to make sure.”  I expressed my empathy that we all need to go home and sleep at night with the decision we made, but it was the right decision for the sake of that little baby.  He nodded in agreement but continued to read the document anyway.

Finally, the jury was called to give their verdict. It was read aloud and court ended with the defendant being taken into custody, we would come to find out that sentencing will take place at the end of the year but he is looking at 2-20 years in prison.  We were asked to stay after court to meet with the judge.  As we sat there Judge Hardy came and met with us.  He had obvious tears in his eyes and apologized for being a bit emotional as he said this case hit home as his 8 month old granddaughter laid in his daughter’s arms in the back of the courtroom at the end of the case.  He couldn’t comment on the case but assured us he empathized with the gravity of the hard decision we all had to make.  He kindly shook each of our hands and thanked us.  It was a kind gesture and somewhere in his facial expression I could read that he agreed with our decision, although the words were never spoken.

We all walked out of the courthouse together and quietly thanked each other for the camaraderie from the week.  I walked ahead and walked over the bridge but did not stop this time to take a picture.  Instead I quickly thought about baby Luke and how honored I felt to be a part of his justice.

 

And as if something greater than myself could hear my thoughts, it was in that exact moment that the church bells rang.  I stopped dead in my tracks as this seemed all too surreal.  I was not even aware there was a church nearby but the sound of bells echoed across the river.  I felt almost entranced by the delicate sound and just listened with my eyes closed.  And when the melodious message stopped, I smiled… and whispered, “Serendipity.”

The next day I was again drawn to the water. I took the day to head to the Lake, there by the water’s edge I sought comfort, solace, protection and healing from the events of the week.

 

 

 

I sat on a granite boulder and in the crisp fall air, I watched and memorized every ripple that came ashore and relished the stillness of the moment.  The sunset behind the mountains was unlike any I had ever seen before.

 

 

Forming in front of me was a sky ablaze with every red and purple hue in the color palate.  It was as if the sky was dancing above the mirrored waters of Lake Tahoe in honor of the justice that had been served.  This soft-spoken juror #11 finally felt free…free of the responsibility, the anguish, the pain of the testimony presented, but one thing remained, the image of little baby boy Luke with the cutest cheeks, the softest brown hair, those long eyelashes and the hope for an easier life than what is predicted.

Feeling free of the weights of the scales of justice, relieved that 12 people made a just and right decision, consoled by the healing waters of Tahoe confirmed by a sky singing praises for a little baby who has the fight of his life ahead of him, but now understanding why it was that this once shy and sheltered girl needed to use her soft-spoken voice to help affect change for the sake of a voice that could not speak with words that needed to be said.

 

Happily wondering what tomorrow will bring…