Get Bent

Dura lex sed lex. That’s Latin for “the law is hard, but it is the law.” Such will be a lesson learned by the defense in the courtroom today, I’m afraid.

What was scheduled to be a status hearing has turned into one of greater magnitude, and one that Casey must attend. She hasn’t appeared in court since the July, when her mother and brother took the stand over the admission of Cindy’s 911 calls.

While the status of the case will still be discussed, two defense motions will also be heard, and that will include counter motions filed by the JAC and the Orlando Sentinel. Defense attorney Ann Finnell recently filed a motion that asked Judge Perry to set a cautionary budget for costs she expects to incur to properly represent Casey prior to a sentencing phase; to be prepared if she is convicted of capital murder. The next motion will once again ask the judge to reconsider prior rulings over the public’s right to see Casey’s jail records, including phone calls, visitor logs and commissary purchases.

I don’t want to venture a guess about the money issue. The defense is requesting an additional $12,000 for investigative work on top of the money their mitigation specialist is asking for. This is too tough to guess, so I’ll focus on the issue over the disclosure of certain records.

First off, let’s make it clear that the defense is once again asking for more than the judge needs to give. In the MOTION FOR RECONSIDERATION, the defense cited a recent ruling by the Fourth District Court of Appeal, Bent v. Sun Sentinel, which ruled that jail “audio recordings of the defendants’ phone calls are not public records subject to release.” What this did, in effect, is put a temporary end to releasing phone calls, which are recorded surreptitiously for security reasons. On the other hand, the ruling did not address any jail logs whatsoever. This means who called, when and how long they spoke, are not subject to the ruling.

Right now, Casey has “three Standing Objections of Abuse of Florida Statute Chapter 119.01 complaining of the release of public records,” according to the Orlando Sentinel’s motion. The Sentinel went on to suggest that this defense “essentially asks the Court to shut down the media and the public’s statutory and constitutional right to public information.”

The Sentinel continues to argue that neither the public nor the media “are required to show a legitimate interest or purpose in order to obtain public or judicial records.” Here, I have one slight qualm with the Sentinel’s mention of judicial records. The jail does not fall under the judicial branch, and for that reason alone, the judge cannot rule in favor of the defense. He has made it abundantly clear he holds no power over the legislative branch, which governs this sort of disclosure. Timoney v. Miami Civilian Investigative Panel, 917 So. 2d 885, 886 n.3 (Fla. 3d DCA 2005) stated that “generally, a person’s motive in seeking access to public records is irrelevant.”

Judge Perry has, on more than one occasion, stated that he was not going to reinvent the wheel, meaning he will not rewrite Florida’s Public Records Act, which we recognize as Florida’s Open Government in the Sunshine law. Today, he will rule the same way he has in the past. There is no doubt that jails and prisons in Florida will comply with the Bent v. Sun Sentinel ruling and keep recordings locked up for the time being, but I am certain it will work its way up to the Florida Supreme Court and beyond.

The defense believes that the disclosure of jail records will deny her the right to a fair trial. I disagree and so does the Sentinel. Although I don’t care about Casey and her orders of nachos, I find it hard to believe her phone log, visitor log and commissary purchases would prejudice a jury. Instead, perhaps the defense should halt all post-hearing press conferences and ask the court to place a gag order on this case. The judge might be willing to comply.

§

Veritas vos liberabit! See you in court.

The truth about relativity

During 1960s, one of the mantras of the counterculture was to “never trust anyone over 30.” Civil rights and Berkeley free speech activist Jack Weinberger is widely credited with making that statement. To those of us old enough to remember the days of free love, we also recall turning on, tuning in and dropping out spoken by one of the day’s best known gurus, Timothy Leary. Oh my. To many, our 30s rapidly passed us by with no noticeable trepidation. In many instances, we have not only become our parents, we are rapidly turning into our grandparents.

Today is my father’s 80th birthday. I will be spending the rest of the day with family and only take an occasional look at my computer, if I take it with me.

Early last night, I spoke to my 91-year-old Uncle David, and to put things in a relative perspective, he said, “Gosh… your father’s going to be 80 tomorrow? Oh, I long for he day I could be 80 again.”

You see, my uncle’s mind is as sharp as it was a half-century ago, but his body is catching up with him. To each and every one of us we understand our own relativity, how it impacts our own lives each day and how much it changes with passing time. We are what we make of ourselves.

∞

Casey McDingles

HERE’S WHAT REAL WITNESS TAMPERING IS ALL ABOUT

There is a no-brainer running around like a chicken without its head who insists she knows what witness tampering is all about. She doesn’t, and this will serve to quash any and all rumors she keeps firing into wasted Internet bandwidth. At the same time, it will explain exactly what it is. Merely interviewing someone is not. Suggesting they change the truth most assuredly is.

In reality, two Texas EquuSearch volunteers told WFTV that a private investigator working for the defense tried to manipulate them into changing their stories about what transpired down along Suburban Drive in September of 2008.

Brett Churchill and Brett Reilly have accused PI Jeremiah Lyons of slinging words their way that would cause them to alter their testimony about searching the area where Caylee’s remains were found three months later by Roy Kronk, another defense target.

According to the WFTV report, Lyons was recently in court examining EquuSearch records. The station reports that he’s keeping low key while talking to volunteers who are not very happy about it.

In this case, both volunteers are prosecution witnesses. Churchill has been deposed by the defense and Reilly has talked on record to investigators. Both have stated that the exact area where the toddler was discovered was under water and unsearchable at the time. According to Churchill, Lyons went to his house and lied about Reilly’s story. “He basically was asking me if what I said in my deposition was the exact story because he had others who fared differently, one of them being Brett Reilly.”

Reilly had earlier warned Lyons not to twist his words after witnessing what Casey’s defense had done to others involved in the case. Lyons promised him he wouldn’t.

Let me tell you, from first-hand experience, I know all about what a professional manipulator Jerry Lyons is. They don’t get any slicker, but in my case, the defense ended up with the short end of the stick. What he succeeded in doing was to somewhat change the tenor of this court. It abruptly went from Strickland to stricter. Strickland to stricter… trust me, they will be words that linger.

The report also states that Reilly complained to Cheney Mason and that both volunteers contacted the sheriff’s office.

A DATE WITH CASEY

Great news is coming right up for those who want to see what Casey’s new tooth looks like. She is slated to appear at next week’s hearing, which will be at 1:30 pm on the 29th. It had been scheduled to be a status hearing, but with her attendance announced, it signaled that there would be more to the hearing than just an update from the attorneys. She has not been in court since her mother and brother took the stand back in July. Of course, plain old status hearings don’t require her presence.

What this should mean is that Judge Perry will hear several arguments, two of which should be the simultaneously filed MOTION TO DETERMINE REASONABLE BUDGET FOR DUE PROCESS COSTS IN A CAPITAL CASE AND MOTION TO INCUR CERTAIN SPECIFIED COSTS filed recently by new attorney Ann Finnell, and quite possibly the prior rulings over the public’s access to Casey’s jail records. This would include phone calls, visitor logs and commissary purchases. In my opinion only, I don’t care if she pigs out on nachos or not. I do not need to know how many hair barrettes, hair pins, hair claws, banana hair clips or how many other products she buys, including female doodads. With the latest ruling in south Florida, this information may have to be rerouted through the state and released through document dumps instead of coming directly from the jail. Hopefully, I will know more about that soon.

With regard to the budget request made by Finnell, the funding agency, the JAC (Justice Administration Commission) doesn’t like her cost estimates. The commission filed a response last week that questions some of the estimates as being too high and others that shouldn’t be billed to taxpayers. In a post I published two weeks ago, I wrote:

The distance between Jacksonville and Orlando, from her office to the jail, is 145 miles each way. The distance from her office to Fort Myers is roughly 300 miles. She anticipates at least one trip per month to Orlando and back, and at least two trips to Fort Myers. Overnight lodging is expected for the trips to Fort Myers and some of the trips to Orlando, all of which is feasible. She’s asking for $4,000.00. Let’s see… a round trip from Jax to O’do runs about $134.00. Jax to Ft. Myers would be double that - $268.00. We are 7-8 months away from showtime, so 7-8 Orlando trips would run… let’s give her the benefit of the doubt and say 8 months. 8 trips would cost almost $1,100.00.  To Fort Myers and back twice would add up to around $540, bringing our total to $1,640.00, not including hotel stays, and I think it’s safe to assume she’s not going to spend the night at the No Tell Motel, but still, that’s over $2,400 in lodgings. Nope, that one should be questioned by the judge. If the court chooses to approve, it brings our tally much higher…

The JAC is requesting it shouldn’t have to foot the bill for attorneys’ travel expenses; that the costs should come out of the money the Baez Law Firm was paid by Ms. Anthony or be absorbed by the individual attorney.

Any way we look at it, the mere fact that Casey will be in the courtroom almost demands that some semblance of verbal chicken poop will be flying into the fan come next Friday afternoon. I’m looking forward to it, so I must admit, I will not quit. I will attend, as I intend.

As The World Burns

Brad Benson is the owner of a Hyundai car dealership in South Brunswick, NJ. In 2003, he offered Saddam Hussein a brand spanking new car if he would flee Iraq. That advertising campaign wasn’t successful and he pulled the ad after it ran only two days, replacing it with an apology for any offense that may have been taken by anyone, Muslim or otherwise.

To give you a little background, in the 1980’s, Benson established himself as an offensive lineman for the NY Giants, having played there for 12 seasons. Today, he is better known around the state for running his “Idiot Award” ads, where he’s singled out celebrities like Roger Clemens, Mel Gibson and Lindsay Lohan.

“We don’t have your typical car commercial,” he said, and to be frank, they have been quite effective. Three years ago, he was selling about 60 cars each month. Today, in spite of the present economy, that number has grown to over 500 cars per month.

The following story caught my attention for several reasons. I’m originally from NJ, having spent the first half of my life there, so I have a special connection with the state. Since 1981, I’ve lived in Florida, and this year, I had the opportunity to attend two University of Florida Gator football games thanks to the generosity and hospitality of a wonderful lady. She was born and raised in Gainesville, where the spectacle of pastor Terry Jones was met with great consternation. Jones, if you recall, had threatened to burn thousands of Qurans, the Muslim holy book, on September 11, in protest over plans to build a mosque and Islamic center two blocks away from Ground Zero, in lower Manhattan. Jones was never a fixture in Gainesville, and his self-titled “International Burn a Koran Day” became a conflagration of horrible proportion. He’s a total embarrassment to the sensible inhabitants of the respectable university town, where common sense prevails over opportunistic sensationalism and overzealous preachers of literal biblical translations.

Enter Brad Benson. In the midst of the international debacle,  he offered Terry Jones a new car if he promised to not burn one single Quran. Of course, September 11 came and went and no books were burned, but that was more than likely due to President Barack Obama’s very public urging, along with a phone call from Defense Secretary Robert Gates and a statement by Gen. David Petraeus, head of the U.S. mission in Afghanistan, who said that carrying out the plan would endanger American troops.

“I just didn’t think that was a good thing for our country right now,” Benson said about the Quran burning. Levelheadedness won out and the residents of Gainesville were able to breathe sighs of relief. Jones has since indicated that he will move away from the area, along with his flock from the Dove World Outreach Center. Hallelujah!

Meanwhile, a representative for Jones called Brad Benson’s car dealership to collect the 2011 Hyundai Accent, which retails for $14,200. At first, the dealer thought it was a hoax. “They said unless I was doing false advertising, they would like to arrange to pick up the car,” so he asked for a copy of Jones’s driver’s license. The reverend complied.

Of course, Jones told the Associated Press last Thursday that the offer of a car was not the reason why he chose not to burn the Muslim holy books. He said he hadn’t learned about the deal until after September 11.

