Whatever it takes

I had some running around to do in south Orlando on Saturday, so when I finished, I zig-zagged my way north and east. Of course, I had a reason for that. Let’s say I was a man with a purpose and there was one place in particular I wanted to go — East Oak Ridge Road. Why? You see, after Michelle Parker’s mother, family and friends had first set up their command center in the vacant parking lot of the now defunct Jesse Black Saloon, they later moved it to The Barn in Sanford, where she worked as a bartender. When they left that location, it was as if they were in limbo, with no clear home. Sure, they went to the Daytona Beach area and then Kissimmee to pass out fliers with information on Michelle, but where did they go from there? Early Saturday morning, I saw a report on the news that they had returned to the Oak Ridge location.

I was somewhat concerned about morale after all this time. It was November 17 — 7 weeks ago — that Michelle was last seen. How were they holding up? I’ve got to tell you, morale was very high. There’s no way anyone will ever give up. Granted, most people had to go back to work and the search force has dwindled. Life goes on, you might say, but instead of letting the command center fizzle, they now set it up every Saturday morning at the original location. “This is where she was. It is here, all around here, where we feel closest to her, not in Sanford.”

Yvonne Stewart is Michelle’s mother. Every day she sorts through bits and pieces of information, hoping that something will click.

One of the first people I saw and recognized was Matt Morgan, son of John and Ultima Morgan, of the Morgan & Morgan law firm. I first met Matt at the last hearing (I attended) for their client, Zenaida Gonzalez, back on October 21, at the Orange County Courthouse. One thing that struck me in a good way that day was that Matt was exceptionally polite and compassionate. That’s an incredible asset and it showed me firsthand what kind of an upbringing he had. This day was no different, and I learned something more than that. Morgan & Morgan also represents the interests of Michelle’s immediate family. How many attorneys do you know that would hang around lending a helping hand on a Saturday afternoon? No suit. No tie. Wearing a MISSING t-shirt and blue jeans.

One of the key questions I had, along with many of you, concerned Michelle’s cell phone. Where was it found in relation to the Nela Avenue bridge? Yvonne and her husband, Jeff Stewart, were more than happy to point the spot out for me on a map of Orange County. Jeff, of course, is Michelle’s stepfather.

From the location, it would appear that the person who threw the phone into Lake Conway was crossing the bridge from east to west. That is, if the person maintained the proper lane and threw it out of the passenger side window.

While I was there, some of the day’s searchers arrived back to home base. The gentleman wearing the white visor (third from the right) is Jeff Stewart, a very affable person. News also broke that Dale Smith, Sr., was arrested and charged with the sale or manufacture of a controlled substance, possession of cannabis, less than 20 grams, and possession of drug paraphernalia. We’ll leave that one alone for now.

Yvonne told me, quite emphatically, that she could use your help. Any help! I asked her when searchers should show up on Saturday mornings. She said about 9:30 - 10:00, but to make sure that you wear comfortable clothes - old clothes, or something that will protect your body from heavy brush, sharp prickles and thorns. Old shoes, too, because of the good possibility of wading through a few inches of mud in some areas.

Please take a look at Michelle’s Facebook page, Michelle Parker Missing Person and hit the “Like” button to show your support. And if you can donate something to help defray the costs of food for the helpers and other incidentals, like printing fliers and t-shirts, it would be very much appreciated. You can do that no matter where you live. $5.00? $10.00? Whatever you can afford. This is the direct link to the Michelle Loree Parker Trust, and it’s strictly handled by the Morgan & Morgan law firm, meaning that every penny will go to the effort to find her.

This is the face of a very determined woman, and considering what Yvonne has been going through, I think she’s holding up well. It’s due to one main thing — she will never give up! Neither will any of Michelle’s family and friends, especially Angela, one of Michelle’s closest friends. These are all good people and if you can do something - anything - they will be indebted, and so will I. Believe me, you cannot go to the command center without feeling some sort of compassion, but don’t confuse it with sympathy. Help is what they need.

As I headed out, I needed to eat. Driving north on Hansel Avenue to Orange, I saw a pizza restaurant called The Original Anthony’s. I knew all about the original Anthony’s in Casselberry from when I moved here in 1981. Could this really be the same family? Yes, it was, and I spoke at length with the owner, Mike. Good guy. While the command center was located on Oak Ridge in the beginning, he had donated large pizzas to help out, because, he said, “it was the right thing to do.”

It’s nice to know that people from all walks of life are willing to get involved. In my case, I wish I could do more, but the least I could do is this… keep Michelle in my mind and in the minds of my readers. Whatever it takes to bring her home.

Look, Listen & Learn

Watch this video, which has been released on the CaseyAnthonyisinnocent.com Website. Judge for yourself and feel free to express your thoughts here, in comments.

To me, it looks like she’s sitting in an office somewhere. Also, she says this is the first of many videos, but trust me, I won’t be posting them unless you express otherwise.

Quiet Observations, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

“There is no reason for a 2-year-old child to decompose in a field in a plastic bag with duct tape over its face.”

“I don’t understand people who think Elvis is still alive. I don’t understand people who think we never landed on the moon. I don’t get those people. So I don’t get these people [the jury] either.”

— Dr. Jan Garavaglia, on Sunday night’s program on TLC, The Learning Channel

Yes, I watched it, and yes, it was exceptionally well done, but did I learn anything new? Not much, really. It served to reiterate and fortify the state of Florida’s substantive and well grounded claims made against the mother of Caylee Marie Anthony, charged with her murder and found not guilty by a jury of her peers. I think, mostly, it allowed Dr. G to get some things off her chest. In the end, Caylee’s death was a homicide, regardless of the end result, and it tore at the very fabric of the Orange-Osceola chief medical examiner. This is a case that will forever haunt everyone involved, especially law enforcement, investigators on all levels, and prosecutors, who spent countless hours going to bat for Caylee. Yes, us, too.

God knows we’ve had countless what ifs to ponder; things that never made it into the courtroom and ones that did that didn’t pan out, like the phone call between Erica Gonzalez and the defendant on July 15, 2008, when Casey (I broke my own rule) was on her way to pick up Amy Huizenga at the airport. Gonzalez claimed she heard Caylee being scolded by her mother during that call, but that was impossible because, in his opening statement, Jose Baez said that Caylee was dead on June 16, 2008, a full month earlier.

CLICK IMAGE TO ENLARGE

Why wasn’t that phone call used to it’s fullest advantage at trial? Yes, Gonzalez was questioned on the stand by Assistant State Attorney Frank George, but she couldn’t remember the details at the time. OK, fine, but at that point, she should have been shown the document above to help remind her of what she told law enforcement. She wasn’t. Anyway, that was a key piece of evidence in my opinion, that went nowhere. As a matter of fact, it worked to the defense’s advantage. Why? Surely, a “grieving” mother would have no reason to make up a silly lie about scolding her dead child, right? What would be the point? Why talk to an imaginary person, something she did very well? The state should have expanded on it. (Watch Erica Gonzalez’s testimony here)

Sadly, there are no more points to make because it’s way too late for that. Case closed. I just needed to get that off my chest.

Of course, it’s never too late to remind everyone that, although the case may be closed, the memories are permanently etched in the minds of all of us who lived through it, and history will look as kindly on Casey Anthony as it has on Lizzie Borden, scorned to this day, yet dating all the way back to the 1890s. You know, the nursery rhyme about the 40 whacks she gave her mother that’s still recited. And like the one for Lizzie, I wrote one for you know who over a year ago - 6 months before the trial began, when no one knew the outcome would be similar to Lizzie’s…

THE BALLAD OF CASEY

For the rest of her life

Her name will be mud

For taking the life

Of her own flesh and blood.

For what lies ahead

Is a brewing storm.

Her Caylee long dead

Was fed chloroform.

I did change a few words from my original, but I hope it lasts a hundred years or more. Oh no, not because of me. I don’t care if anyone remembers who wrote it, I just want people to remember Caylee. Whether her mother murdered her or not, she was solely responsible for her death.

Moving on, we come to one of the prosecutors from the Anthony trial, Jeff Ashton, now retired. Today, he’s a best selling author and there are some misconceptions about him making the rounds on the Internet. I’m going to do my best to give you the truth. For sure, Ashton must have been working on his book during the trial, right? Perhaps, before it began, you think? I mean, how else could anyone explain how it was written and published in what seemed like record time? It was roughly 5 months after the trial ended that Imperfect Justice was on bookshelves across America. What gives? According to Suzanne Fox of VeroNews.com, the book wasn’t crafted until after the trial ended, and according to Ashton, not before he took his wife and children on a much needed vacation.

“When we started, I had no frame of reference,” Ashton said. “I figured the timeframe was short, but I didn’t really understand how short until the lawyer who vetted the book for HarperCollins told me that we’d done in three months what usually takes eighteen.”

“I couldn’t have taken on the book project if I was still working,” he added. “Even if the State Attorney would have authorized me to do it, there wouldn’t have been time.”

Of course, having Lisa Pulitzer, a seasoned professional crime writer on hand, helped tremendously. So did a very serious-minded editor, something I learned about while writing for Mike Boslet, Editor-in-Chief of Orlando magazine, during the trial. Get the job done.

That leads me to Ashton’s latest announcement that he’s going to challenge his former boss, Lawson Lamar, for the office of Orange-Osceola State Attorney. Alas, I would strongly consider voting for him except for one thing. I live in Seminole County, home of the 18th District Court. He’s in the 9th, and I can’t vote there. However, I can still offer my thoughts regarding his background and qualifications.

