That was truly interesting on many levels. I remember the big floods of 1993 better than what happened in 1992, but there were floods somewhere up and down the Missouri Valley practically every year.
Leavenworth was, of course, a place most everyone in the Midwest was aware of. To get a glimpse inside at a safe distance (through this piece) was very intriguing.
I don't remember exactly what year, but I was on a jury some time around 1990. It concerned a black kid (20 years old or so) who'd been accused of possession with intent to distribute crack. There wasn't much question that he had the stuff. But the rookie policeman's story of what he saw from a fair distance just wasn't good enough to convince us he was actually trying to sell it when he was caught. The jury been told the kid was already on probation. So we knew he was probably headed to prison for violating that, once we convicted him on possession. We didn't see the sentencing. But there was a sobering moment after the verdict was read, when he was handcuffed and it hit home that, yes, I really was a part of sending somebody to prison.
There was really a good job of demonstrating the position of the public defender in the piece, their limits, the difference one that cares even a little can make. Very well written.
My mother and I spoke about it today. She'd read it...and remembered me telling her about it back then. It surprised her that I still remembered it that vividly. The experience haunted me. It was in many ways a turning point for me -- after that I was never able to look at recreational drug use the same way. And I realized I couldn't be a criminal defense attorney, or prosecutor...I cared too much. And it was just too wearing.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-06-21 07:03 pm (UTC)Leavenworth was, of course, a place most everyone in the Midwest was aware of. To get a glimpse inside at a safe distance (through this piece) was very intriguing.
I don't remember exactly what year, but I was on a jury some time around 1990. It concerned a black kid (20 years old or so) who'd been accused of possession with intent to distribute crack. There wasn't much question that he had the stuff. But the rookie policeman's story of what he saw from a fair distance just wasn't good enough to convince us he was actually trying to sell it when he was caught. The jury been told the kid was already on probation. So we knew he was probably headed to prison for violating that, once we convicted him on possession. We didn't see the sentencing. But there was a sobering moment after the verdict was read, when he was handcuffed and it hit home that, yes, I really was a part of sending somebody to prison.
There was really a good job of demonstrating the position of the public defender in the piece, their limits, the difference one that cares even a little can make. Very well written.
no subject
Date: 2015-06-21 08:34 pm (UTC)My mother and I spoke about it today. She'd read it...and remembered me telling her about it back then. It surprised her that I still remembered it that vividly.
The experience haunted me. It was in many ways a turning point for me -- after that I was never able to look at recreational drug use the same way. And I realized I couldn't be a criminal defense attorney, or prosecutor...I cared too much. And it was just too wearing.