Prior to making the determination, Benson asked his radio audience to help him decide whether to honor his promise. Over 2,600 people responded and the vast majority said he needed to keep his word. Views ran the gamut. One person suggested painting the car with verses from the Quran, the Talmud and the King James version of the Bible.

After the feedback, he said he decided to give Jones the car outright because he didn’t want to be connected to anything the pastor decides to do with it. “I don’t want to be involved in the politics of that.”

In the end, Terry Jones said he was not going to profit from the car. “We’re not keeping the car for ourselves.” Instead, he said he plans to donate it to an organization that helps abused Muslim women. Good luck finding one. Although the effort looks good on paper and in the media, it shows how out of touch the preacher is with the world and sharia, where many interpretations of Islamic law “are used to justify cruel punishments such as amputation and stoning as well as unequal treatment of women in inheritance, dress, and independence.”¹

If Jones can’t find an organization, perhaps he can establish one for abused Muslim women. If he does, let’s just pray that no one comes along and burns it to the ground with women, children and Qurans inside. By Muslims. How sad and ironic that would be.

Story collected from AP wire service

Political Raffling

Because I am a writer, I am on mailing lists, including press releases from political parties. Today, I received an e-mail. Lest you think I am going to give out my affiliation here, guess again. It’s no one’s business, but when I receive something in one of my accounts that’s specifically set up for this type of information and it causes me to raise an eyebrow, I do what I like to do: write about it.

Normally, I leave politics off my blog, but this one was a bit surprising. To be fair, the party itself isn’t what attracted me to it. It’s the person who’s carnival barking that did. At first glance, I didn’t think much of it, but after giving it some thought, I really can’t think of a time, in the annals of American politics, that a sitting president has ever offered any sort of sweepstakes with the one and only prize (3 winners) offered being an opportunity to meet him backstage at one of the final campaign stops he will be headlining for the fall mid-term election. I don’t want to think of my president as a carnival barker, but at the same time, it is not my intent to make any kind of political statement over this. I won’t. It is what it is and what you see is what you get. The graphics are mine, but the “Presidential Address” by Barack Obama to his party constituents is real. Incidentally, the message did not come out of the White House. It is being paid for by the Democratic National Committee.

Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Step right up!

 HERE’S HOW TO ORDER!

There are 20 days until the election. I need you to go all in.

People like Senator Barbara Boxer in California, Congresswoman Mary Jo Kilroy in Ohio, and Congressman Patrick Murphy in Pennsylvania — who courageously fought alongside us for change — are facing millions in retaliatory attacks ads from special interests, made possible by a recent Supreme Court decision.

All around the country, members of Congress who stand up for the middle class are being targeted. Special interests hope to replace our allies with candidates who will give tax breaks to the wealthy, exploding our deficits at the expense of the middle class; privatize social security; even eliminate the minimum wage.

That’s why I’m doing all I can, traveling the country over the last critical days of this campaign to support our allies and remind voters of the choice they have in this election. These are the people who stood with us when health reform seemed unlikely, when the banks tried to bully us out of Wall Street reform.

I need you to do all you can as well. Keep organizing, keep talking to your neighbors, and keep donating whatever you can afford.

WILL YOU CHIP IN $3 RIGHT NOW TO HELP WIN THIS FIGHT?

Your donation today will not just help put organizers on the ground, resources in the hands of volunteers, or ads online in these final days of the election. Your donation is a statement — that you and I will not sit back and allow interest groups to buy their way back into power.

And, as Mitch told you earlier this week, your donation will automatically enter you win a trip to Las Vegas to meet me backstage. I’ll be there on October 22nd to stand alongside Nevada Democrats and Harry Reid, one of the best majority leaders the Senate has ever had, who has played a critical role in each of the historic victories you and I have achieved. He’s one of the people we need to fight for.

There are Democrats like Harry all around the country — folks who are under siege because they stood up to the status quo. It’s up to you to give them a chance to keep fighting. And if you don’t do it, nobody will.

I will be out there, making the case with you. And I hope to see you backstage at one of the final, most important, campaign stops I will make this fall.

PLEASE DONATE $3 TO BE AUTOMATICALLY ENTERED TO WIN A TRIP TO LAS VEGAS TO MEET ME BACKSTAGE:

https://donate.barackobama.com/Backstage

Thank you for all you do,

President Barack Obama

P.S. — Making a donation automatically registers you for the sweepstakes. You may also enter the sweepstakes without making a contribution either online or via text message — click here to enter online or here for instructions on how to enter via text message. No minimum contribution is necessary to be registered.

No purchase or contribution necessary to enter. Void where prohibited. You can enter the contest without making a contribution by clicking here. Only U.S. citizens or lawful permanent residents over the age of 18 who are residents of the 50 states or D.C. are eligible to enter. Entries must be received by 11:59 p.m. on 10/15/10. Three winners will receive one round-trip ticket within the continental U.S. to Las Vegas, NV; hotel accommodations for one; and a meeting with President Obama at a rally event on 10/22/10 (approximate combined retail value $1,200.00). Odds of winning depend on number of entries received. Promotion is subject to Official Rules, available here, including restrictions on eligibility.

Paid for by Organizing for America, a project of the Democratic National Committee — 430 South Capitol Street SE, Washington, D.C. 20003. This communication is not authorized by any candidate or candidate’s committee.

Contributions or gifts to the Democratic National Committee are not deductible as charitable contributions for income tax purposes.

Would I like to meet the president? Sure, he’s the president and he seems like a very approachable sort of guy, but that’s not the way I’d prefer doing it. Please let me know what you think. Does this diminish the integrity of the Office of the President of the United States? Or have we reached a point where meeting the president is just like winning a Thanksgiving turkey? Buy a raffle ticket. And who will be spared this November, the turkey or the president?

Barking up the wrong plea?

“I found my daughter’s car today, and it smells like there’s been a dead body in the damn car.”

- Cindy Anthony

You know, I really wanted to title this post, Cryogenic oven-trapping gas chromatography for analysis of volatile organic compounds in body fluids, but it was already taken. Darn those three, K. Watanabe-Suzuki, A. Ishii and O. Suzuki. They left nothing for another man’s creative imagination.

On July 24, 2008, Investigator Mike Vincent of the Orange County Sheriff’s Office sent Oak Ridge National Laboratory a carpet sample from the trunk of Casey’s Pontiac, the one that contained the damn dead pizza with squirrel topping smell. All kidding aside, what tests were performed on the air quality in that trunk was a very serious matter. Whether or not the judge allows the forensic report to be admitted as evidence in the case against Casey is of tantamount importance to both the state and defense, where the life or death of the accused may be in the balance. The judge will have to weigh heavily the type of science it is - something never used in a court of law. Is it truly a valid science or is it junk, as Casey’s defense has implied? To grasp the basic concept of what it is, we must understand it first.

To begin with, there’s nothing quite like real, live witnesses; the ones who will testify in court that the car smelled like death and decomposition. There’s no escaping it. Cindy smelled it, George smelled it, Lee smelled it, and certainly, lots of law enforcement officials running around the Anthony home on July 15, 2008, smelled it, and many of those officials were duly trained in detecting decomposition of the human body. Just like the pungent smell of marijuana, there’s no escaping its uniqueness. Once you smell death, you never forget it. I believe it is in our primordial genes. The very first time it impacts you, you know what it is. No need for an education. No learning curve. No one need tell you what it is. Coupled with the scientific results, it could smell, er, spell doom for Ms. Casey. Even without it, the odor is what it is: decomp. No squirrels or other organic matter was found, lest a few crumbs of dried up pepperoni, if that.

The carpet sample sent in July was not the only thing parceled out. On September 3, Dr. Neal Haskell included air samples from the trunk, paper towels, and a white trash bag, both containing fly pupae. Dr. Haskell is a forensic entomology expert - forensic refers to investigation into the cause of death and entomology refers to insects. He is part of the faculty (Biology Department) at St. Joseph’s College in Rensselaer, Indiana.

According to Oak Ridge, compounds in all the samples were identified by mass spectral library match, which means they were compared against known samples that exist in a library. Without getting too complex, verifications were determined from standards purchased from the Sigma-Aldrich Chemical Company. It’s like comparing samples of anything against a known bank of information pertaining to that subject matter.

The first carpet sample was placed in a sealed metal can. A preliminary analysis was performed by extracting a small amount of air from the can. It was injected into a Hewlett-Packard Gas Chromotagraph/Mass Spectrometer (GC/MS) equipped with a Hewlett-Packard Mass Selective Detector. If this sounds anything like the Turbo Encabulator, it’s not even remotely close. Hewlett-Packard never made one. Alas, only a few compounds were observed in the sample, primarily chloroform, and it became apparent the sample wasn’t strong enough, so it was deemed necessary to increase the sensitivity in order to find a lower abundance of compounds - if they were present at all. According to the report, the technique selected for concentrating the sample was cryogenic trapping, which can improve detection of organic compounds ten-fold. Cryo-trapping is widely used for the analysis of fragrances and odors.

For these analyses, cryo-trapping was performed by injecting air into a short loop of inert stainless-steel tubing connected between the injector of the gas chromatograph and the head of the GC column. The stainless-steel loop was cooled with liquid nitrogen which condensed the organic compounds present in the air sample, while allowing the nitrogen and oxygen to be vented away from the GC/MS. Normal heating of the GC oven during analysis cycle vaporized the condensed organic compounds in the stainless-steel loop and allowed them to traverse through the GC column into the mass spectrometer.¹

If you are not familiar with cryogenics, think of cryonics, which is the “science of using ultra-cold temperature to preserve human life with the intent of restoring good health when technology becomes available to do so,” according to the Alcor Website. Rumor has it that Walt Disney’s head is frozen and kept under the Cinderella Castle at Disney World, here in Orlando, but that’s not true. His whole body is on ice in a hidden chamber beneath Pirates of The Caribbean at Disneyland. Actually, none of that is true. Dearly departed Disney was cremated, head and all, and his ashes rest in Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California. Cryo no more.

Back to the matter at hand…

The carpet sample was removed from the metal can and placed in a Tedlar bag for 2 days at 35 degrees Celsius (C) and allowed to off-gas into the bag. Kind of like a silent, but deadly, if you get my drift. Tedlar bags have many uses in many industries, including air sampling, hazardous waste, and other gas sampling needs.

The report admitted that gasoline was found in the trunk and it was likely a source of significant hydrocarbon interference that caused an overlap with about 41% of the chemicals typically observed in decompositional events. This may wreak havoc on the state’s claims. The defense will jump on this like flies on… flypaper. Of the 51 chemicals identified on the carpet sample from Casey’s vehicle, 80% were consistent with decompositional events. A mere 17 of the 51 overlapped with known or possible gasoline constituents, leaving 24 compounds - 59% - associated with decomposing human remains potentially unaccounted for. In other words, there was no other way to explain their existence, such as pepperoni. There are lots more examples in the report, but to go into every aspect would be boring and quite tormenting. Suffice it to say that in its conclusion, the report summed up things nicely.

What the lab determined was that odor from early decomposition was present, including “an unusually large concentration of chloroform - far greater than what is typically seen in human decomposition.” There was also an increased level of sulfur containing compounds found, which are “particularly characteristic of decompositional events.” Certainly, of particular interest to the defense is the report’s conclusion that the possibility exists there could be a variety of products that could have contributed to the overall chemical signature.

How much credence should we, as untrained laymen, put into the Oak Ridge report? Laywomen, too. No discrimination intended or implied. Our opinions won’t count in court, but it makes for great discussion. What we may lose sight of are the lab tests conducted for OCSO because we keep wishing upon a star that Casey will be found guilty, so we sometimes skew the results. To be frank, we’re not even into what the defense experts will bring into battle, but we do have another report at our fingertips; the findings of Michael E. Sigman, Ph.D., Assistant Director for Physical Evidence at the National Center for Forensic Science on the campus of the University of Central Florida, right in Casey’s backyard.