The Super Bowl comes once a year. Half of us don’t remember who won last year when the new one comes around. But after the big event, we look at the losing team as a bunch of, well, losers, not taking into account that they came in second in a field of 32 teams. Out of those teams, Number 2 stands out like a sore thumb. Why? In real life, Number 2 is not a pathetic loser. Yes, the Super Bowl is all about hype leading up to the main event and the media sucks it up like a sponge. Yes, it’s like any great battle, but so was the Anthony case, in a sense, and that one lasted nearly 3 years. Wow! What a build up and what a let down. The only thing is, we can’t obscure facts by skewing history and the truth.

Jeff Ashton was but one of three assistant state attorneys that took on the mammoth and monumental task of prosecuting Casey Anthony. That’s one third, folks, not one person. He was merely a co-prosecutor. Sure, the State should have won, but it didn’t, and we now have a retired prosecutor with a rather sterling 30 year career who is running for political office. I’m hearing some reverberations from several detractors around the Web. I do find it amazing that some people look upon him as a loser because of one case, but that’s the way we live today - for the here and the now, and everyone has personality conflicts. One thing we need to remember is that, during his 30 year career, he tried “some 70 homicide cases” and won all 12 of his “capital murder trials.” (See: Orlando magazine, Dec., 2011., The Prosecution Can’t Rest)

Ashton was the first prosecutor in the nation to gain the conviction of a rapist as a result of DNA evidence. In 1987, Tommy Lee Andrews was found guilty and sentenced to 22 years in prison. That was just over 24 years ago, when he was a young man around 30-years-old. A Florida appeals court upheld the conviction and the state became the first in the nation to affirm DNA evidence. That’s quite a statement, folks. And he’s not one to back away from anything.

Here’s my opinion — take it or leave it. Jeff Ashton is a fierce competitor. Here is a man who did his best for Caylee Anthony. What do you think he would do in the wake of that loss? Quit? Just write books? Do speaking tours? Sure, he could do that, and he should, but he now chooses to stick around and fight for future Caylees and everyone else in Orange and Osceola counties seeking justice. That shows you he’s dedicated and determined and not a quitter. I dare say he doesn’t know how to quit — not the driven man that I have learned to know and respect. Tomorrow morning at 11:00 am, I will be standing on the courthouse steps when he officially announces his candidacy and I will urge him on. 

(Also see Orlando Sentinel)

Jeff Ashton to run for State Attorney?

The Orlando Sentinel and WESH are reporting that Jeff Ashton is poised to announce his run for state attorney. He will make his announcement on the steps of the Orange County Courthouse on Tuesday morning at 11:00 AM. WESH quoted Ashton and the Sentinel speculated.

Lawson Lamar is the present state attorney for the Ninth Circuit Court. He has enjoyed running unopposed in the past, so this should be interesting. Personally, I think Ashton would be a great choice. At present, he is taking care of his best-selling book responsibilities (Imperfect Justice) and, since the trial ended, working as a consultant for the Maitland, FL law firm of Troum & Wallsh.

Just after 6:00 pm today, this statement was made on his official Facebook page: “Please stay tuned we will be releasing more information on what next and how everyone can help, in the next few days. Till then have a happy new year.

Incidentally, Judge Stan Strickland left the bench today. We all wish him the very best in his future endeavors.

Hot off the press!

Anthony Colarossi is the senior court reporter for the Orlando Sentinel. While attending the court proceedings during the Anthony case, both the hearings and trial, we got to know and respect each other. I guess it’s because we were, pretty much, the only ones who actually published our stories instead of presenting them on-air - not to take away from Steve Helling of People magazine. Of course, Anthony is a well-respected journalist and I was just a blogger until I was hired by Orlando magazine to cover the story. One day during the trial, a CNN producer followed me around and wrote about it on the CNN Website. She told me I went into this as a journalist without portfolio and transformed myself into a journalist with portfolio. That’s not easy to do, she added, and I never forgot those words.

Anthony is someone I not only respect, I genuinely like him as a person. I think we talked every single day, and there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s someone you’d like to call a friend, and say so proudly. He’s a consummate professional and he, too, appreciated my writing on a professional level. I would not consider myself in the same league as him for a couple of reasons. We are different types of writers. Where I could write in-depth articles, newspapers won’t allow it while reporting on day-to-day events. An extreme example of this would be USA Today. Short and sweet. What you read there could be read off a telepromptor by a TV personality. Anthony’s articles go deeper than that, but not as deep as mine. Even so, he’s a better writer overall and there’s no real way to compare us.

In today’s edition of the paper, in print and online, he published a very compelling article (and more in-depth) about the Anthony trial and how much the case consumed us in 2011. It’s spread out over two pages and it’s an excellent read…

Casey Anthony case consumed Orlando, nation in 2011

Mike Plumadore, Big Daddy Fake Buster

Poor Tarah Souders. I feel terrible about what happened to her family and I’m not going to question what type of parent she is. In other words, I’m sure she loves her children more than anything in the world, but soon after her father became ill with emphysema, she had to downsize. Money was getting harder to come by, so she moved her three daughters and dear old dad into a ragtag trailer park in rural Indiana. She was aware that the small community held very, very real threats to her girls’ safety. She knew 15 registered sex offenders were the type of trash that lived there, but her own father assured her that all would be okay. Just before moving in, she mentioned two men in particular she was fearful of. One of them was 39-year-old Michael Plumadore. Her father reiterated his claim that no one would ever touch her children, especially Plumadore. So she decided to trust him.

What happened to Aliahna Lemmon was a real travesty, but it’s also a shame that grandpa didn’t live long enough to witness the inevitable; the murder of one of his grandchildren by the man he put so much faith in. Too bad he didn’t have the opportunity to find out the pretty, little, 9-year-old girl was dismembered and disposed of by the man he gave his blessing to; the one who bludgeoned her head with a brick. Too bad grandpa was a registered sex offender, just like Plumadore, and that they both had spent time together in jail. It was also a shame that Aliahna and her two sisters had been staying with Plumadore because mom had been too sick with the flu to care for them. Maybe she just needed a temporary break.

Why would a mother put her faith in any man who lived eons away from an exemplary lifestyle? Was she aware that daddy dearest was also a sexual deviant? Did she believe him because it takes one to know one? We may never know the answers, but common sense should have told her to stay miles away from that perverted playground for convicted child molesters. Who in their right mind would walk into a hornet’s nest of iniquity? With young girls?

For a woman who has her own Facebook account and some knowledge of the Internet, why didn’t it ever dawn on Tarah to look into the friend list of the man who confessed to killing her sweet daughter? In her time of grief, I’m sure she now realizes that she had no common sense or she would have known to look first. Any parent would do that, right?

Last night, I took a look at Plumadore’s Facebook page before it was taken down. What I saw were hundreds of impressionable young girls that made up a fair amount of his friend list. I didn’t have a chance to register each and every one of them in my mind, but a clear pattern emerged. The majority were young girls known as fake busters. Fake busters go after site models.

Fake busters and site models? Yes, and until last night, I didn’t know a thing about them. Site models, according to the Urban Dictionary description, are “average-looking girls who take pictures of themselves making kissy lips and peace signs and edit them excessively with Photoshop.”

“Someone who is insecure and unattractive and just wants other people to say that they’re good looking; someone who fishes for compliments but isn’t attractive enough to get them in person so they take pictures of themselves at indirect angles and over-edits them and uploads them to a site on myspace or facebook.”

Fake busters are trolls that go after site models. They, too, are mostly pre-teen and early teen girls and just like any other other Internet troll, their only mission is to “out” the site models for what they are not - world-class models, as if it’s anyone’s business. There is no difference between them and the trolls who go after anyone anonymously online. They are on a mission of empowerment. So one of them told me. Their goal is to rid the world of online people because they have nothing better to do. And they have certain things in common, like immaturity, low self-esteem and complete jealousy. Believe me, I have first-hand experience with trolls. I know how awful it is to have total strangers do everything they can to destroy someone they know nothing about. It’s lie after lie after lie. I also know how impressionable young people can be, especially girls. No sexism implied.

If only someone in the neighborhood - family and friends - had the insight to look into Plumadore’s past and Internet presence, they would have found a man obsessed with pre- and post-pubescent girls. I have no idea how he befriended most of them, but I saw scads and scads of them adding him to their list around the same time-frame, as if he was on a rampage for young and tender flesh. Who knows how he set them up… “I hate site models, just like you! Let’s go after them!”

His Facebook list of friends was 570 when I first saw it. How could the parents nearly 500 girls not know about this monster? Mr. Big Daddy Fake Buster, the grandest one of all!

If any school-age children were living in my household, you’d better believe I would know who they wanted to mingle with online, and until I could do a background check and whatever else I had available to research them, my children would not have permission to connect with anyone. Chat rooms would be SO off-limits. Period. I’m sure Tarah couldn’t afford a real background check, but she could have asked law enforcement what they knew about the men living in the neighborhood. I would be suspicious of any 39-year-old man, let alone asking or allowing him to babysit my children. And to be alone with little girls? In a deviant-infested trailer park? You’ve got to be kidding me. It’s horrible that Tarah had to learn the hard way - to meet the police this way - but after all, her father, her own flesh and blood, assured her over and over again that no one would touch her girls. He must have been the scrupled one - the one who would never go after his own grandchildren.

Yeah, right. And I’ve got a nice mobile home you can live in for free. Plus, all the candy you can eat!

Pictures from Mike Plumadore’s Facebook account

Merry Christmas from Marinade Dave

This video is a combination of my work and cakefilm out of The Netherlands. The scenes of the hunter are cake’s work. The music and build-up after the final shot are my work. And the credits, of course. My friend Frank Foran sent it to me and I couldn’t resist.

Snakes and Rats and Spiders, Oh My!