Here is a list of what was analyzed and reported in Air Analysis Results: Caylee Anthony Missing Child Investigation²:

Some samples were not tested at NCFS, but an interpretation of the findings stated that“… dimethyl disulfide, tetrachloroethene  and Chloroform are known to be liberated from decomposition of human remains. These three compounds were not found in a representative gasoline sample in the NCFS database. Dimethyl disulfide occurs naturally in cabbage and onion.” Was that pizza ordered with onions and pepperoni? “Tetrachloroethene is used in dry cleaning and may be used in spot removers. Chloroform may be used as a degreaser and may be formed through the reaction of chlorine bleach with some organic chemicals.”

What Dr. Sigman concluded was that the presense of dimethyl disulfide, tetrachloroethene and chloroform did not conclusively demonstrate that human decomp was present in the trunk. There were too many other possible sources. 

These were the findings of Oak Ridge and NCFS, and not my opinion. In other words, I have no dog in this fight other than a cause similar to everyone else that’s compassionate about this case and looking for complete and final justice for Caylee. Speaking of dogs, though, the defense is going to look into all of this in a lot more depth and try to convince the jury a machine could never replace a canine nose. Therefore, it’s inconclusive. On the other hand, didn’t a dog also hit on human decompostion in that trunk? How is defense attorney Dorothy Clay Sims, a specialist in medical-expert witness cross-examinations, going to bark back at a dog?

I recommend reading Air science could be used for first time ever in Anthony case by Anthony Colarossi, Orlando Sentinel, October 8, 2010.

Well worth losing sleep over

FRIDAY

Last Friday evening, it rained. Of course, living in Florida, it can storm at a moment’s notice, bringing with it the wrath of rumbling thunder and lightning. Anyone who reads my blog understands that I take an Internet time out from 7:00 pm to 7:30 pm Monday through Friday to watch Jeopardy. Last Friday was no different until, suddenly, in the middle of the Double Jeopardy round and without warning, an intensely brilliant white light burst through the living room window, accompanied by an immediate explosion of sound, louder than anything I’d heard before. CRACK! In that split second, it was gone, and so was our electricity. Within minutes, power returned, but no cable. After the box rebooted, the living room TV cranked back up, but my show was over. Darn, I missed Final Jeopardy.

As sudden as the surge was, I quickly jumped to my feet to peer out the front window because I smelled electricity in the air. Sure enough, a wire was down in the front yard and it was hissing and spitting and reeling like a lithe snake in the dead of night, emitting an eerie orange glow that pierced the night air and glistened on the drops of rain that continued to fall. I walked to the phone to call 911, but there was no dial tone. We had switched to all cable only months earlier, so the phone and Internet were out-of-order. How funny, I thought, because the living room TV was working fine. I took out my cell phone and called to report the incident. Then, I called the cable company and the tech said the modem box that controls the phone and Internet was sending him no signal. Modem fried. The soonest anyone could come would be next Tuesday. To someone with a blog, that’s like… forever! Oh well, back to the matter at hand. I knew I would have the Internet the next day - for a few hours, at least.

Within minutes, the fire company arrived. There was no way I was going to set foot out there and risk a deathly jolt from the wet ground that lay ahead. As the fire/emergency crew assessed the situation, the power went off and off it stayed. The hissing line was dead in the water. Situation under control.

One of the things we know from living in the lightning capital of the world is to be ready, so a battery operated camping light alloted enough brightness for us to move around inside the house. Without power, the air conditioning wasn’t working, either, and it didn’t take long to warm up. After about 45 minutes, I decided to take a walk outside and scope the place out. I walked over to the power company truck and asked the driver when he expected it to come back on. Of course, he could only guess. He was awaiting another truck bringing someone to do the work. His job was to take a look and report. That’s after 27 years with the utility, he said. No more fixing lines. The younger ones do that now. One neighborhood child came by and asked the same question, but by that time we had already moved on to other topics. There was nothing any of us could do but wait. The driver and I talked for about an hour, until it was time for me to take my nightly insulin shot. He told me about some of his experiences with the company and how cutbacks have really streamlined things, but hadn’t made things better. It was more work, in other words, but with that came more hours and more pay. Not so bad, then. Not bad at all for a man in his fifties. I told him I write about the Anthony case. Interestingly, he was quite fascinated by it and he began asking questions like if she did it. He said his best friend’s son went to high school with her.

Someone drove by and stopped to ask what happened. He said he was heading up to the bar on the corner, G’s Lounge. The utility guy said, good luck, the power’s out there, too. He said that under normal conditions, it takes three surges to the substation to shut power off. In this particular case, after the third time, power remained on and he had to manually turn it off. I guess it fused something together. This took out a good part of the neighborhood. I asked him how many volts were in that downed wire.

“7200,” he responded.

Wow, that’s a lot of juice. We turned back to the Anthony case. I said that had I been many years younger and met her in a bar, I’d find her quite attractive, which is what your friend’s son must have thought. Of course, this would mean PRIOR to any murder. He agreed, but then he told me he asked the son if he had ever hit on her. Did he ever do anything with her? No, the son said. “She was passed around too much in high school. Everyone had her.”

That was an interesting observation and one that I wouldn’t ordinarily expect, but there are many surprises when it comes to this case. Of course, in a court of law, that would be hearsay and therefore, inadmissible, so take it the way you want, but it was a statement just the same.  Had it not been for the strike that burned a hole in the ground, I wouldn’t have known.

After a good conversation about other things, it was time to go inside. I wished him well and said good night. I went into the house and tried to sleep, but only lightly dozed until, just after midnight, the power returned and the cool, dry blast of the air conditioner fanned across my hot skin. Relief! Good, because I had a football game to go to and I wanted to be as refreshed as possible. Despite the lack of sleep, I woke up feeling fine. There was a big day ahead!

SATURDAY

Weeks earlier, I had published a 2-part series that began with Gainesville serial killer Danny Rolling, When karma strikes twice, and finished with John Huggins, Slowly, the wiles of justice churn. In the Huggins case, Jeff Ashton was one of the prosecutors and Chief Judge Belvin Perry presided. Of course, people like to comment and that’s where a lot of thought goes on. It brings my blog to life! During those ensuing comments, a dear reader and contributor, Nika1, offered to take me to a football game, the one against Kentucky, to be precise, and I took her up on that offer. She lives in Gainesville and told me about the wall in memory of those slain by Rolling in 1990.

In back-and-forth e-mails to-and-from my now defunct account, we set the trip up and finished it with a phone call. I didn’t want to drive my car that distance. She suggested taking the Red Coach. The Red Coach? I had never heard of it, but I took a good look. How could I not? It’s first-class all the way, with wide leather seats that fold down almost into a bed. There’s a movie, and wi-fi, to boot. The best part? It’s only $15 each way. Heck, it would probably cost me $20 in gas anyway. All I had to do was drive down to the airport and park. For free.

While waiting to board, riders were dropped off from Miami. I spoke to one gentleman from Ocala who knows the Brantley family, football players all. John Brantley IV is the Gator quarterback. It was nice to learn a little more background before the game.

Off we went! I brought my computer along to catch up on e-mails and comments, but alas, the wi-fi was not working. I tried to sleep a little, but Nancy Drew was blaring from the speaker above me. Our movie du jour.

When the bus arrived in Gainesville, Nika1 was waiting. I knew, as soon as I saw her, that she was my blogging friend and not there for anyone else. I got out and we lightly embraced. Aaaah, such a warm and friendly greeting! We walked over to her vehicle and stowed my belongings. I must tell you that sitting on the front passenger seat were a Gator t-shirt and hat, both brand new. Without hesitation, I took my shirt off in the parking lot to the delight of no one, but I was in Gator country, by golly, and I’m a Gator.

Off we went!

People were everywhere, all dressed in orange and blue, the university’s colors. Young, old, and everything in between, wore nothing else. We parked and took a walk to one of the book stores. The aromas of tailgating barbecues wafted in the air. The book store was a sort of mall with two food courts. We were hungry and it was time to eat. The bus left at 12:30 and arrived just before 3:00. The game wasn’t set to begin until 7:00, so there was plenty of time to kill. I’ll tell you, by the time the day was over, we must have walked 10 miles, but it did me a lot of good. As we milled around the campus, which is vast, she pointed out things of importance.

Tim Tebow is one classy act. That’s all I need to say about him. He’s above the rest, but he’d never admit it. Inside this building sits the NCAA Championship trophy. I saw it through a window. Game day, it’s locked up tight. Too many people.

There were plenty of sites to see and Nika1 was thrilled to show me everything. I had been to a number of games in the past, but not for years, and it was only to go up, see the game, and return home. This was a much more personal look, and I was eager to see as much as I could.

Soon, it would be time for the Gator Walk, where the football players, coaches and trainers walk down the street and into the massive stadium. It’s almost like a parade.

Cheerleaders chanted, to the excitement of the awaiting crowd…

One more…

Oh, heck… just one more…

It was at this time I turned to Nika1 and told her I will now admit I’m getting old. You see, each one of those girls looked, to me, to be no more than high school age. I couldn’t look at them as anything more than children. Time to move on…

The Gator Walk was about to begin!

We stood alongside a Gainesville police officer. He was one of the friendliest guys you’d ever want to meet. He said the motorcycle cop seen here, front and left, was hit by a car last year at a game and broke his left arm. I remember reading about it in the Sentinel or online. Nika1 had told me about how security was so beefed up for the game two weeks earlier against USF. The crazy preacher was going to burn Qurans and the stadium was an easy terrorist target. Fortunately, the threat abated and nothing happened, but 400 extra FBI and other federal/state officers were on hand. Good thing, too, because she said it was so brutally hot, people were dropping like flies. The extra security came to the rescue. She asked our friendly officer how he survived the heat. He said he prepares himself the night before by drinking lots of pickle juice. Pickle juice?!Yes, he learned it years ago as a boy growing up on a Gainesville area farm. Fascinating!

Along came the entourage…

Here they come! Nika1 told me head coach Urban Meyer makes his players wear a clean shirt and tie to the game. It instills discipline and shows respect.

If you look to your right in the above picture, you’ll spot Urban, also sporting a tie.

We still had over an hour to go before the doors opened, but we made the best of our time. There was plenty to do, believe me. A lot of vendors are set up all around the stadium. One is the insurance company, Nationwide, handing out small towels to dip in a trough filled with ice and water. You dab your hot face and neck to help stay cool. Fortunately, this was a night game and it wasn’t as hot as a day game.

Finally, we were let in. When I arrived at the bus station and we drove away, I noticed her drawl, but wasn’t completely sure where she was from. Why, right here in Gainesville, born and raised. Aha! At the game, she said she has been a season ticket holder for 36 years. That’s a dedicated Gator! She knew the people who sat around us, obviously, and before the game began, her niece and nephew arrived with their young daughter. They were just as welcoming.

Here’s the view from where we sat. Trust me, there’s no such thing as a bad seat and these were just perfect.

The game was going to begin soon and I came to watch. There’s a lot of history in The Swamp.

I took no pictures of the game. I wanted to see everything with my eyes, not through a camera lens.

It was a thrilling game. The Gators scored first and went on to win 48-14. The announced crowd was over 90,000 people. I had a wonderful and memorable trip, but there was one sad note. When the third quarter ends, it’s tradition to stand and sing together, We are the Boys from Old Florida. It’s sort of like the seventh-inning stretch, only college football. Then, the final quarter began. Within a minute after the song ended and play began, someone collapsed about 4 or 5 rows above and to the left of us. All I could see was someone frantically performing CPR on a person laid out on the bench. I never did see the gentleman. Police officers situated in close proximity jumped into action. Within minutes, a uniformed paramedic arrived and he was taken out. Everyone kept turning to look at the game and what was going on with him. When one officer passed by me, I asked how things had gone. Not so well, he answered. I asked him how old the guy was. He said very old. The officer was probably in his late 30s. When it was quite obvious the Gators had a lock on the game, Nika1 said we should probably leave before the crowd. I agreed, but on the way out, I stopped and asked another officer. I was concerned about the poor man. This officer was about my age. How old was the guy, I asked him. Oh, in his late 50s, early 60s. I guess age is relative depending on who you ask. He said it didn’t look good. The man was not breathing and his heart had stopped.

I want to take a moment to remember Jerry Lee McGriff, of Starke. A true-blue Gator fan, he died watching his beloved team. My sympathies go out to his family and friends. You can read more here.

SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY

When Nika1 and I were enjoying our pre-game lunch together - a lunch, I might add, she refused to let me buy - I mentioned that she must be a very trusting soul. Here I was, a virtual stranger, and she was ready and ever so willing to open her arms in friendship. She even offered me a place to sleep for a few hours until the bus returned at 3:30 am to take me home. She admitted that she is a very trusting person and always has been, but she also said she pretty much knew what sort of character I was from my writing. That’s a nice thing to know, that people trust me. I am harmless, after all, but it goes deeper than that. While Gainesville is a University city with a college, small-town feel, Nika1 exuded friendship and I was welcomed from the moment I stepped off that bus until I left to return to Orlando.

She lives in a very rural town south of Gainesville, and not far from Cross Creek, home of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. No? The name doesn’t ring a bell? Yes, it does. She was an author who won a Pulitzer for writing a book, The Yearling. Perhaps, you’ve heard of it.

There’s something inherently romantic about the deep south. That’s why my best friend Stewart and I like to take road trips. Over the many years of living in Florida, I’ve grown to love and admire the pockets of land still left that are truly remnants of Old Florida. Where Nika1 lives is just such a place. It’s something you can’t really explain. Although her house was built in the late 1800s, it’s more of a feeling and you know it when you’re there. It is a step back into a time when post cards and billboards didn’t exist. No roadside attractions. Citrus groves and cattle ranches abounded and you kicked your feet up on the front porch of your homestead at the end of a long day. Along with that is the southern hospitality we’ve all heard about. Nika1 is the embodiment of that, pure and simple. Not only did I have a bed to put my weary feet and head on, she had two books for me to take home, BEYOND THE BODY FARM and DEATH’S ACRE, both written by Dr. Bill Bass and Jon Jefferson. Tucked into one of those books were two tickets to the Gator’s homecoming game against Mississippi State, a game she can’t attend.

When I awoke after a couple of hours sleep, freshly brewed coffee awaited me, along with two breakfast sausage crescents, a banana, an orange juice and a bottle of water for the ride back.

While sitting at the bus stop in the dead of morning, we talked once more about the Rolling murders. She has a real sense of history. She said that the poor girl whose head was separated and posed on a bookshelf was an intern with the Gainesville police department. It was so sickening, seven officers left their jobs after they saw her. You may find it to be an odd thing to discuss, but at just after 3:00 am sitting in a parking lot, you keep your doors locked. So does the whole town because of people like him.

Yup, life is a lot simpler in the land where Nika1 lives. It’s too bad, but even there, she’s got to lock her doors at night.

I rolled into town about a quarter to six. I had practically missed a whole night of sleep, but it was well, well worth it. What better way to lose sleep than over a Gator game spent with a lovely person, surrounded by a cast of thousands? Nika1? I may have just met you, but I feel like we’ve known each other for years.

Tonight, the Gators face #1 ranked Alabama. Good thing it’s a home game, but still, this one scares me. Thank you, Nika1, for everything. Something tells me I know exactly where you are right now, and your TV is already warmed up and ready to go.

Tell the Lord Bugsy says hi

Every year at the Hardcore Car & Truck Club show held in Orlando, the crew puts on a memorial honoring one of their most dedicated members, Larry Neal Oliver. On November 24, 1995, the then 22-year-old was killed by thieves who stole his prized possession - his truck.  The annual event reminds everyone that, although he is now gone, he is certainly not forgotten. He lives on in the hearts and minds of his friends and family.

In February of 1998, Jermaine “Bugsy” Lebron was convicted of armed robbery and the first-degree murder of Oliver. I remember this crime distinctly.

Oliver was lured to a house in Osceola County, where Lebron and several others lived. Lebron offered to sell him some “spinners” for his truck. Spinners are hubcaps that spin independently inside of a wheel when the vehicle is in motion and they continue to spin once the vehicle stops. Shortly after Oliver arrived at the house, Lebron called him back to the bedroom area. As he entered the hallway leading to the rooms, Lebron forced him to lie face-down on the floor and then shot him at close range in the back of his head with a sawed-off shotgun, which he called “Betsy.” Although no one actually watched LeBron fire his weapon, they heard it. After Oliver was shot, he was all smiles and laughter, shouting, “I did it, I did it!”

He also described how it felt to kill the victim and what the victim looked like afterward. Oliver’s cash, checks and a credit card were taken from him, and the stereo was stripped from his truck. Lebron then told his roommates to burn Oliver’s ID papers, dispose of his body, and clean the area where he had been murdered. An attempt was also made to burn the truck.

Larry Neal Oliver’s body was later found in a rural area not far from Walt Disney World property, covered with a blanket and some shrubs, but it was still visible from the road.

During the time of the murder, Lebron admitted to his former girlfriend, Danita Sullivan, that he had killed a man. He later told his (then) current girlfriend, Christina Charbonier, the same thing - that he had shot a man for his truck.

Shortly after the murder, Jermaine Lebron high-tailed it to New York City, where his mother owned strip clubs, one a juice bar named Legz Diamond. He was eventually picked up by NYPD, but just prior to leaving the Kissimmee area, he, along with two other people, robbed a limousine driver. They zapped him with a stun gun, took him out to an orange grove and tried to kill him. As Lebron held “Betsy” to the man’s head, he said, “Tell the Lord Bugsy says hi.”

The gun misfired, affording the victim the opportunity to dart into the orange grove and to safety. He was so frightened by the experience, he fled the country and refused to show up for the trial.

Without going into more detail, there is no doubt Jermaine Lebron is one super bad dude. For the murder of Larry Neal Oliver, he was given the death penalty and after several appeals, the sentence still stands. What you may find most compelling about this case is that the Assistant State Attorney was none other than Jeff Ashton. The judge who sentenced him to death? Well, it was none other than Belvin Perry, Jr., who declared LeBron unfit to live. “Jermaine LeBron,” Perry said, “you have not only forfeited your right to dwell among us as a free man, but under the laws of the state of Florida, you have forfeited your right to live at all.”

Hey Bugsy! Tell the Lord I said hello!

See: Florida Capital Cases DC#472846

Pie in the sky?

The term “pie in the sky” originally meant to be a promise of heaven while continuing to suffer through living in the material world. It was coined by Joe Hill in a song written by him in 1911. Joe was a Swedish-born itinerant laborer who migrated to the United States in 1902. The Web site The Phrase Finder described his songs as radical as he fought for labor organizations. “The phrase appeared first in Hill’s ‘The Preacher and the Slave’, which parodied the Salvation Army hymn ‘In the Sweet Bye and Bye’. The song, which criticized the Army’s theology and philosophy, specifically their concentration on the salvation of souls rather than the feeding of the hungry, was popular when first recorded and remained so for some years.”

You will eat, bye and bye,
In that glorious land above the sky;
Work and pray, live on hay,
You’ll get pie in the sky when you die.

Today, pie in the sky can allude to many things, such as asking for more than you end up with or expect, for that matter. You may ask for the sky and end up with pie, which is better than nothing. It reminds me of an experience I had while selling advertising for a newspaper many years ago. Ed Mack, now gone, was the editor. He was also a member of the Rotary, the Chamber of Commerce and very active in the Hunterdon County YMCA, volunteering many hours of his personal time.

Ed and I got along great. A wall about 7 feet high is all that separated the editorial department from advertising and my desk sat closest to the line of demarcation. The ceiling was high, so we could hear each other as one side got stories and the other sold ads.

One afternoon, Ed came over to my side with an idea. Bear in mind, in the world of newspapers, in particular, a common argument prevailed and it probably still does to this very day. The Advertising Department pays the salaries, we’d cry, while the Editorial Department would adamantly point out that its news that sells a newspaper and without news, there would be no newspaper. In the end, those key points were muted by the mere fact that, either way, we had jobs, and that’s what mattered most. Today, it’s not so easy.

Ed knew that I was a member of the now defunct Flemington Area Jaycees. On this particular afternoon, he wanted to know if I could get a band of fellow Jaycees together to man phones at the telephone company, which had already given its permission to do so. It was a simple request. The intent was to ask for donations from members of the Y and the general population in order to build the first installment of a large complex that was in the works, an Olympic-sized swimming pool to the tune of $150,000. He knew I was an officer of the club and, with mild coaxing, that I could easily table the idea at our next meeting. Sure thing, I said, and to fast forward, about 8 or 9 of us showed up to sit in open booths at the phone company the following month. Ed was the man in charge and he gave us stacks of 3” x 5” filing cards with the names, addresses and phone numbers of potential donors. My close friend, Frank Foran, was and still is a top-notch sales rep, and he was in fitting form for the occasion.

Of course, we all focused on the cards we had. Initially, I called people and introduced myself as a member of the Flemington Jaycees and that we were proudly supporting the YMCA in their effort to bring our area a large and highly professional educational and recreational sports facility. We all know the Y. All of Hunterdon County would shine because of it. Perhaps you saw it written up in the newspaper? Oh, yes, of course you did. Well, the first leg is the swimming pool and we need to raise $150,000. Could you please help out by donating $50 toward our goal? No? How about $25? No? Yes, I understand times are tough. [Gee, that was back in the late 70s.] OK, well, thank you, and if you can ever help, please call me at the newspaper and I will make sure you are contacted by the right people. That meant Ed, whose office was a mere stone’s throw away from my desk.

After about a half-dozen disappointing phone calls begging for money, I got zero results and I thought about it. I had to change my tune or I would end up a major flop to the man who was directly under the publisher, my employer. This wouldn’t sit well with Bengt Gaterud, the sales manager, either. I rewrote some of the lyrics. I had my eye in the sky for pie in the sky.

Hi, I said, as I gave the same opening spiel with the hundred-and-fifty grand price tag. There was no need to change that, but when they asked me how much I was expecting them to give, it wasn’t $25 or $50 I requested. Instead, I asked for $2,000. Yes, $2,000 would be great. Of course, they exploded with raw emotion.

“Two thousand dollars?!!! You gotta be nuts! I can’t afford anything like that!”

“OK, how about a thousand?”

“You gotta be kidding me?”

“No, I’m serious. How about fifty?

“Fifty, you got it.”

And with that change in tactics - the rapid-fire subtle suggestions, I ended up making the second-most money of the night and it was a huge success. Of course, Frank made the most, and no one expected less from him. He’s that good.

The next morning, Ed and I purposely crossed paths. He thanked me and the fellow Jaycees. I asked him how well we did. He said it was huge, a lot more than he figured. He told me one other thing.

“I don’t know what you did, Dave, but I gave you a list of deadbeats. I didn’t expect you to make any money at all, but you came in second. I gave you that list because you are a salesperson for this newspaper. I wanted to see what you had in you. You really surprised me.”

OK, now you may think I’m strutting my stuff, but I’m not. As long as I’ve known Frank, he’s encouraged me to go into sales. When he’s 95-years-old and I’m 90, I can hear him in his decrepid, soft and gravelly voice, “Dave, you need to go into sales.”