Dr. Eddie DelValle is a humble man. He is the CEO and president of TBC Productions, which focuses on natural healing. He also runs With Love Ministries, a traveling Christian community service organization. Late Saturday afternoon, he was cleaning up the grounds on Suburban Drive, where Caylee Anthony’s remains were found on December 11, 2008. He does this at the request of the Chickasaw Oaks neighborhood, where George and Cindy reside, and for Bring Kids Home, the public charity that aspires to build a memorial on the Suburban site. While you may not recognize Eddie, he organized the Peace Walk for Caylee just hours after her mother was released from jail on July 17 of this year. He also put together the Suburban Drive balloon release, which I did attend, on August 5, Caylee’s 6th birthday. When Michelle Parker went missing, he was in charge of the candlelight vigil held for her on November 20. She disappeared 3-days earlier, on the 17th.

Since I began writing about the Caylee Anthony case, way back in 2008, I have been as pragmatic as possible. I can’t tell you how many times I said that a memorial for her on the site where she was found was not only impractical, it was downright dangerous. I still believe that, but after seeing what Bring Kids Home wants to do, I have softened a bit. While I still believe a memorial would be better served elsewhere, I do admire the plans put forth by the charity. However, one of my main arguments remains the same - that Caylee did not die there, and a memorial would only serve to remind us that she was tossed out like a bag of trash. Literally.

Speaking of Trash

While the Bring Kids Home plan still remains a dream, reality brings me back to the same message I preached when countless people wanted it to be a permanent shrine. There’s a school at the east end of Suburban Drive. Children walk by it during the school year. Granted, the sidewalk is across the street, but leaving countless stuffed animals is very enticing to children. They act as magnets. The ground drops down several feet, and it’s sometimes flooded. In the world we live in today, you could say it’s not user friendly.

I was there Saturday afternoon, watching Eddie clean up. All of the stuffed animals, save one, were tossed into garbage bags. He takes them home and slowly has them, piece-by-piece, hauled away with his household trash. There’s just too much to take at one time. I told him I had a problem with the type of memorial that’s there now because it invites rats, snakes, and other types of vermin that could harm school-age children and unsuspecting visitors who just stop by to pay their respects. Eddie’s wife was sitting in the van, but she told me she had seen a huge spider earlier. Eddie made a good-sized fist and said it was all of that, if not bigger. We all agreed that it’s not the kind of environment conducive for a memorial. Not in its present form, anyway. The new memorial plan is to elevate the land and keep it clean. I’ve seen architectural renderings and they look magnificent, but now, it’s just a repository for filthy stuffed animals and one more very important thing… MOLD. Yes, bags and bags of moldy stuffed animals are thrown away each time Eddie makes the rounds. Mold and mildew is not good for the lungs. It is unhealthy and his message was clear - if you want to bring something in honor of Caylee, bring flowers. Almost every stuffed animal is thrown away, so your money is going to waste. Some of the animals were large, too, probably costing $50 or more, only to be hauled away to spend the their remaining days in a landfill. What a nice reminder.

Why not donate the money spent to a good charity instead? Why not donate money to Bring kids Home if you want the location to be a permanent marker for Caylee? Like I said, only one was good enough to save. Eddie told me that the good ones go to homeless or domestic violence shelters. Why don’t visitors do just that? Stop by and pay your respects; then give. Help others instead of the vermin. I noticed that some of those stuffed animals were ripped into, and stuffing was coming out. What a perfect for rats to collect bedding! Better yet, Eddie said, what a great place to make a bed. How inviting.

Let the pictures tell the story…

CLICK ANY IMAGE TO ENLARGE

Eddie said he watched a hawk follow me as I drove up, and as I was walking around taking pictures, he tried to point it out to me. He seemed somewhat amazed because the hawk kept it’s eyes on me. “He keeps watching you,” he said. I was rather unfazed, but it was an interesting part of my visit to Suburban Drive. I told him it was the same lightpole OCSO used for measuring where Caylee’s skull rested. It was a fixed point. I distinctly remember those coordinates. 89’ east of the lightpole, 19’8” due south. It’s the 6th photo down in this series - the one with the light brown teddy bear at its base. When I took the pictures of the hawk, his (or her) stare shifted away from me, but he knew I was there. It’s almost as if he proudly posed for my camera. In the bottom image, he seems to be keeping a watchful eye over that sad and lonely place in the woods.

Cautious Observations

I drove down to Carter Glen Condominiums and Townhomes late Saturday afternoon to poke around Dale Smith II’s neighborhood. When I put his address into my iPad 2 TeleNav GPS Plus app, it only directed me to the entrance of the development. While I had no problem gaining entry, I had no idea where to find his building, so I drove around. Fortunately, I did know the number and it didn’t take long to single it out.

Of utmost importance to me is to remind everyone that, while Smith is OPD’s only suspect in the disappearance of his ex-fiancée, Michelle Parker, he is innocent until (or if) a jury finds him guilty of a crime. Also, I cannot forget George and Cindy Anthony in one sense because, like Smith, they declined to take a polygraph test, and it really caused great consternation and suspicion. A lot of people decided right then and there that they were somehow involved in the murder of their granddaughter and of helping to dispose of the body, none of which turned out to be true. To this day, some still believe it. When people begin to argue with me, and they can be quite adamant and boisterous, I tell them to call law enforcement and the State Attorney’s Office to fight. Tell them they got it all wrong. Include Jeff Ashton please, because he exonerated them, too, in his book, Imperfect Justice. In Smith’s case, I’m not going to proclaim him innocent of anything, but since he is the only suspect, I want to look into whether he could be capable of being involved in Michelle Parker’s disappearance. Wherever it leads, my job at this point is not to be opinionated to any extreme; it is to present the facts for your consideration.

First, here are two overhead views of Carter Glen, Phase 2, where Smith resides. In the close-up shot, you can clearly make out his white van sitting in the driveway.

CLICK ANY IMAGE TO ENLARGE

It wasn’t until I was ready to leave that I noticed a camera mounted near the entrance gate. I did not see one for exiting the complex. If the Orlando Police Department has a copy of the video showing Michelle pulling into the drive and putting in a code, or if she used an electronic gate opener, that would help to establish when she actually arrived.

While shooting the above pictures, I spoke with a man who had been walking nearby. I asked him if he was familiar with the case and he said he was, but not all that much. I was curious about the buildings. It was my understanding that the complex was made up of condos and townhouses. Were there any apartments? No, he replied. The two ends, on either side, are town homes with 2 levels. They have a single car garage. The middle two are condos and they share a two car garage. When I asked him what he thought happened to Michelle, he didn’t really have a clue.

Moments earlier, when I was in front of Dale’s building, there wasn’t much activity, but some children were playing in the driveway of the next building, to the left of his. I wasn’t about to confront them. Driving around, I did observe other people milling about, but for a Saturday afternoon, it was rather quiet. I was trying to see if it would be easy to commit the sort of crime Dale is suspected of, and to be able to escape unnoticed. On the surface, no, it couldn’t be done, but there were other factors at play. For one thing, he lives in a townhome and he has a two car garage, not a single. Secondly, the neighbor directly next to him has a security camera mounted on the small balcony that overlooks the driveway and street. Surely, Dale must have been aware of that camera on the afternoon Michelle dropped off her twins.

The next image is a still taken from the video shot by the neighbor’s security camera. You can see Michelle’s Hummer as it arrives at 3:18 PM on November 17, the time she was last seen by anyone other than Dale. The photo below that depicts the back of her Hummer with the GLOW decals in place. I took that photo where the vehicle was found abandoned, the next day. The last still shows a Hummer driving in the direction of the exit. It also shows the neighbor’s car in his/her respective driveway. The car has a spoiler that helps identify it. There are a few other observations I’ve made…

There is no GLOW decal or any other decal on the exiting Hummer. This is the only inconsistency reported by media, and it directly implicates Dale. However, I observed two more things that may help Dale. Or maybe not. Please understand, my only job is to find facts, and nothing more.

In the first still, the van is not parked on the street. Where was it? In the driveway? In the second still, the van is parked along the street. Why? Where did Michelle park when she arrived? Why was the van moved at all?

You can speculate all you want about it. You can assume that the Hummer was moved into the garage and the door was shut behind it in order to strip it of anything that directly links it to Michelle, but does anyone really know for sure?

Take a close look at the Hummer as it drives away. Do you notice anything other than the missing decals? How about the spare tire cover, as seen in the photo of fliers attached to the tree as a reference. This Hummer has no cover. Why? Was it removed, too, along with the decals? Or was it an altogether different vehicle?

Clearly, OPD has information we are not privy to. How many people living in Carter Glen own a black Hummer? Or are there visitors? How many black Hummers drove into the complex that day? If it’s not Michelle’s, it had to come from one of the buildings abutting the woods on the west side of the development because there’s no other reason why it would be driven past Dale’s, who lives on a corner lot. Assuming it is Michelle’s, 4:40 PM is a far cry from the time Dale gave police - that he and Michelle both left ten minutes after she arrived, around 3:30. It also negates his statement that he was at his parent’s house at 4:30. From the still, we can’t read the license plate. Most security cameras are not that good. Could law enforcement technicians use software to enhance the tag? All I know is that Dale could not drive the Hummer out of the complex alone. In order to dump it on the other side of town, over 12 miles away someone had to pick him up. Or someone else did it. He had no idea his home would be raided, so why wouldn’t he have driven it off the premises after darkness fell, knowing full well that his neighbor had a security camera that would capture it during the day?

When I left, and since I was down in the area of Suburban Drive, I took a ride over there, and I’m glad I did. That should be my next post. Meanwhile, let’s not jump to any conclusions. Not yet, anyway. Refusing to take a polygraph test is not an admission of guilt. Ask the state of Florida about George and Cindy’s involvement in Caylee’s death. As far as any other evidence that surfaces regarding this case, most definitely, have at it.