I never will. I’ve found my niche; it’s writing, and there’s a point to my story - the case against Casey. I constantly hear from people who think she deserves the death penalty, but won’t get it. Some people think she should get life without parole so she can live out her days in prison, wallowing in the memories of her precious daughter and what she, herself, could have become in life. Some people don’t think she’s guilty of murder, but none of that is my point. To use the old cliché and cut to the chase, the state has requested the death penalty. Does the state seriously intend to execute her? You bet, or it wouldn’t have been placed on the table to begin with. This ain’t no dress rehearsal, as my old friend Tom Corkhill always said. This is the real deal, only there is a ‘what if’ formula here, just in case. Because of the death penalty, the jury must be made up of people willing to sentence a person to death. It doesn’t automatically mean they will, but means they might be more prone to finding her guilty. The odds increase exponentially with a death qualified jury and the state knows it. There’s the sky, but will the aim be too high?

In the end, the defense is going to put on a much better show than originally anticipated by us, the general public. Perhaps, in all their seasoned wisdom, the state knew that as time went on in the sweet by and by, things would get tougher. Today, with the recent addition of several more well-seasoned defense attorneys, please allow me one more cliché. I think that, from now on, this is not going to be a piece of cake for the state.

Baez team announces new attorneys

The Baez Law Firm announced last week that Dorothy Clay Sims, an attorney specializing in cross-examining medical expert witnesses, had joined Casey Anthony’s defense team pro bono.  She specializes in debunking junk science and cross-examining medical experts. She is a founding partner of the law firm Sims & Stakenborg in Ocala, Florida and was the first woman chair of the Worker’s Compensation Section of the Florida Bar. Orlando attorney William Jay, who represents Anthony Lazzaro, said that she has been known to anger forensic experts.

At a press conference this morning, Sims said she hasn’t owned a television in more than ten years and has kept herself up-to-date with the case through the Internet.

Also at this morning’s press conference, Jose Baez announced the addition of two new pro bono attorneys, one to handle her civil case, and the other to help challenge the state’s demand for the death penalty.

Civil attorney Charles M. Greene, of The Law Offices of Charles M. Greene, P.A. replaces Jonathan Kasen, who had been representing Casey in the civil lawsuit filed by Zenaida Gonzalez through attorney John Morgan, of Morgan & Morgan. Greene specializes in a variety of civil and criminal legal areas, including criminal defense, civil litigation, trial practice and product liability.

Ann E. Finnell graduated from Duke University and the University of Florida School of Law. According to her Web site, she “has handled homicide and death penalty cases since 1981.  She specializes in complex homicide litigation including death penalty mitigation.  In addition, she has tried serious felony cases including second degree murder and manslaughter cases, capital sexual battery, and other sexual battery cases, kidnapping, armed robbery, armed burglary and violent personal crimes.”

She was featured in a 2002 documentary that won an Oscar. The film, Murder on a Sunday Morning, chronicled the successful defense of young man falsely charged of murder. She is very experienced. Baez noted that she will serve as the defense team’s death penalty expert. “Her experience is second to none,” he noted this morning.

Casey Anthony’s defense is filling up with distinguished attorneys. No matter how dumb anyone thinks Jose Baez and Cheney Mason are, they know how to surround themselves with smart lawyers who specialize in areas where they need the most help. I wouldn’t call those stupid moves. Not in the least.

Here’s some food for thought. It’s not the same as the Anthony case, but it illustrates how trials sometimes work. Originally, there was speculation that Miami attorney Roy Black would be joining the team. That turned out to be nothing more than a rumor, but in the criminal evidence workshop he runs at the University of Miami School of Law, he likes to cite a favorite example of a courtroom experience from some 50-plus years ago. An attorney was representing a murder suspect in a case where no body was found. He announced to the jury that the victim would be walking through the courtroom door at that very moment. When the jury turned to look, the attorney said that their turning proved reasonable doubt existed. Without missing a beat, the prosecutor stood up and replied that it was a cute trick, but while everyone turned to look, “I turned to look at the defendant, and he never turned around, because he knew she was dead.” [See Florida Superlawyers, Roy Black Bio]

Does that sound like banter that could come from a particular defense attorney and prosecutor in this case?

A Portrait of War

There isn’t a day that goes by where the thundering echoes of war escape us. Today, we live in a world filled with radical extremists, defiantly justified to maim and kill in the name of their god. The following story is my hideous wake-up call. It came at a time when wars were fought over more mundane causes - patriotism, democracy, communism, bigotry and territorial rights. This was back when building a bigger, better, bomb was all the rage and nations proudly strutted their hardware in a show of strength and unity in order to intimidate their neighbors and enemies. Today, they just strap on a vest and blow themselves up.

On a distant morning of 1967, one of my classmates was quietly asked to get up from his desk and follow the administrator out of the room. I remember that day and wondering why. Did he do something wrong? It didn’t take very long before the school principal came on the P.A. system to announce that his uncle, Van Dyke Manners, was killed in action in Vietnam. He was one of the first from Hunterdon County, New Jersey to die in the line of duty. I didn’t know him personally, but I remember it well because it was a solemn day. My friend had lost a loved one. Greg did not come back to class that week. To a 14-year-old, those echoes of war were a distant sound that lightly flickered in our young minds. We never thought of death then. We were invincible, but with each passing day, the reverberation grew louder and louder, and reality hit us fast and hard. The Vietnam War was in full boom.

Back then, what was going on in our own back yards seemed more important than anything else, but the Vietnam war was lurking out there. Despite our youthful dreams and aspirations, the war never escaped us. We saw it on our black & white televisions. We heard it on our AM radios. It made headlines in the daily newspapers. Everywhere we went, the specter loomed large and it cut deeply into our subconscious minds.

Early in 1968, a girl who lived up the street from me asked if I would be interested in creating a portrait of her boyfriend. Back in those days, a small town was just that. Windows were left open because air conditioning was a luxury. Doors were left unlocked, and neighbors knew all the gossip. I was known as the left-handed artistic kid. Ask Dave. He knows how to draw.

She was a little older than me, and her boyfriend had enlisted in the Army. She offered to pay me and I accepted. I asked her to round up whatever photographs she could so I had something to work with. I asked her if I could meet him. To an artist, it’s good to know something about a subject that photographs can’t tell you. Because of that request, I got to know Mike Baldwin. At 21, he was a man. At 15, I was not. He was old and mature. I was still a kid. He shaved, I didn’t. With a war going on, I was in no hurry to buy my first razor.

His girlfriend asked me to draw the portrait as big as I could. When I went to the store to buy materials, my old “Be Prepared” Boy Scout lessons taught me to have a back-up plan, so I purchased two poster boards, just in case I messed up. I couldn’t just go to the store back then when I was too young to drive.  Well, I didn’t mess up, so I had a blank sheet and decided to draw another one, identical to the first. Buy one, get one free. I don’t know what compelled me to do it, but I’m glad I did. Maybe I thought if the relationship didn’t work out years later, at least he would have one to share with his family. That must have been the reason. Maybe the death of Van Dyke put apprehension in my heart. You know, one for his mother, just in case.

When I finished my work, I made a date to deliver the artwork. My neighbor had invited Mike and his mother to “attend” the presentation. Everyone was very pleased with the job I had done, especially his mother, who was honored to have her son’s portrait captured by a local artist.

Soon afterward, he left for Vietnam. He went because he believed in a cause. He believed in America and freedom. In school, we were taught about the Domino Effect. Red China didn’t exist on any of our maps and globes. It was just a grayed out mass of nonexistent land. Call it Peking duck and cover. Back then, it was a theory that if any country fell under the influence of communism, then the surrounding countries would follow. North Vietnam was one of those countries. South Vietnam was not. Today, it is one country, but back then, 58,000 red-blooded Americans gave up their lives. Michael Baldwin was one of them.

43 years ago today, he became a statistic. His body was zipped up in a bag and shipped home. That was the day I awoke to the tragedy of war. It was my first real experience with the horrors of conflict and someone I knew was dead because of it. 

One of the things I learned, and it’s very important, was that Michael Baldwin put his country before his life. We lost so many and what did we gain? I know I gained a whole lot of respect for our fellow citizens who march off to fight. He was a man and I was a boy back then, but I still look up to him and I am now 41 years older than he was on the day he died. To this day, I’ve wondered what if he had lived. Would he have married my neighbor or someone else? Would he be bouncing his grandchildren on his knee today? Would he be happy? Or would he be mourning the loss of his children and grandchildren in our present day wars? The more war changes, the more it remains the same because death is still death and the loss of loved ones over religion and politics is still just as senseless as it was when Michael Baldwin died.

Today, he would be 66-years-old, soon to be 67. I will remember him as a true American hero; a very proud young man. As for the identical pictures I drew, they are lost and gone but not forgotten. In my mind, the memory of them will forever remain a haunting portrait of war.

Sgt. Michael Richard Baldwin (7/19/1947 - 9/12/1968) KIA - Binh Long Province, South Vietnam, ambushed while on reconnaissance 5 kilometers Northeast of Loc Ninh, along with:
Ssgt. Phillip Kenneth Baker - Detroit, MI
Pfc. Eugene Russell Boyce - Spartanburg, SC
Sp4. Wayne Daniel Jenkins - Bryson City, NC
Pfc. Kenneth Leroy Martin - Los Angeles, CA
Pfc. Marion Luther Oxner - Leesville, SC
Pfc. Dale Arden Palm - Toledo, OH
Pfc. Kurt Francis Ponath - Cudahy, WI
Sp4. J C Williams Jr. - Muncie, IN
Pfc. William Wittman - Binghamton, NY

September 12, 1968, was a long and sad day for Alpha Company, 1st Battalion, 28th Infantry, 1st Infantry Division.

Pfc. Van Dyke William Manners (11/10/1945 - 2/15/1967) KIA - Kontum Province, South Vietnam

To all our brethren lost in wars, rest in peace. Your deaths will never be in vain.

I first published a different version of this story in 2006. Michael Baldwin’s cousin searched his name on Google and found my blog about a year later. She wrote me and said, “I just found your website and read your article about Mike.  I just wanted to say thank you…  It touched me and helped me remember my cousin very fondly.  He was a good guy and the last of the Baldwin men in our family.  He is remembered fondly by many of my friends who still [live] in Flemington, as well as my family.

“I also wanted to let you know that Aunt Peg didn’t handle Mike’s death very well.  She couldn’t even bring herself to go to the funeral.  I do remember that both she and my Uncle Alvin (Mike’s Dad) did attend the memorial at Ft. Dix after his death.  That was really all she could handle.  She always said she preferred to remember people while they were alive.  I can’t say that I blame her.  I didn’t understand it in 1968, but I get it now.

“Mike left a large impact on me.  The memorial service was really something and I can still remember the 21 gun salute at his funeral in the cemetery in Flemington.”

Mike’s mother passed away in 1993. His sister contacted me right after her cousin got in touch with her. Here is what she told me:

“My cousin called me and told me about your blog.  She had seen Michael’s name in it and read the story.  I read it too and also your reply to her.  I am Mike’s youngest sister.  You made me cry—but it was a good cry.

“My family and I are so pleased that we are not the only one’s who remember Mike.  Looking through your blog and your e-mail to Mary, I found it so interesting that there are so many things we are connected through.

“I go to church at Kirkpatrick Memorial Presbyterian church in Ringoes. Van Dyke’s mother went there before she died a couple of years ago and there is a stained glass window dedicated to him.

“My father worked for the Forans in the foundry they owned in Flemington.  My father was friends with Walt Foran. [My friend Frank’s father.]

“When I read your blog, I could feel that you knew Mike well.  He was a great kid and we loved him.  You talk about my mother—you may not know it but I had a brother who was older than Mike—his name was Alvin—we called him Skip.  He died in a car accident on Sept. 13, 1958.  No, I didn’t confuse the dates, it was one day short of 10 years later that Mike was killed.  It was a blow that my parents never recovered from.

“I am so glad that you wrote about Mike, it makes me feel that we are not the only ones who remember. Thank you again for keeping his memory alive.”

Please see: NJ Vietnam War Memorial - Michael Baldwin

Rick Rescorla - A True American Hero

This is not about the Anthonys. This is about someone who should never be forgotten.

Originally published in 2006, this is my account of but one man. I plan on posting this every September 11, in honor of Rick and all who perished that day. I will do this until I can do it no more.

Rick Rescorla was born in England. He enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1963 and retired as a colonel in 1990. Rick was a bonafide hero of the Vietnam war. In 1965, at the la Drang Valley battles, Lt. Gen. Hal Moore described him as “the best platoon leader I ever saw.” Rescorla’s men nicknamed him “Hard Core” for his bravery in battle. His heroism was documented and highlighted in the 2002 movie “We Were Soldiers” from the book “We Were Soldiers Once… and Young” co-written by Gen. Moore.

Since 1985, he worked in corporate security, subsequently becoming Vice President of Security for Morgan-Stanley/Dean-Witter, the largest tenant in the World Trade Center. After the 1993 attack, he trained all employees to evacuate the building. He maintained a structured, quarterly drill carried out by all staff to orderly get out. He is the man who predicted 9/11. Please see The Richard C. Rescorla Memorial Foundation.

On that fateful day, he safely evacuated all 2,800 Morgan-Stanley/Dean-Witter employees but himself and a few of his security staff. After doing his job, he returned to rescue others still inside. These were not even his people. They were all his people. He was last seen heading up the stairs of the tenth floor of the collapsing WTC 2. His remains have not been recovered. He left a wife and two children. This man is widely recognized as being solely responsible for saving over 3,000 lives. Is it of any importance that he became an American citizen after Vietnam?

Rick Rescorla is but one hero who perished that fateful day, but what a man he was and what a soul he has that will and should live forever in the hearts and minds of all who cherish freedom. All over the world.

See also: Calegion Post 149

MICHAEL NAGLE / NEW YORK TIMES / REDUX

 The Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, which holds approximately 2,000 pieces from the original WTC site in a hangar at JFK airport, has recently stepped up its efforts to find permanent homes for the artifacts. Any town or city, anywhere in the world, can apply for permission to take away a piece from the collection and build their own memorial around it. In this photo, a piece destined to become part of a memorial in York, Pennsylvania is secured to the bed of a trailer.

Slowly, the wiles of justice churn

PLEASE READ THIS POST FIRST

“Carla was my very best friend. We talked about everything and anything together. It didn’t matter where we lived. If Carla was there, it was home to me. Now I feel very alone.”

- Jim Larson in 1999

When John Huggins was arrested for the murder of Carla Larson in 1997, several ministers who knew him said no way. He was not capable of doing such a horrible act. After all, they proclaimed, this was a gentle giant, anointed by God to do great work. He had become a born-again Christian. He volunteered to go on many missionary trips to Haiti to help build schools, churches, and to run clinics. No, the preachers collectively agreed, John was a good man. For the sake of Carla and all her loved ones, law enforcement thought otherwise.

On her final day, Carla drove to a Publix supermarket a mere five minutes away from where she worked. Located at the intersection of International Drive and Osceola Parkway, she spent $8.63 for pita bread, pretzels, grapes and cherries. She never had a chance to eat any of her purchase.

While Carla’s life came to an abrupt end in 1997, John Huggins is still alive and kicking, and it’s taken some strange twists and turns along the way. This is what happens on death row, and this is why a life sentence without the possibility of parole may be a better punishment than the torture victims’ families must endure for many, many years to come. In some cases, it’s worth the wait. In others, it’s not. I guess it depends on who justice truly belongs to. It is not us, it is the likes of Jim Larson and all who suffer to this day. It is for Carla’s soul which still cries out. It is for John Huggins to own up, something he has never done, and to accept the punishment the state of Florida doled out to him. Like most murderers, he never will.

Here is the twisted journey of John Huggins.

Toward the end of January 1999, Huggins went on trial for the brutal murder of Carla Larson. A career criminal, he had already been convicted and sentenced to life in prison for robbing a bank just three months before he committed murder. This is a man who duped ministers of God, but he would never be able to fool the Almighty. Ultimately, he couldn’t fool a jury, either, and on February 4, less than a month later, he was pronounced guilty as charged; convicted of first-degree murder, kidnapping, carjacking and robbery.

In the fleeting moments after he heard the verdict, he looked at Jim Larson. Larson met his gaze and thought, bye, bye. It was his way of saying go to hell. If anyone had a right to ask for death, it was him, and death he wanted. One week later, a nine woman, three man jury concurred by an 8-4 vote, after deliberating a mere two hours.

The prosecutor had asked the jury to imagine Carla Larson’s last moments. She must have realized she was going to die. “When those hands went around her throat, she was fully and completely aware the last face she would ever see was that one. As she slowly lapsed into unconsciousness and died, that was her final memory.” [To anyone following the Anthony case, does that sound vaguely familiar?]

Incidentally, the jurors were never told about Jim Larson’s sister, murdered seven-and-a-half years earlier in Gainesville, by Danny Rolling.

On February 26, Carla may have thought justice was served had she been around, because the judge agreed with the jury. Her father, Mert Thomas, said,“That’s the way it should be. It still doesn’t bring her back.”

What the judge had to say was very damning to John Huggins. In his 14-page sentencing order, he read, “One can only imagine the alarm, the anxiety, the apprehension, the fright and the terror that she felt as she was forced to ride to her demise.

“What fear and horror she must have felt when she was forced to walk from her vehicle into the wooded area - Carla Larson’s own death march to Bataan. No one can truly know the emotional strain and physical pain she had to endure as she struggled to breathe as the defendant strangled her to death.”

The judge spoke a total of 30 minutes. “John Steven Huggins, you have not only forfeited your right to live among us as a free man, but under the laws of the state of Florida, you have forfeited your right to live at all… You shall be put to death in the electric chair by having electrical current passed through your body in such amount and frequency until you are rendered dead… John Steven Huggins, may almighty God have mercy on your soul.”

This did not bring the Larson and Thomas families any happiness, but they were willing to move on. Sadly, if you think this is where it ended and the world went merrily on its way, guess again. This was only the start of things to come.

♦

Within weeks of the conclusion of the trial, Preston Ausley, an engineer working for the Orange County Courthouse, contacted Huggins’ defense attorneys and told them about information the state knew but never disclosed. On March 25, 1999, his defense filed a petition for a writ of habeas corpus in court, alleging that the state withheld evidence that would have been favorable in direct violation of Brady, which consists of exculpatory (or impeaching) information that is material to the guilt or innocence of a defendant. It’s based on the U.S. Supreme Court case, Brady v. Maryland, where the court ruled that suppression of evidence by the prosecution to the defendant who has requested it violates due process.

In a detailed written order, the same trial court and judge found that the state violated the dictates of Brady and granted Huggins a new trial. Of course, the state appealed the ruling and lost. Here’s what the trial court ordered:

On June 16, 1997, an individual named Preston Ausley spoke with Detective Daniel Nazarchuk of the Orange County Sheriff’s Office. Mr. Ausley had contacted the Sheriff’s office with information regarding the Carla Larson case. Mr. Ausley told Detective Nazarchuk that a white Explorer cut him off in traffic [in Orlando] and that he had written down the tag number. Mr. Ausley told Detective Nazarchuk that he had verified within one digit that the license plate number he had recorded was the same as that of Carla Larson’s Explorer. As a result of this conversation, lead sheet 302 was created from Detective Nazarchuk’s notes. The lead sheet wasprovided to the defense during discovery.

At the evidentiary hearing, Mr. Ausley claimed that he told Detective Nazarchuk that the individual he saw driving the vehicle was a white female in her late twenties to early thirties with blonde hair justbelow the shoulder. However, Detective Nazarchuk’s notes indicate that Mr. Ausley said he saw a white male of the same description driving the vehicle. Detective Nazarchuk recorded the date of thesighting as June 12, 1997. However, Mr. Ausley believes it was June 11, 1997. At the hearing, Mr. Ausley explained that he is very bad with dates and came to the conclusion that he encountered Ms.Larson’s truck on June 11, 1997, by verifying the date through other sources.

 Thereafter, on February 1, 1999, the day after seeing Angel Huggins on television during coverage of Defendant’s trial, Preston Ausley went to the Office of the State Attorney to speak with the State Attorney for the Ninth Judicial Circuit, Lawson Lamar. Mr. Lamar was unavailable. Mr. Ausley was directed to Assistant State Attorney Dorothy Sedgwick who spoke with him briefly. Ms. Sedgwick asked Pat Guice, an Investigator with the State Attorney’soffice, to speak with Mr. Ausley and take a tape recorded statement.

In the recorded statement provided to Mr. Guice, Mr. Ausley stated that when he saw Angel Huggins on television it struck him that she resembled the white female with blonde hair he had seen driving the white truck with a license plate that matched Carla Larson’s within one digit on the morning of June 11, 1997, on International Drive.

After he had given his statement, Mr. Guice requested that Mr. Ausley return the next day so that the attorneys, who were at that very time prosecuting Defendant’s case in Jacksonville, could speak with him.

The next morning, the Assistant State Attorney who was prosecuting the case in Jacksonville spoke to Ausley by phone. After this conversation, the prosecutor determined that Ausley’s name had been given to the defendant in lead sheet 302, and that his statement did not support what he ”believed the defense’s theory of the case would be, and Mr. Ausley’s statement was of little value.”

Therefore, the state decided not to disclose the tape recorded statement or the information about what Ausley said he saw. As a matter of fact, this particular prosecutor was in court that same day and never disclosed it. The trial concluded later that week.

In overturning the verdict, the trial court judge analyzed every bit of evidence presented at trial and determined that prejudice ensued as “the suppression of Mr. Ausley’s statement resulted in a verdict that is not worthy of confidence.”

With that, John Huggins was granted his new trial. All charges against him were vacated and upheld by the Florida Supreme Court on appeal. Of course, he was still in prison for the bank robbery, if that had any redeeming value.

♦

To Jim Larson and all of Carla’s family and friends, it was like living through another devastating nightmare, but justice came once again. This time, the trial took place inside an Osceola County courtroom, but it didn’t serve Huggins any better. Hours after firing his lawyer, which seems to be consistent with the strange minds of convicted derelicts, he was convicted again on July 25, 2002. Jurors deliberated for five hours instead of two before deciding he was guilty of first-degree murder, carjacking, kidnapping and petty theft. What brought one charge down from robbery beats me. A pear-shaped diamond engagement ring and other jewelry isn’t petty, in my opinion.

His defense attorney this time was Orange-Osceola Public Defender Bob Wesley, if you remember him from Casey’s indigence hearing. He failed to sway jurors that it could have been his friend Kevin Smith, the man who let Huggins keep the SUV at his house until he torched it. The Assistant State Attorneys showed proof that Huggins had been staying at the Days Inn directly across the street from the Publix where Carla was abducted.

Like the Casey Anthony case, the evidence was primarily circumstantial. Witnesses testified they saw a man driving a white Ford Explorer that looked like hers. The man behind the wheel looked like Huggins, too, and her jewelry was found hidden in his mother-in-law’s back yard shed. Very incriminating, indeed, but still circumstantial.

As soon as Huggins fired his Public Defender, he told the judge, “We’ve come to an impasse on strategy for the penalty phase.”

The judge cautioned him, but agreed. He then ordered Wesley to remain on stand-by. “I think nothing is more personal than a decision to live or die,” Wesley said of Huggins’ decision.