A Crowning Achievement

At the bottom of this article is a picture of my sister, Maggie, and my brother-in-law, Bud, taken today, December 16, 2011. Bud, many of you may recall, was diagnosed with AML (acute myelogenous leukemia) in December of 2003. His initial treatment, a brand new clinical trial, began in April, 2004, and ran through January, 2005. It failed.

Bud underwent a bone marrow transplant on April 19, 2005. The host donor remains anonymous, but he and my sister did find out the marrow came from a man in Europe. In April of 2012, they will be celebrating 7 years in remission. This is due to Bud’s incredible focus and will to live, my sister’s unrequited love and resolve, and the exemplary work and tenacity of the dedicated professionals at the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, Texas and Orlando, Florida, who saved his life.

In commemoration of Bud’s crowning achievement, Maggie made him a little blinking-light tiara, which he wore today when we ate lunch at Bahama Breeze on International Drive in Orlando. The “M” in AML used to stand for Myelogenous, but today it stands for Miracle.

I will be writing more about Bud’s journey in the near future, along with the work of St. Baldrick’s Foundation, which was brought to my attention by Simon Barrett. YES! That Simon Barrett. (See: DVD Review: Jingle Hell)

This holiday season, the St. Baldrick’s Foundation and the producers of the independent film “Jingle Hell,” in conjunction with the film’s distributor Janson Media, are teaming up to raise money for kids’ cancer research.

If you would like to learn more about becoming a bone marrow donor, please visit the National Marrow Donor Program.

Maggie & Bud - December 16, 2011 - Bahama Breeze, Orlando

Lunch with Mom, Dad & Dave

For Michelle

I had a rather busy Saturday this past weekend, but before I go into that, I want to clarify a couple of things. One, Jeff Ashton is aware of my contest. There are no hidden agendas whatsoever, so don’t be afraid to enter. Two, the original media reports focused on the Hoffner Avenue bridge as the location where Michelle Parker’s cell phone was tossed and discovered after police received a tip. That information is incorrect. It is the Nela Avenue bridge location, and I made the correction on my Over Hell and Dale report. The maps now reflect that change. Sorry for the confusion.

•

On Saturday morning, I drove to Costco in Winter Park to have copies of Jeff Ashton’s book signed. You know, Imperfect Justice… the one I want you to win. From there, I drove down to the area where Michelle Parker’s Hummer H3 was found on November 18, the day after she disappeared. My trusty iPad GPS app guided the way to the 4700 block of Walden Circle, in southwest Orlando. While there, I had the opportunity to speak to several people who actually live in the immediate neighborhood. On the outside perimeter, I asked three or four men if they knew where the vehicle was found and what, if anything, did they know about it. The consensus was clear about where it was found and two of them stated that they had seen the Hummer parked in proximity of that spot 3 or 4 times over the past month. They said, because of her tanning business, she may have had a customer living on that side. They told me they had been questioned by law enforcement and that’s what they told them. If true, it could point to someone other than Dale Smith II as the perp. On the other hand, why would someone in that complex be involved and point evidence their way? The men all agreed that they had seen the vehicle with the “GLOW Mobile Airbrush Tanning” decal clearly visible. This time, they said, the decal was gone.

When they pointed to the spot where the Hummer was found, I drove across the street, parked my car, and walked around. Several men were sitting on their small enclosed porches. I asked them what they knew. I told them about the men across the way and what they said. They showed me exactly where it was found, and a couple of them told me there was another black Hummer that used to park toward the back area as the apartments (or condos/townhouses) extended inside the perimeter.

CLICK ANY IMAGE TO ENLARGE - LARGER IMAGES ARE HIGHER QUALITY

HUMMER FOUND HERE

AREA WHERE OTHER HUMMER PARKED

My real point of Walden Circle and what I found out is very important in one sense. Dale and Michelle had been broken up for a fair amount of time by then. How would Dale know about the Walden Circle location unless he was stalking her? Or if she had this very customer while they were still together, as in long-term, why wouldn’t the witnesses have said they saw it over a longer course of time than a month? Something isn’t quite adding up as far as I’m concerned.

After I left the complex, I drove to the intersection of Vineland and Conroy Roads. On the southeast corner is a patch of woods, and on Vineland, there is a utility road into those woods that’s used to access two elevated billboards. If I was in the neighborhood looking to hide evidence, there’s a place I would consider, so I decided to take a look. Don’t let the overhead view fool you. The brush is a lot thicker in there, as the photos will show.

LOOKING INTO WOODED AREA

I didn’t investigate further because of the tangled brush and, well, the place just gave me the creeps. I left.

What an Incredible Outpouring of Support

From there, I hopped on I-4 and drove up to The Barn in Sanford, where she tends bar. I milled around snapping photos. There was a $10 admission charge and all of the gate money was to go to Michelle’s children and family for search efforts. [This could be a legal issue if Dale Smith II demands the money as father of the twins.]

There were plenty of vendors plying their goods, and they all donated a percentage of the take, mostly 50%, to the same worthy cause. There was food, music, clothing for sale, a bounce house, face painting and more. Lots of fun! I didn’t hang around too long because I’m not much into large crowds any longer and my health cuts into the amount of time I am out and about. I stayed for an hour or so, and when I left, the nice woman at the gate answered “at least a thousand by now” when I asked her how many people were there. I was really hoping for a second wind so I could return, but it just wasn’t in me. Anyway, the festivities continued until 2:00 am after it was moved inside around early in the evening. Not only was the parking lot filled with people, the very large bar also held quite a few. There was a silent auction that you could bid on all day, with donated goods and services, and highest bids picked that night. There was a truck tug-of-war and other challenges, including a cornhole contest.

SILENT AUCTION

Like I said, I wish I could have spent more time at The Barn, but by late afternoon, I was beat. Yesterday on the local news, one station reported that at least 2,000 people showed up. The event was a huge success, in other words. Now, if we could just have the same success with Michelle, she’ll be back to her bar this week, waiting on her loyal customers.

NEVER GIVE UP!

It was 3 Years Ago Today...

Over Hell and Dale

November 17

Until I carefully studied a map of the areas where Dale Smith II lives, where Michelle Parker’s cell phone was found, where Dale’s parent’s live, and where Michelle’s Hummer H3 was found, I couldn’t really make a solid assessment of the particulars in the case. Everything was so spread out and information was sporadic at times. Now, it’s all becoming clear. Take the text message made from Michelle’s iPhone when her brother asked her where she was. The response was simple - one single word: Waterford.

Waterford is located in east Orlando, around the Colonial Drive (S.R. 50) and Alafaya Trail (S.R. 434) neighborhood. Most sources affirm that Michelle was not there; that it was a ploy to confuse law enforcement later on, after she was reported missing. If it did, it wasn’t for long.

The reference to Waterford came at 4:26 pm, moments after her brother, Dustin Erickson, asked for her location. Why that text message is so important is because it establishes that Michelle was not in control of her cell phone by that time. It means that sometime between 3:18, the time she dropped her twins off at Smith’s condo, and 4:26, just over an hour later, something happened to the pretty mother of 3 children.

Smith’s attorney, Mark NeJame, said that he had taken his children to visit their grandparents at 4:30, minutes after the ficticious text message. What transpired in his life between 3:18 and then is anyone’s guess.

We do know that the day Dale & Michelle’s legal row over a lost engagement ring appeared on The People’s Court, she was never seen again. How do we know? A security camera recorded her dropping off her twins at the condo just off Goldenrod Road. Because of the camera angle, her departure was not recorded and no one else reported seeing her subsequent to that time. Three minutes earlier, at 3:15, she and her boyfriend, Nathan Mitchell, exchanged flirty text messages. They had enjoyed breakfast together in the morning.

At the moment, I’m not going to second-guess anyone - not Mr. NeJame, Smith’s attorney - and certainly not law enforcement. While Dale Smith is innocent until a criminal court deems otherwise, if ever, the maps I’m providing sure do implicate him in a big way. What it looks like to me is that he is either very stupid for leaving a huge clue next to a bridge, along the most convenient path between his place and his parent’s, or someone else is setting him up to cause his macro-downfall from grace. Other than well documented anger management issues and run-ins with the law, nothing directly implicates him of any wrongdoing. However, in 2009, Michelle tried to obtain a restraining order against him, but it was denied due to lack of evidence.

Any way you look at it, assuming Dale Smith was somehow involved, where Michelle Parker’s vehicle was found sure does point to an accomplice, in my opinion. The drive from his parents to the drop off point is 3.5 miles. Something tells me the real perpetrator or accomplice did not walk away from there unless he/she lives nearby, within walking distance. There’s just too much traffic in Orlando to escape being seen, although the dark of night does offer a practical cover. Still, it’s a long walk, and remember, the longer a person is exposed to the public, the greater the odds of witnesses.

The Orlando Police Department is keeping tight-lipped about what it has, and rightfully so. My understanding is that it’s a lot, but not necessarily enough. In law enforcement’s favor at this time, because this is an ongoing investigation, is that Florida’s sunshine law does not apply. Not yet, anyway. Meanwhile, let’s hope Michelle’s iPhone and cell phone pings offer up enough evidence that justice will be done. Most of all, let’s pray for Michelle and her loved ones.