Foolishly, he did represent himself during the penalty phase, one which showed him to be unemotional. It lasted all of one hour. In his argument against death, he said that he had a difficult childhood. He spoke of the wonderful work he did serving the sick and poor people in Haiti, tending to the afflicted no one else wanted to help. Imagine how much good he could “contribute to the prison community if given a sentence of life without parole.”

With no reservation, the judge told him, “You have not only forfeited your right to live among us as a free man, but under the laws of the state of Florida, you have forfeited your right to live at all.” Shades of deja vu.

Clearly, the judge had considered those mitigators, but in the end, he said they were far outweighed by five aggravating factors, including his prior felony record and the fact that Larson was kidnapped before she was killed. He also noted that jurors, who recommended the death penalty, unanimously found Larson’s murder to be “especially heinous, atrocious or cruel.”

“The horror, the agony, the emotional strain and fear she must have felt knowing of her impending death is beyond comprehension,” the judge exclaimed.

♦

Four years later, in November of 2006, John Huggins had a new attorney willing to take up his cause. While we may question why, this is the way the justice system works, and this is why I will never deny Casey Anthony a proper defense, no matter what. If scum like Huggins deserve it, so does she.

This time, it was a matter of his competence., and it was the first time it had come up in his case, according to his Tampa-based attorney, Eric Pinkard, who said he became concerned when he had trouble communicating with his client, according to a report in the Orlando Sentinel. [I do find it interesting that death row inmates tend to lean toward incompetence when all else fails, but that’s just my own personal observation and opinion, and one that Casey may pursue many years down the road if she is convicted and sentenced to die.]

The following day, the judge decided he was incompetent after three doctors agreed that Huggins couldn’t help his defense prepare his appeal case, and that he needed psychological treatment, including anti-psychotic prescriptions. In the state of Florida, an inmate on death row cannot be executed while receiving treatment. Slowly, the wheels of justice turn.

The judge ordered him to remain in the custody of the Department of Corrections and to be treated by doctors from the Department of Children & Families. “I’m OK with this,” said Jim Larson. “This is how the system works.”

The judge also ordered DCF officials to submit a report in 90 days.

John Huggins knows how to manipulate the system. After so many back and forth arguments over his competency - yes he is, no he’s not - the trial judge decided on October 20, 2009 that he was, in fact, competent. This came after he heard testimony from a psychologist who found him to be a liar who also exaggerated the truth. For three years, he was in a legal state of sanity limbo; in and out of a world of competency. Finally, he was deemed sane enough to proceed with his legal appeal! Or so we thought.

In November, only a month later, his attorney had another evaluation done by Tampa-based psychologist Richard Carpenter. At a July [2010] hearing, Carpenter testified that Huggins demonstrated signs of mental illness. “He expressed these delusions about the Feds, the Dixieland Mafia and that he was being framed,” and here we go, all over again, twelve years after the murder of Carla Larson.

In that July hearing, prosecutors noted that the issue of Huggins’ competence has lingered for years and suggested that his repeated evaluations could have taught him how to trick those tests. The judge expressed frustration over the time it took from tests done in November and when the motion was filed, more than six months later, and to complicate matters even more, Huggins filed his own documents requesting that his legal team be removed. He refused to meet with his attorneys and Carpenter. Quite clearly, this has been one mess after another, and it clogs up the system. Had John Huggins only put his talents to good use.

Meanwhile, his attorney argued that an upcoming hearing on post-conviction appellate claims should be delayed until the question of his competency is settled.

The judge insisted that the hearing would take place next month while that is being decided. Also, there are remaining issues over claims involving ineffective counsel and prosecutorial misconduct. “This case is mired in quicksand,” he said, and he’s not convinced whether Huggins is delusional or trying to delay the process.

Now, we come to August, and how far have we advanced? Once again, the judge asked court-appointed experts to try to come up with an opinion regarding Huggins’ competency by reviewing doctor’s notes. “I am competent,” he told the court. “My mental condition is sound and always has been sound.”

Huh?

During the hearing held in the final week of the month, guards had to forcibly remove Huggins from his cell at Florida State Prison in Starke so he could attend. An electronic stun belt was attached to his body that would shock him if he acted out. A deputy stood by ready to zap him with 50,000 volts. Needless to say, it wasn’t necessary, although he was anything but cooperative, and he has shown a history of animosity toward this particular judge.

As the latest hearing wrapped up, Jim Larson said he was planning on taking a trip up to Gainesville to attend the 20th anniversary remembrance of his younger sister, Sonja, murdered and mutilated by serial killer Danny Rolling, now executed, as John Steven Huggins continues to legally mutilate the justice system.

Larson said he was confident this is the countdown to Huggins’ execution. “I was there for the last one [at Rolling’s execution] and I’ll be there for this one, front row. Maybe he’ll send for me.”

♦

Oh yes, there’s just one more thing of special importance. After attending Casey’s last status hearing, I spoke to Jeff Ashton about John Huggins on the way out of the courtroom. You see, he was the prosecuting attorney when it all began. He was the one throughout all these years of trials and motions. It was Jeff Ashton who represented the state time and time again. I asked him what he thought. How would this latest hearing turn out? “I don’t know. I really don’t know. It’s in the judge’s hands.”

The judge? Oh, yes, that would be Chief Judge Belvin Perry, Jr., the same one who found Huggins to be incompetent, but the same judge who sentenced him to death. Twice.

See also: Commission on Capital Cases

When karma strikes twice

At 6:13 PM EDT on October 26, 2006, Danny Harold Rolling took his final breath. Florida’s most notorious serial killer since Ted Bundy was executed by lethal injection for raping and carving up five college students in a ghastly spree that horrified and terrorized the University of Florida’s campus in Gainesville back in August of 1990, just as the fall semester got underway. Each one was murdered with a hunting knife. Some were mutilated, sexually molested and put in gruesome poses. One of his victim’s severed head was placed on a shelf, her body posed in a seated position.

Just before his execution, he confessed to the November 1989 murders of a 55-year-old man in Shreveport, Louisiana, his 24-year-old daughter and her 8-year-old son.

One of his victims at UF was Sonja Larson, a freshman who was killed along with her roommate in the apartment they shared. Her goal was to become a teacher. On that fateful night, she and her roommate, Christina Powell, went to a local Walmart to buy a few things. Danny Rolling was a drifter who just happened to be in the store at the same time. He followed the women back to their apartment and attacked them in their sleep.

Her brother, Jim Larson, who lives in Orlando, said, “He confessed to killing five people. He cut their heads off, then played with them. He did the worst things you can possibly do to somebody…”

During the trial, he was so  shocked by the details that at one point, he curled into a ball on the floor and sobbed. He might have never moved from that spot had it not been for his wife, Carla. She cradled him as he cried and sat with him during the remainder of the trial. She convinced him that evil had not infested the entire world, despite it touching so close to home. She was his guide and mentor; his beacon of hope and strength.

Fast forward seven years. Carla Larson got up on the morning of June 10, 1997, to go to work as a building engineer for Centex Rooney Construction Company. The project, a resort called Coronado Springs, was on Walt Disney World property. It was an ordinary day until she left for lunch and never came back. She went to a nearby Publix supermarket to buy grapes and strawberries when a small time convict named John Huggins kidnapped her in the parking lot, drove to a remote field, and strangled her, partially burying her in a shallow grave and covering her with leaves.

What did Jim Larson do to deserve this? They had a one-year-old daughter together. It was her idea, but he didn’t want to bring a child up in a world where murderers like Danny Rolling stalked innocent victims. After extensive counseling, Jim found inner peace and their daughter was born. They had bought a small house in the suburbs of Orlando, in College Park. They installed new locks and a home security system. They bought a Rottweiler. Carla drove a big Ford Explorer. Jim made sure he did everything he could do to keep his family safe.

John Huggins was a Sanford landscaper who had been in and out of trouble with the law most of his life. He was on vacation with his estranged wife, Angel, and their children, staying at a hotel directly across the street from that Publix. In broad daylight, he punched Carla in the stomach, forced her into her Explorer, and drove away, never to be seen alive again. Two days later, her nude body was found, partially clad in a beach towel. She was badly decomposed after only two days in the hot summer sun, but one of the medical examiner’s photographs suggested the possibility of a pre-mortem sexual injury. In other words, rape, without all of the details of the autopsy report. At the time, Dr. Sashi Gore was the Chief Medical Examiner for Orange and Osceola Counties. A different Dr. G back then.

I distinctly remember this murder. It’s funny how the mind plays tricks. After his arrest, John Huggins looked like an ordinary guy to me, unlike a murderer, but then again, what is a murderer supposed to look like? Someone pleasing to the eye, like Casey Anthony or Ted Bundy? When Jim Larson was interviewed on TV, he acted so unemotional and flat, he became a prime suspect in the minds of viewers. He’s hiding something! I even hesitated to believe him because of his indifference. He talked to the media, never shedding a tear, and never showing anger or sorrow. When he spoke, it was insipid, with a prosaic stare. Law enforcement officials were so perplexed by his strange behavior, they asked him to take a lie detector test, just to see if he was somehow involved. Of course, his only involvement was the incredible love he felt for his wife. It lasts to this very day. The murders of his sister seven years earlier, and now his wife, had completely drained him.

On the afternoon of the murder, Carla’s white Explorer was seen speeding away from what turned out to be her temporary grave, along the Orange-Osceola county border. Huggins was trying to patch up his broken marriage. He and his family had been staying in motel and hotel rooms mostly around the Melbourne area where his wife’s mother lived, before coming to Orlando. Angel, his second wife, later told police that her husband was gone at lunchtime that day and returned sometime later, all sweaty and nervous. She soon left with the children to stay with her mother, Fay, leaving Huggins behind.

Later that day, he arrived at Fay’s house driving a white SUV that matched the general description of Carla’s. It was a rental, he said. Although he and his wife were in the process of a divorce, they continued to stay together in the coastal area until her sister, Tammy, arrived to visit. During that time she and Huggins began a relationship. What happened next was something I remember because it was so obvious what this was all about.

Kevin Smith, who lived nearby, was a friend of Huggins. He had agreed to let him keep the SUV at his house for a few days. On the evening of October 26, police received a phone call that an SUV was engulfed in flames in a vacant lot near Kevin’s house. Instinctively, most of us knew what it was, and a subsequent investigation proved it was Carla’s and it was set on fire intentionally.

On the following day, seventeen days after Carla’s murder, Tammy returned to her home in Maryland with John in tow. Shortly after they left, Angel watched America’s Most Wanted, which featured Carla’s murder. She had wondered where John got the SUV and never believed his story. She called the show and reported that she suspected her husband of the murder. As a result of that call, investigators conducted two extensive searches of Fay’s house, but were unable to find anything incriminating. Angel and her mother searched, too, and one day while getting a can of bug spray out of the back yard shed, Fay noticed a screwdriver on top of an electrical box. On a whim, she unscrewed the lid, and found jewelry inside - jewelry that was later found to belong to Carla, including her pear-shaped diamond engagement ring.

John Huggins was arrested in Maryland and extradited back to Florida. After his indictment in front of an Orange County grand jury, he requested a change of venue, which was granted and transferred to Jacksonville in Duval County. On February 3, 1999, Huggins was convicted of first-degree murder, carjacking, robbery and kidnapping. During the sentencing phase, Jim Larson told the jury that, ”One night Carla and I were sitting on a bench outside her dorm room. We were just talking. Carla got up to do something. She walked a few steps and turned around and looked at me. It was just a moment. But when our eyes met, it was as if our souls touched one another. I smiled back at her. I felt so good my eyes filled with tears. I loved her so much. We set our wedding date for Dec. 1, 1990, after her graduation from college.”

After considering the aggravators and mitigators, the jury recommended the death penalty by an 8-4 vote. The court agreed, and John Steven Huggins was sentenced to death. Ironically, Danny Rolling and John Huggins were on death row together. Two murders unrelated except for one common thread - a man, two women and two families who did nothing in life to deserve this. Neither did Jim and Carla’s daughter, a mere one-year-old at the time, much too young to sin, and much too young to know anything about bad karma.