CLICK TO ENLARGE

Maps courtesy of Google

Missing Michelle

I had to take care of a few things in the Sanford/Lake Mary area today, so I decided to stop by The Barn, a famous country music nightclub known for hosting some of the genre’s best artists. It’s right up the road a spell from where I live, but in the 30-plus years I’ve been here, I’ve never been there. I stopped by to take a couple of photos of the exterior to show you where Michelle Parker works as a bartender. Michelle, in case you are not aware, disappeared without a trace 2 weeks ago, on the day she and her ex-fiancé, Dale Smith II, appeared on a taped episode of The People’s Court. On that day, she dropped off the one-time couple’s 3-year-old twins at his residence and was never seen again. (Michelle also has an 11-year-old son from a previous relationship.) The Orlando Police Department recently named Smith as the only suspect.

When I arrived at The Barn, two men were about to enter the establishment. I decided to walk up to them to explain why I was there. One seemed to be the in-charge, go-to person. I told him who I was and that my only intent was to do whatever I could to get her name out, not that I expected my site to do all that much, but you never know. Every little bit helps. He invited me in and said he would show me Michelle’s bar. This was about 3:30 and the bar doesn’t open for business until 6:00, so the interior wasn’t all that well lit. Certainly, it was enough to see how large it is inside. I told him I’d never set foot in the place, but I’ve always wanted to. We walked past a main bar and I could clearly see that it was big enough to accommodate several bars, and it does. The Website touts seven in all, including one in an upstairs loft that overlooks the dance floor.

I haven’t been hanging around any bars these days, but there’s an aroma that you can only detect inside a place that pours alcoholic beverages. I guess it’s from all of the liquor bottles and spilled drinks over the years. This place had no carpet that I recollect, so there was nothing to soak up the spilled drinks. Still, it was there. We walked all the way across to the other side, and there it was - where Michelle tends bar.

I could sense the anguish and desperation in this man’s heart. As a person in my position, that of a journalist, I asked him a few questions. He told me he couldn’t really say much, and I understood that. This is, after all, an ongoing investigation. He wasn’t really told by law enforcement to remain quiet, he said, but I know it would do no good for him to tell me his true thoughts of what went down. I told him I had read on one of the Orlando Sentinel threads where several people were stating that if it wasn’t her ex-boyfriend, it could surely have been someone who had been stalking her at the bar. Of course, there’s no really good reason or need for anyone to speculate like this. I did say it sure seemed strange that she would disappear on the same day the court segment aired. Yes, he said, and we mentioned another couple of peculiarities, but we left it at that, with neither of us voicing any sort of strong opinion one way or another.

He told me something that really stuck. He said that Michelle is a really good girl. By that, I knew exactly what he meant. She’s got it all. Aside from being very pretty, she’s a great friend, a loving mother, and an all-around caring soul. The girl has no enemies. She’s incredibly popular and none of it makes any sense, but it never does. I’ve never had someone I know go missing, nor have I ever felt that kind of frustration and helplessness. But throughout my years of dating and befriending many bartenders, their bosses always treated them like family. That’s precisely what this man was all about. It’s as if a chunk of his heart has been torn out, and to a person, his staff feels the same way. Everyone loves and misses Michelle.

I asked him if he managed or owned the bar. He told me he owns it. Eric Thims is his name. He’s a very proud man, and he’s doing whatever it takes to bring Michelle home. This is what’s posted on today’s Website:

PLEASE READ AND REPOST!!!!!!!!!!!! WE LOVE YOU MICHELLE!!!!!!!!!!!

Tonight is Thirsty Thursday as always with all you can drink at The Barn in Sanford, but tonight it is about soooo much more than that! We are having a benefit to raise money for Michelle Parker. It will help the continued search efforts for her as well as her children and family.

Tonight we are having a Bartender Handoff where bartenders from all over Central Florida that know or have worked with Michelle in the past will stand in to support Michelle and work in her place. ALL TIPS raised on Michelle’s bar tonight will go directly to her family.

We are asking that anybody who has a Missing Person shirt with Michelles picture on it wears it tonight! We will have national coverage here like the Today Show and others and we want to be sure that Michelle’s face is EVERYWHERE that they turn their cameras!

So come show your support for Michelle with your shirt and checking out all the bartenders rotating through Michelles bar by the DJ booth. They will be happy to make you a drink and your tips will help bring this AMAZING woman home!

We have the following bartenders standing in for her tonight so come show some love!

Michelle’s sister Lauren
Michelle’s best friend Heather (from Manny’s Chophouse, and worked with Michelle at Cowboys)
Erica (from Hooter’s)
Jess (from Hooter’s)
Carrie (from Cowboys)
Brandi (from Lavish Photography, and formerly from The Barn)
April (The Barn)
Carrie (The Barn)
Dracy (The Barn)
Michelle W (The Barn)
Lisa (The Barn)
Erica (The Barn)
Krissi (The Barn)
Liz (The Barn)
John (The Barn)
Crystal (The Barn)
One Bartender from Rodeo’s in Mount Dora

And if any of her other previous co workers would like to join us we would still love to have you!

See you all there, come help us support Michelle!

Tomorrow night, there will be a silent auction. Local firemen will be auctioned off for dinner. So will Eric. Ladies only. Anyone willing to help out, please do. On Saturday, Dec. 10, a big benefit will also be held all day and night. I may try to attend for a few hours. I wish I could do more because this is eating away at me, too. I never met her, but she’s my neighbor and yours, because this happens every single day somewhere around the world, including your own back yard. Now, I do feel like I know her better. Look at all the countless hearts she’s touched.

Watch the Today Show for more on Michelle. Tim Miller from Texas EquuSearch arrived in Orlando today at the behest of Mark NeJame, who is representing Dale Smith.

The Night I Screamed On Halloween

A few years ago, I told my mother about the scariest Halloween I ever had. I was with a friend from the neighborhood. She questioned whether she would have let me venture out without her at the tender age of 6, but I wasn’t alone, I reminded her. Besides, times were different then. We left our windows open all day and night during hot summer months because air conditioning was a luxury. Screens were what separated us from the outside world. Crime wasn’t something that was ever present in our minds. Heck, we left our front doors unlocked. It was a different era…

It was a chilly autumn night, that Halloween of 1958. It was my first foray out alone. Well, not really alone. I was with a classmate, Harold. We had planned on doing this, by hook or by crook, and no mothers were going to be allowed to come with us! We were out to prove we were men that night, or so I thought, as we ventured out into the early evening. Harold and I were instructed to make our rounds and come home after full darkness fell.

There were lots of other children in all sorts of costumes roaming around, stopping at most of the two story homes in our close knit community. Many were decorated and they seemed like the most inviting - the ones that would give out the best candy!

I remember watching candlelit pumpkins flicker with each eerie twist and turn throughout the neighborhood. Skeletons hung from trees and porches, swaying in the cool, gentle breezes. We spoke of ghosts and goblins and stayed away from dark alleys and back yards — not to mention the houses with no lights — because it meant they were going to grab us and take us down into the dank basement where we’d never be seen again. Or else it meant they weren’t home, but we weren’t going to take any chances.

I had a big brown double paper shopping bag to fill up. That was my mission. There were no paper or plastic options at the grocery store back then. Those were the days when milkmen left glass bottles at your doorstep and rabbit ears or rooftop antennas were the best way to watch black & white televisions. Color TV? Hahahahaha!

Harold wanted to finish the night at his house. After all, we did start at mine. I had never been there before. He lived a handful of houses up; across street from me, and when you’re only six, that’s pretty far away. I wasn’t too crazy about being almost out of sight of my own place. At that tender age, the world isn’t all that big.

Around and around the neighborhood we went. Back and forth, up and down paved streets; to the left and to the right, including places we’d never been. We visited hundreds of homes, or so it seemed. Eventually, we worked our way to his house. It was now dark and I remembered what my mother told me. We’d been out long enough and both of us had plenty of goodies to last a long time. Most importantly, it was a school night.

When we arrived, we walked up the sidewalk and climbed the stairs of his front porch. The porch light was off and it was downright sinister. Pure evil was lurking about. I knew it.

“Are you sure your parents are home?” I asked. We knocked and, in a snap, the door swung open. There stood Harold’s father.

“TRICK OR TREAT!” We screamed in unison.

“I want to see a trick,” he responded. A trick? I didn’t know what he was talking about. Saying trick or treat meant that we were going to get candy. That’s it. What was this trick thing all about?

“When you say trick or treat, I can ask you to do a trick first. Then I give you a treat. Do you have a trick for me?”

Harold and I gave each other a puzzled look and said, “Huh? Nooooo???”

“Well, then, I have a trick for you,” and just like that, his top teeth jutted far out of his mouth and quickly slid back in. I froze dead in my tracks and just stared up at him. Then… he did it again! Those teeth popped out of his face and dangled for a second before disappearing back inside his mouth.

WHOA!!! I let out a blood curdling scream that must have awakened the dead. Today, anyone within hearing range would have called 911 after hearing the panic in my voice. I turned to run but, suddenly, Harold’s mother appeared from behind the door. She quickly came out to comfort me.

“Did you see what he did? He… he…”

“Yes, yes,” she answered, as she wrapped her arms around me. Whatever his name was, she sure did scold him.

“He shouldn’t have done that.” The guy was rolling on the floor, laughing like crazy. I didn’t know what to do, but I wanted to get away from there fast. “When people’s teeth go bad, the dentist has to pull them out. Then, he gives you new ones - FALSE ONES - to chew your food and have a nice smile. They come out of your mouth and you put them back in over your toothless gums. They’re not real.” 

She turned to him and demanded an apology. Me? I was trying to figure out why a grown man didn’t have any teeth, but I was too frightened to give it much thought.

I don’t remember if he said I’m sorry or not, but I doubt it. He was still laughing, I’m sure, and I was still shaking in my boots. She said she would walk me home. I was not about ready to tremble back by myself. Not after that! When I got home, she explained the incident to my mother. What a horror! I think I sensed a snicker or two.

Anyway, I know that my mother reminded me to brush my teeth before going to bed, especially after eating candy. I do remember telling her I would never go back to that house and I never did. Before the following fall, we moved away and that was the unfortunate demise of our friendship. I never saw Harold’s father after that fateful and frightening night. When I was old enough to understand what false teeth were all about, I wondered how the father of a six-year-old boy could have lost his teeth so young. He couldn’t have been that old.

Perhaps, he ate too much candy when he was young. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t bother to brush his teeth.

From the Court House...

I attended the hearing yesterday — the one pertaining to the release of the video deposition of a tricked out defendant in camouflage that the Morgan & Morgan law firm took on October 8. She continuously invoked her 5th Amendment right against self-incrimination, so, in essence, no reliable information came out of the deposition. Morgan & Morgan represents Zenaida Gonzalez in the civil suit against the mother of Caylee Anthony, accused of her murder and acquitted on July 5 of all charges except lying to law enforcement. She has been in hiding since her release from the Orange County Jail on July 17, and for good reason. She is one of the most hated persons in the world.

John Morgan argued that the defendant has no special rights that should prevent the video from being released under Florida’s liberal open government in the sunshine law. For the defense, Andrew Chmelir argued that there was absolutely no reason for releasing the information, and that if it were to become public, it would open his client up to greater scrutiny and hinder her right to a fair trial. Circuit Judge Lisa T. Munyon is presiding over the civil case and, after listening to both sides, she said she has 10-days to decide and will issue an order within that time frame.

Initially, I was against the lawsuit for a number of reasons. One was that Zenaida is only one of a dozen or so people in the immediate area who share the same name as the fictitious nanny named back in July of 2008 as Caylee’s kidnapper. The Zenaida represented by Morgan is the only one suing for defamation. She cites that her good name was ruined and she has been unable to work ever since. Personally, I think it is time for her to move on with her life, but at the same time, I am in agreement with the plaintiff to a certain extent. John Morgan told her from the start that there would most likely be no money forthcoming if she wins the suit because the defendant would not make money off the death of her daughter. Of course, that was prior to the verdict, when most people, including Morgan, felt she would be spending the rest of her life behind bars or sentenced to death. Since her acquittal, she has yet to capitalize on her story, and rightfully so. Public outrage is so strong, for any media outlet to touch it would surely be toxic. Besides, as Judge Stan Strickland once said, the truth and Ms. Anthony are strangers. You can’t believe a word she says. Why would any entity pay for lies?

Today, I do think that Zenaida Gonzalez deserves to have her good name back, but is it necessary to win the lawsuit in order to achieve it? I don’t know, but it wouldn’t hurt. For sure, Ms. Anthony should have been more forthright about this particular Zenaida, so in that regard, especially since Jose Baez admitted in his opening statement that Caylee was dead all along, his client could have readily dispatched this particular Zenaida and no harm would have been done.

Which way am I leaning about the release of the deposition video? Although I do not think it will hurt Ms. Anthony, I’m not sure why it should be. For one thing, I disagree with her defense’s argument that it would impede her right to a fair trial, where the case would be litigated in a courtroom, not in front of the media and under public scrutiny. After all, she can’t receive any more damage than she’s already brought upon herself, right? But on the other hand, I’m not sure one of Morgan’s arguments is all that valid. Does a law firm’s video deposition fall under the same rule of discovery as the state? In my humble opinion, I don’t think so, so how will the judge rule? I don’t have a clue, but it will be very interesting to find out. How many of us really want to see her? Be honest.

§

Why did I decide to attend the hearing? Oh, I guess it was for old time’s sake. I expected to run into some of the same people I mingled with throughout the hearings and, of course, the trial. I felt it would be very good to let everyone know about my health, too, and I was right. There were days during the trial when I looked like death warmed over. One of the deputies told me, “And then you had to run home and write about the day, only to return in the morning.” He was right, and I told him it was more than just that. I had a very disciplined and demanding editor who yelled more than Great Caesar’s ghost! at some of the things I wrote. I will admit that the experience taught me a lot about writing, thanks to him.

It was a very good day to mingle and reminisce. It was also good to re-acquaint myself with John Morgan from years ago, and he was curious about me, meaning he certainly knew who I was. To be honest, he is a very friendly and approachable sort, and extremely polite. When his son, Matt, saw us talking, he made it a point to introduce himself, too. There was no huge ego. Obviously, his mother and father brought him up right, and no doubt, he’s got a tremendous future ahead and I wish him all the best.

Finally, allow me to put one rumor to bed. According to an extremely reliable source, who shall remain nameless, Judge Strickland is relinquishing his bench for exactly the reason he stated. After 16 years, he wants out. He wants to help his wife with her business. This has absolutely nothing to do with any sort of investigation into how he handled the issue with the “blogger” named Marinade Dave or his statements made after the trial on Nancy Grace. Yes, WFTV hinted that there may just be an investigation, but my source was quick to point out that Channel 9 is the first and biggest one to sensationalize the news. Anything for ratings.

Rest assured, there is no investigation and Judge Strickland had every right to say anything he wanted after the trial ended. Besides, he already knew by then that he was going to retire. The decision was something he gave much thought to. This is a judge who so richly deserves a huge round of applause from all of us. I am honored to know him.

I will be away from my computer for several hours today. If you get caught in moderation, I will let you out when I can - later today.

No Ordinary Joe

Jobs Well Done

I watched a movie online the other day that was filmed in Ireland. I didn’t recognize one of the vehicles, so I Googled Irish cars and came up with nothing, as I suspected, but one of the search results led me to a question about the positioning of floor pedals, particularly with regard to left and right side driving, meaning which side the steering wheel is on. Do the pedals change positions? No, they don’t. It’s CBA the world over - Clutch, Brake, Accelerator, left to right. Some things never change. Some things do. Sometimes, it’s for the better.

Left-side and right-side driving made me think again about living in a right-handed world when I am quite left-handed. Of course, left-handed people must learn to adapt, and the older I’ve gotten, the more adept I’ve become, but it still doesn’t go without notice. There will forever be minor issues, all of which right-handed people take for granted every day.

As many of you know by now, I spent years in the design trade before transitioning into writing. I still like to dabble in design work, and in most cases, I do it gratis to help out friends or friends of friends. Since I am a creative sort, I use more of the right side of my brain than some, such as mathematicians, logicians and the like who conceptualize more in algorithms and computations. That’s from the left-side. It’s more of a black & white world, where mine is more in shades of gray and multiple colors. I have always thought more abstractly. Think different, so to speak. God knows, that describes me to a “T”.

When I moved to the Orlando area in 1981, I quickly got a job working for an advertising agency. I did everything by hand while sitting comfortably at my rather large art board. By the late 80s, rumors began floating that very much startled me and the others I worked with. To be blunt, I was afraid of change. We were going to swap in our art boards and conventional methods of design for brand-spanking new computers. I had absolutely no knowledge of the intimidating gizmos that were supposed to simplify our jobs, and I had no idea how I would adjust. I mean, the way we plodded our trade had been done the same way for thousands of years, with adjustments, of course, but a t-square has been around a long time, for instance. This was going to be one giant change I wasn’t quite ready for, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Besides, I was never one to walk away from a new way of thinking. Think different, after all.

In 1990, I sat in front of my first computer. It was a Macintosh. Wow! This is like playing Space Invaders and I’m getting paid to do it, was my first thought. In other words, while initially apprehensive, I found this new tool to be something I could learn to understand and love, and I quickly warmed up to it. It grew on me. It came with desktop publishing software called Aldus PageMaker, and the newspaper layouts that normally took an hour to create were condensed to about 15-minutes. Those of us who acclimated well became more productive and within a month’s time, I had that computer saying “I’m sorry, Dave, I’m afraid you can’t do that” whenever someone made an error or hit the wrong key. Once I grasped the world of computers, I never looked back. Today marks 21-years of experience in front of a keyboard and I have only one person to thank - Steve Jobs.

While Bill Gates and Microsoft ventured into the fray of consumer-friendly operating systems, meaning personal computers, in 1992, Windows 3.1 was never close to what Apple started in 1984 with the advent of the Mac OS. Mac was the first to use a completely graphical operating system instead of a command line. Remember those days of DOS commands? C:\enter. Macs were a dream, and they weren’t prone to crashing. Mac was completely user friendly and that’s what made my switch from the art board to a computer so smooth. I compared Mac to Windows operating systems as the difference between cutting through soft or hard butter. In those early days, I fell in love with Mac computers and it’s a love that’s never left me.

Today, Mac computers still have the edge in the graphic design business, but Windows has come a long, long way. As stable as Mac OS has been, Windows 7 is just about as good, so why would I continue to give Mac the edge? The answer is simple, because, no matter what, Windows has always played catch-up to Mac. So has the rest of the world, and for that, I give credit to Steve Jobs for what he did with his creation - Apple. From the mouse on up to the iPad, of which I am a proud owner, it was Jobs who had much to do with what we take for granted today. The first smart phone was an Apple. The rest of the tech-world scrambled. That’s what Jobs did. He was a creative genius and a visionary, able to design and market, and if I could only harness 10% of his mind, I would be one, too. That’s not going to happen, so instead, all I can do is say, thank you, Steve. While some things never change, you dramatically changed the world and the way we think. Thank you for making art, design, writing, and every day living easier for me. You were Apple. You were Mac. You dreamed in black, white, shades of gray, and every color in the rainbow.

While the more the world changes, the more it remains the same, I’m glad you got to see the life altering changes you made, and like Thomas Edison, you will live on in perpetuity because of it. And that’s something that will never change.

The convenience of karma and the cancer disconnect

I want to thank everyone for their concern over my health. I came out a victor in Round 1. The bone marrow biopsy showed no cancer in my blood or marrow. Previously, I had been diagnosed with chronic anemia and thrombocytopenia, which is low platelets. Yesterday, a new diagnosis was added to the list… monoclonal gammapathy. That’s abnormal plasma cells in the bone marrow. I will have to learn to live with it. There is a risk, albeit low, that it may develop into cancer one day, but I’ll take that with a smile. Friday, I get the lung biopsy. I was supposed to have it this morning (10/4), but no one told me to stop taking baby aspirin.

There is little understanding about what caused the blood conditions to manifest. They just strike people. At least I can stop worrying about it, although I will have to be checked every 3 months to keep tabs on whether it does turn into cancer, but if so, it could be years down the road.

I really wanted to go to the hearing on Wednesday afternoon — the one concerning the motion WKMG-TV filed that asked the court to release a video recording of Mizzanthony’s shocked and distressed jail house reaction to news that her daughter’s remains were found very near to where she lived. You see, back in 2009, Judge Stan Strickland agreed with the defense that the video would have been too prejudicial to show a jury because it could have negatively affected her right to a fair trial. Consequently, he sealed it. That was then, and now that the trial is over, what harm would it do to release it? After all, the defense openly admitted she knew all along that her child was dead.

WKMG’s attorney, Jack Kirschenbaum, stood toe-to-toe with Jose Baez in court, both arguing in front of Chief Judge Belvin Perry. While Kirschenbaum cited Florida’s open government in the sunshine laws, Baez stuck with his concerns over medical privacy. Perry is expected to render a decision by week’s end, and my educated guess is that he will side with the media. Why? Because administering the defendant a sedative in a waiting room with a TV does not constitute doctor/client privilege. Besides, the issue over the defendant receiving a fair trial is no longer a factor.

One of the reasons I wanted to attend the hearing was to see some of the people I interacted with during the course of the case — countless reporters, deputies, attorneys, and the bevy of courthouse employees and everyday people I got to meet. You know, for old-time’s sake. I had an 11:30 appointment to see my gastroenterologist and I figured I’d have plenty of time to make it to the courthouse by 3:00. Alas, I didn’t leave the doctor’s office until then. The doctor explained, apologetically, that it wasn’t from overbooking as much as it was from the federal government’s new law mandating that all medical offices must be computerized or face stringent penalties. I understand how the learning curve would be difficult for medical personnel of a given age, plus the fact that the software is quite complex and not mastered in a day. In any event, the only outcome of my day was learning that I will have both an endoscopy and a colonoscopy on October 18. Whoopee! Fortunately, I will be sedated.

Since I’m addressing doctors, sedatives, journalists and the court system, I’m going to haphazardly segue into one word that kept creeping up during the course of the whole Anthony ordeal — karma. But before I get into it, I want to apologize for not being all that attentive on my blog of late. For sure, I wanted a lengthy break after the crux of the Anthony mess came tumbling down in July, but it’s pushing October and I feel I owe you a legitimate explanation. I’ll get to that shortly.

Dictionary.com defines karma as “an action, seen as bringing upon oneself inevitable results, good or bad, either in this life or in a reincarnation.” It goes on to mention fate and destiny as descriptors. Unfortunately for some of my readers, I have a real problem with karma. To be quite frank, I just don’t believe in it and I’ll tell you why. Take the case of Mizzanthony. All through the legal process, countless numbers of people were adamant about her karma coming back to “bite her in her azz”, only it didn’t happen that way. Otherwise, she would have been found guilty and sentenced to life or death for murdering her daughter, Caylee Marie. Speaking of Caylee, what did she do to warrant such horrendous karma that she had to die at such a young and innocent age? If karma killed Lee Harvey Oswald, what karma killed JFK?

While karma was a constant theme during the Anthony case, it was only used matter of factly, as a matter of convenience. In other words, when karma failed to get the defendant while incarcerated and tried in open court, it morphed into something else — that karma will get her while she’s out of jail and free. Just move the karma around to suit one’s fancy. Some people actually believe they have power over people by inflicting karma. Take a look at the slugs that attacked me and my friends unmercifully during the past two years. Karma was going to get us because they had ordained it so. In that regard, karma is pitted against karma; the good karma being us and the bad karma being them, although they would stupidly beg to differ. May the best karma win! Caylee’s mother may live to be 90, but karma will catch up to her then? Come on, we all know better than that. Eventually, she will have to meet her maker, and that’s what counts.

Regardless, karma goes against the will of God, at least in the Judeo-Christian sense. I don’t think the Bible puts much faith in reincarnation, for example, and I think it’s safe to say that most of my blog’s readers fall under the auspices of the Judeo-Christian credo and, therefore, karma is a direct conflict with the principles of both books of the Bible, although Job 4:8 (KJV) does state, “Even as I have seen, they that plow iniquity, and sow wickedness, reap the same,” but I’m not about to get all preachy on you. In this particular regard, a simple explanation can be found with one of our contemporaries, Orenthal James Simpson.

While O.J. was acquitted of murdering Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman in 1995, he sits in Lovelock Correctional Center in Nevada until, at least, 2017; sentenced to 33-years for kidnapping and armed robbery in 2008. His first possibility of parole comes in 2017, but don’t count on it. Was it karma that finally caught up with him? Hardly. You see, if you hang around bad people and do bad things, your odds of getting caught multiply tremendously. That’s precisely what happened to OJ, plain and simple. He was responsible for his own undoing because he chose to hang around a bad crowd. He did it to himself, with no help from fate, destiny, karma, kismet, or whatever else you want to call it. He chose his own path.

That leads this article to yours truly and how karma did not come beckoning at my front door. Conveniently, the devil’s rejects who attacked me incessantly during the past two years will rejoice after reading this, but I don’t care. While they are sure I am Satan incarnate, sane people know otherwise. You know me as a caring individual. You know my sensitive side. Understanding human behavior is not in a troll’s vocabulary. For them to compare me to Hitler and Stalin¹, two of the worst people to ever walk the earth, is pure insanity. How anyone could make a comparison like that is beyond the realm of accepted behavior. Well, enough of them and their trashy troll talk.

Everyone who has followed me for the past three years knows that I’ve had a number of health issues, none karma related. Recently, I was able to get some complex blood work done. One of those tests showed an abnormality in my blood protein, specifically, elevated M protein. For years now, my platelets have been quite low, along with RBC, hemoglobin and hematocrit counts. I was diagnosed with thrombocytopenia and chronic anemia years ago. Trust me when I tell you I am not seeking sympathy of any kind, nor am I looking for any sort of hand-out.

I have been seeing a specialist in the field of hematology and oncology. You know, a blood disorder and cancer doctor. I have had x-rays taken of every bone in my body in search of lesions. I have had CT scans and PET scans. I also had an MRI. Why my veins haven’t collapsed by now is beyond me. On Monday, my hematology/oncology doctor performed a bone marrow biopsy on my right hip. Believe me, in my case, it wasn’t nearly as painful as it sounds. While those tests were being performed, something new crept up; something totally unrelated to the problem with my blood. Something that put everything else on hold.

My long-time readers will remember when I was laid up with pneumonia back in December of 2008. It was confined to my right lung, and it’s not at all unusual to recur at any time in the future. Here’s where the karma comes in, or should I say, lack of karma? Some of the recent tests showed “an infiltrate is present within the left upper lobe and the right major fissure thickening.”

What this means is that there is an astute possibility that I have a cancerous tumor in my left lung, as in lung cancer. That’s something no one wants to hear. My doctor said it was large, and the PET result stated it had an “uptake value of 2.7.” The injection I got before the scan contained a radioactive substance and glucose. Cancer cells absorb the material 10-times more than healthy cells, so they light up like Christmas trees. 2.7 is not full-blown cancer like 5.0, but it’s enough to make any doctor sit up and take notice. It’s also the reason why all other health concerns are now on hold. The “major fissure thickening” is the area between lobes, near a vertebra. While that one shows no sign of cancer at this time, it may down the road. Next week, I will be put under a derivative of morphine and Valium, and my left lung will be biopsied. No matter what it is, and I’m fairly certain I know, the growth will most likely be removed after it’s evaluated.

This is just the start of many pokes and probes and possible operations. Trust me when I say it has weighed heavily on my mind, as my close friends and family will attest. Here and now, I am going to explain the matter of karma. I never did anything morally wrong enough for some silly karma to come and get me, despite being bitten in the azz by a biopsy needle. No, this problem has nothing to do with karma. The only thing that matters is the fact that I smoked cigarettes and cigars for nearly 40-years. It was my choice to smoke and no one else’s, and it’s what caused it. (I did quit four years ago.)

When giving my mother the news, I told her the most important part — the only reason why it was found early was because of tests taken for another type of cancer. Had I not had those tests at this time, odds are it wouldn’t have been diagnosed until it was too late. I have no real symptoms and that’s the problem. By the time real symptoms creep up on you, this type of cancer, which is extremely aggressive, has grown arms and legs and spread like wildfire. That’s the main reason why lung cancer has such a high mortality rate.

While I will insist it’s not karma, I will say I do believe in divine intervention, although I’m no authority on it. I think, in my case, it’s what made sure the right tests were performed at the right time — that caught it early enough. At least, that’s what I’m praying. So, if you wonder why I haven’t written much lately, truth be told, I’ll readily admit I’ve rested on my laurels, I can be a great procrastinator, and I have a lazy streak at times. But one thing is certain — there’s a lot on my mind right now that limits my creativity and I shouldn’t be that way. I need to find new stories to write about, but until I do, please bear with me. While I do not believe in karma, I do believe in the power of prayer, and that’s precisely what I am asking you to do. Please keep me in your prayers. That’s all I ask.

And if you smoke, please quit now.

Judge Perry's Order Sounds "Appealing"

In the beginning of September, 2008, the Orange County Sheriff’s Office said that lab tests confirmed that a decomposing body had been in the trunk of George and Cindy Anthony’s 1998 Pontiac Sunfire. “[FBI] laboratory evidence, along with additional evidence that has not been made public, leads investigators to the belief there is a strong probability that Caylee is deceased.”

Sgt. John Allen added that, “The information we’ve gotten back from the lab [was] that she was in the trunk of that car and that she is dead is certainly something we take seriously.”

By September 21, detectives noted that there were still lab tests pending, plus evidence not yet made public. According to OCSO, no homicide-related charges would be filed until they could determine if the child died and her body ended up in the trunk. As a matter of fact, throughout the month of September, it was looking very clear that Caylee was deceased and the odor of death in the trunk of the Pontiac and a combination of forensic evidence would be enough for an Orange County grand jury to indict her mother on First-Degree (Capital) Murder and other charges on October 14, including Aggravated Child Abuse, Aggravated Manslaughter of a Child, and four counts of Providing False Information to a Law Enforcement Officer. 

Certainly, there was plenty of evidence by then to gain convictions as far as the public was concerned, but on July 5 of this year, a jury found the defendant not guilty of the first three felony charges and guilty of the remaining four misdemeanor charges of lying to law enforcement. The public was shocked and outraged. The State Attorney’s Office had put an awful lot of work into this case that took nearly three years to come to an abrupt end. Law enforcement kept plugging away even as the trial unfolded. Everyone on the state’s side wanted nothing more than justice, but during this period, costs spiraled higher and higher it wasn’t until recently that a matter of cost came before the court. Someone’s got to pay for all this labor intensive work, right?

On September 2, 2011, the state filed an “Amended Motion to Tax Special Costs of Investigation and Prosecution and to Reserve Jurisdiction” pursuant to Florida Statute 938.27. The original motion, “State of Florida’s Motion to Tax Special Costs of Investigation and Prosecution and to Reserve Jurisdiction” was filed on July 6, a day after the defendant was acquitted of the felony charges.

The amount the state was requesting was to the tune of $517,000, broken into separate agencies, including the Florida Department of Law Enforcement (FDLE), the Metropolitan Bureau of Investigation (FDLE), the Orange County Sheriff’s Office (OCSO), and last but not least, the State Attorney’s Office.

The state wanted the defendant to pay for the investigation from its inception, on July 15, 2008, when she told authorities her first lie, to December 19, 2008, the date when skeletal remains found a week earlier were positively identified to be those of Caylee Marie Anthony.

On paper, the state’s proposition sounded about right, but it wasn’t, according to the law. There’s no doubt the amount of hours it took to come this far were phenomenal. Who kept lying and lying and lying to police until her attorney put a clamp on her mouth? The fact remains that this whole affair could have ended a long time ago had it not been for her. She would have saved the state, not to mention taxpayers, tons of money had she just told the… [sorry, that word is not in her vocabulary].

I know my opinion on this is not going to be popular, but it follows how Judge Perry ruled today. Allow me to place myself in a situation that may shed a little light on the decision…

Suppose I’m visiting old friends in New Jersey during a specific time period. I rode up with a buddy. During that time someone (allegedly) stole my car and robbed a convenience store in my neighborhood. The perp is bald like me, so when the cops show the store owner my picture, he says, “That’s him!”

My car is impounded and examined, and the only set of prints on it are mine. Meanwhile, I come home to a 24-hour stake-out, and I’m promptly thrown to the ground, handcuffed and arrested. Here’s the deal - my friend is deposed but the cops don’t believe him. The state indicts me. Meanwhile, my friends in NJ are reluctant to testify on my behalf. Unfortunately, some of the evidence makes me look bad because the police find out I had been dating the owner’s daughter and we had a rocky relationship until it finally ended. It turns out the father never liked me to begin with.

Eventually, the case goes to trial, some of my out-of-state friends are subpoenaed, and the jury finds me not guilty. Should I be required to pay for the entire investigation? How about any of it? After all, ultimately, I did nothing wrong. 

There’s the dilemma. Who foots the bill? In my case, it’s fairly cut-and-dry. I was, in no way, involved and the law is on my side. No one should pay money for an ill-fated investigation. How many people a year are charged by overzealous prosecutors? That’s not my point, though.

In this particular defendant’s case, she lead authorities to dead end after dead end. She lied through her teeth and impeded a legitimate investigation. The entire nation prayed that little Caylee would be found alive, while her devious mother laughed behind everyone’s back. She should be forced to pay, right? Well, yes and no.

The investigation into the missing toddler began on July 15, 2008, when Cindy Anthony made her desperate 911 calls. Yes, initially, it was a missing child case, but somewhere along the line, it switched from that to a murder investigation. Caylee was dead. That’s where the impounded Sunfire became so crucial. Sometime in September of 2008, the gears switched from missing to dead.

On September 2, 2011, the judge heard testimony from both sides. The state wanted the charges to encompass a five month period, from July 15 - December 19, 2008. The defense argued that their client was found not guilty of murder, including the other felony charges. How could the court force her to pay for something she was found not guilty of? The defense asked for the final tally to represent July 15 to September 30, a two-and-a-half-month period, because, after that date, investigators were no longer seeking a missing child - they were looking for a deceased one.

The judge agreed. Just like in my case, why should a person be forced to pay for an investigation when the verdict is in the defendant’s favor? If that were the case, police and prosecutors would be charging people left and right for crimes they never committed in order to fill state coffers. As much as Jose Baez’s client is unpopular, the law is the law and Judge Perry had to rule the way he did.

Section 938.27, Florida Statute (2011) provides, in part:

In all criminal and violation-of-probation or community-control cases, convicted [my emphasis] persons are liable for payment of the costs of prosecution, including investigative costs incurred by law enforcement agencies, [etc.] For purposes of this section, “convicted” means a determination of guilt, or of violation of probation or community control, [etc.]

The court shall impose the costs of prosecution and investigation notwithstanding the defendant’s ability to pay. The court shal require the defendant to pay the costs within a specified period or in specified installments.

In his ruling, Judge Perry acknowledged that “there are costs that may be taxed against Defendant because they were reasonably necessary to prove the charges in Counts 4 through 7, for which she was convicted.” Therein lies the crux of the argument. For which she was convicted. You cannot charge any amount of money on not guilty verdicts according to the law, no matter how one may personally feel. The judge had no choice because he had to follow the letter of the law.

While the judge acknowledged that there are no Florida cases dealing with apportioning the costs after a criminal trial when a defendant has been convicted of some charges but acquitted of others, there is some guidance in federal case law “which provides that costs associated exclusively with the prosecution of counts which are discharged cannot be assessed against the defendant.”

“When a statute is clear, courts will not look behind the statute’s plain language for legislative intent.” City of Miami Beach v. Galbut, 626 So. 2d 192, 193 (Fla. 1993), and Holly v. Auld, 450 So. 2d 217, 219 (Fla. 1984).

“A statute’s plain and ordinary meaning must control, unless this leads to an unreasonable result or a result clearly contrary to legislative intent.” State v. Burris, 875 So. 2d 408, 410 (Fla. 2004).

“Cost provisions are a creature of statute and must be carefully construed.” Wolf v. County of Volusia, 703 So. 2d 1033, 1034 (Fla. 1997).

Based on case law, Judge Perry decided that the costs incurred by investigators would be from July 15, 2008 through September 29, 2008. That was the period, he decided, all costs incurred were “reasonably related to the investigative work provided as a result of Defendant providing false information as to the location of her [then missing] daughter, Caylee Anthony, and making other mistrepresentations to law enforcement.”

End of story. We may not like it, but that’s the law and that’s why the judge ruled the way he did. The breakdown of what he granted looks like this:

• FDLE - $61,505.12
• MBI - $10,283.90
• OCSO - $25,837.96 (the Court found that several of the reports were not adequately broken down, and in order to reimburse OCSO for additional work, they must file a revised expense report with the Court by 4:00 PM on September 19. At that point, the order will be amended accordingly.)
• With regard to the costs incurred by the Office of the State Attorney, in accordance with Florida Statute 938.287(8), the State Attorney is entitled to a total amount of $50 for each of the misdemeanor convictions. Grand total? 200 buckeroos. Personally, I think it’s an insult,

All in all, the defendant will have to cough up $97,676.98, not a pittance by any means, but not close to the amount the state requested. How is she going to pay? Oh, I think her attorneys will find the tally quite “appealing”, if you get my drift. Speaking of drift, would we know how to contact Mr. Baez about this? I hear Aruba ta bunita this time of year.

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

On December 3, 2009, I met with Sgt. John Allen at the sheriff’s office on West Colonial Drive. This was in reference to a matter regarding something someone said to me and photographs I was shown that may have been relevant to the investigation. He called me the day before. After I gave him my testimony and filled out a report, we sat around for a few minutes and discussed different aspects of the case. At no time did he reveal anything that would be harmful had I written about it, but I told him I wouldn’t. We spoke on the phone 2-4 times after that, and at one point, he said it was okay for me to write whatever we had discussed. I had a green light, and one thing came to mind. He was emphatic about it, too. Up until the remains were found and identified, over 100 law enforcement personnel never gave up hope of finding Caylee alive. All around the country, investigators continued to follow up on leads. That’s how dedicated they were, and that tells me there’s a gray area the judge should have known about. Whether it can be substantiated, I don’t know, but it is worth considering, in my opinion.