This is the end of PART ONE. Where am I going with this? Wait and see. The answer will come this week, when I weave it all together with what we are witnessing today in a case that has so much national exposure, it dwarfs the magnitude of Carla’s murder in scale, but certainly not in importance.

TO READ PART 2, CLICK HERE

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BACKGROUND CHECKS

The loud bark of low heeled derelicts

Last Tuesday, Cindy Anthony e-mailed Local 6 News saying she would give away a pair of Caylee's shoes to a nonprofit organization called Children of Love Foundation, which, primarily, donates shoes, food and clothing to orphans in Central Florida and Honduras. What a mess that simple e-mail created. After WKMG announced the news, the trolls came out in droves, like a festering cauldron of abomination boiling over.

Here's what went down. It's based on factual information interspersed with my opinion, so decide for yourself. Cindy knows a woman who works at the Walgreens Pharmacy near her residence, on the corner of Narcoosee Road and Lee Vista Boulevard, in southeast Orlando. As a matter of fact, the two women have known each other for years, including before Caylee's disappearance. Cindy's acquaintance, Doris Patalano, is affiliated with Children of Love. When she found out about the shoe drive, Operation Barefoot, the group had planned for Saturday, Cindy said she would do what she could to help generate local generosity. This meant contacting the media, something Cindy has never shied away from. What unfolded was a pity.

First off, Cindy can be a pariah. We all know that. She's not the most beloved mother in Orlando or anywhere else. Neither is her daughter, but that's another story. Cindy has been known to contact the press to stir up the works, so her reputation is far from sterling. Think rotten pizza smell and her blatant spinning of words. OK, fine, but remember, she lost her own flesh and blood, and no matter what any of us think of her, it's still very painful. What ensued reminded me of the 'boy who cried wolf' syndrome, so when Cindy tried to do something righteous, it came out wrong, as usual. She, more than likely, told Doris she would contact one of the media outlets and the woman thought it would help tremendously. Cindy thought about it later and decided, on her own, to donate a pair of Caylee's shoes. What a marvelous idea! Only it wasn't. To some people, everything she touches turns to crumbling dirt, and that's a shame.

As soon as word got out, all "heel" broke loose and the laces became untied. What started out as, more than likely, an innocent gesture turned ugly very quickly. Suddenly, the pharmacy got nasty and threatening phone calls. The nonprofit foundation got the same treatment and more, including despicable e-mails from some very vulgar people. Trust me, I know who some of those trolls are because they admitted it on a very open and malevolent site, where they plotted this nefarious plan of attack. One person with many phony names compounded by more of the same appears larger than the truth. What they decided to do was astonishing, and just about as stupid as the Salem Witch Craft Trials of 1692. They body slammed Doris and the foundation. Hard. They said if she or her damn organization accepts a pair of shoes or anything else from George and Cindy Anthony, they wouldn't just boycott the pharmacy and foundation, they'd bury them. They'd get the word out that Children of Hope is evil, rotten, and deserves to be driven out of existence. Not only that, but CVS would be more than happy to take their money for all of the psychiatric and antipsychotic medications they are prescribed, not to mention drugs for IBS and other maladies brought on by their own self-destructive doings. Of course, they finished their tirades the same way they do everywhere they squat - JUSTICE FOR CAYLEE, as if justice is theirs and theirs alone to give.

Initially, the poor foundation was beside itself. It had no idea the world was filled with so much hate, particularly against one person; two, if you count George. Fearing for their own safety, the group almost called the whole thing off. Fortunately, sound minds came along and sanity prevailed. In the end, the shoe drive was successful. George and Cindy dropped off six pairs of shoes and a bag of socks, all new, that will help orphaned children. Lots of other people did the same, ignoring the persevering pestilence that permeated the Interwebz.

The sad part about this is that a small clan of people can almost disrupt a good cause. Did Cindy set out to help Children of Love or was it more along the line of trying to make herself look good; to help rehabilitate her ailing reputation? It may have been a bit of both, but so what? In truth, most of those caustic complainers do not live anywhere near Orlando, nor will they ever give an ounce of help or hope to the foundation or anywhere else. What they set out to destroy was a complete farce. How dare they try to take shoes, clothes, and other items away from hundreds of children in need because of their hatred of one woman. What rotten souls they are. If ever there were a line of shoes called Cads, they would be filled by these worn out, low-down heels.

More from "My bus runneth over"

ENTERING THROUGH THE BACK DOOR

Casey's tragic bus took another wrong turn when it recently handed her former and final boyfriend, Anthony Lazzaro, a copy of a subpoena duces tecum without deposition for phone records from January 2009 to present.

What's this all about? Casey has been locked up for how long? What would her legal team want to do with poor Tony's cell phone records for the past year-and-a-half plus? William Jay, his attorney, thinks that whatever it is, it's no good. He countered by filing a MOTION TO QUASH SUBPOENA DUCES TECUM. Should Baez & Mason be surprised?

What exactly is a subpoena duces tecum without deposition?  A subpoena duces tecum is a summons ordering a party to appear before the court and produce documents, in this case, cell phone records, that could be used at a hearing or at Casey's trial. The literal translation from Latin is to "bring with you under penalty of punishment." The without deposition part means that Lazzaro would not be compelled to appear in person to offer those documents. Whew, what a lucky break.

Here's the problem that the defense doesn't get. After a hearing last August, Judge Stan Strickland - yes, the fine, upstanding and highly revered judge the defense had removed from the case this past April - ordered that, "the time frame allowed to be subject to a subpoena duces tecum was from June 1, 2008 to December 18, 2008."

If you recall, the defense wanted Roy Kronk's cell phone records, too, for a similar period of time. They were denied that request. Poor Roy Kronk was one of the first ones the defense pointed incriminating fingers at while tossing him under a few speeding Van Hool tires.

What would Casey's attorneys do with Anthony Lazzaro's cell phone records from the past twenty months or so? Imagine looking into each and every person he ever made and received calls to and from. Why, if only half of them could be investigated for the next three years, give or take, two things may happen. One, the trial would surely be postponed, and two, there may be a Zenaida or two in that there briar patch. That's a thought, but Baez can't afford another three years pro bono and Mason will be retired by then. No, it's not that. What actually strikes me as funny is that this team recklessly pursues everyone law enforcement has cleared. This includes the Grunds, her former friends, Kronk, of course, and a number of others.

Do I think the defense is trying to pin the crime on Lazzaro? No, I do not. Once again, this is a feeble attempt to discredit the state's prime witnesses, and if he ever made a prank call to Pizza Hut and it's in those records, all of his credibility will fly out the window. "Your honor, this proves the state's witness is unreliable."

I expect this sort of treatment. It is the defense's job to tarnish everyone the state plans to call up to the stand, excluding experts who will go head-to-head with their own slate, but in this particular case, as in many others; just what does the defense really need 26+ months of phone records for? As soon as Lazzaro realized who and what he was possibly dating, he high-tailed it. Casey bit the dust and is, most likely, nothing more than a morbid thought in his mind today. Meanwhile, all this team seems to be going after is the stand-up crowd, with no Zenaida in the patch. Anthony Lazzaro's phone records aren't worth a rabbit's foot. He moved on with his life. Should his girlfriend of today be slapped around, too?

In his wisdom, Judge Strickland made the right and proper call. With Judge Belvin Perry now at the helm, did the defense realize it would lose another Motion for Reconsideration of Prior Rulings if it chose to go that route instead, so, let's choose another path? Enter through the back door. Hand little guy Tony an official order and hope he doesn't take it to his lawyer. Well, he did, and William Jay knew exactly what to do with it. So will Judge Perry.

Here we go... over and over again

"Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet."

- Rudyard Kipling, in his Barrack-room ballads, 1892

What Kipling was lamenting was the vast ocean of opinions that separated the British and the inhabitants of the Indian subcontinent. I see similarities in the courtroom.

The governor of Florida is the top banana of the state Executive branch, just as the president of the United States is in charge of the federal equivalent. The governor of this state is the only person who has the authority to name a Secretary of the Department of Corrections. Therefore, as we have heard time and time again, jails and prisons fall under the auspices of the Executive branch, not the Judicial or Legislative.

COMES NOW, Casey Anthony's defense team has filed yet another motion regarding her lack of privacy in jail, including, but not limited to, what types of snacks she buys from the commissary. Titled the NOTICE OF STANDING OBJECTION OF ABUSE OF FLORIDA STATUTE 119.01, it, once again, “objects to the constant, unconstitutional and abusive application of [the statute] as it relates to this cause..." In other words, inquiring minds should not have the right-to-know if those nachos are Frito Lay or another brand, never mind what flavor.

For starters, here's what F.S. 119.01 says about the matter as it explains the general state policy on public records...

It is the policy of this state that all state, county, and municipal records shall be open for personal inspection by any person.

There are actually 4 parts to the statute, but the remainder are superfluous, in the sense that they address matters of technological advances, meaning we are no longer moving into a digital world, we are in the thick of it and the state is obligated to keep up with it. With that lone entry, all that should matter to the judge and Casey's attorneys are the simple words that need no further explanation, “shall be open for personal inspection.”

Judge Perry has no authority to usurp Florida statutes, which come from the Legislature, and he has no power to trump the Executive branch, either, which runs jails and prisons.

This is certainly not the first time Casey's lawyers have filed a motion like this. Each time, they have been turned back for the same reason. Whether it was Judge Strickland or Judge Perry, the same old, same old response has been delivered. “I have no power over the Executive branch of government. I cannot tell the jail how to run itself.”

Of course, those responses did nothing to stop this new request. I don't know whether to give the defense an “A” for perseverance or an “E” for filing another wasted motion. I know exactly what grade I would give, but instead, lets take a look at the meat of the motion.

1. This matter is a Death Penalty Case that has garnered national attention and local obsession by the media.
2. The undersigned counsel (Baez & Mason) has made repeated objections as to the application of Chapter 119.01 of the Florida Statutes.
3. The Defense has objected to information being released by Law Enforcement, Corrections, and the State Attorneys office in this matter.
4. It has been and continues to be the defense position that the First Amendment rights of the media must give way to the constitutionally protected rights of the accused, especially when the State seeks the ultimate penalty of Death.
5. This objection is standing and continues and the Defense invites this Honorable Court to either reverse any prior rulings as it relates to public disclosure or Sua Sponte order the aforementioned agencies to prevent any future abuses of Chapter 119.01.
6. On July 13, 2010, the media reported that the accused ordered "Crackers and Cocoa." This ridiculous coverage has become common in this case. The information was obtained from a public records request from the Orange County Jail. [A WESH Web story was attached to the motion.]
7. The only purpose of this type of coverage is to embarrass, harass and humiliate the accused and poison the potential jury pool.

It is that final argument that strikes me as peculiar. The only thing that has become an embarrassment is the amount of motions this defense has filed regarding, not only this matter, but others. It is no trade secret that the jail, the state attorneys and the sheriff's office routinely respond to media requests for public records and the agencies are obliged to hand over the goods. True, this is a capital murder case, but if we are a nation where all people are created equal, and that means Floridians and their state's Open Government and Public Records laws, it must clearly include Casey Marie Anthony, who has no special rights outside of each and every one of us. The rules will not be rewritten.

My advice for the defense would be to take the "Crackers and Cocoa" argument up with the governor. That's an executive decision, not the court's. As for tinkering with Florida's statutes, that's up to the Legislature.

And for what goes in Casey's belly behind bars? Without a doubt, potential jurors are not going to remember whether Casey squandered her jail allowance away on nachos and bean dip or saltine crackers. No, not at all. What those jurors will ponder is whether she squandered her life away by murdering her child, and nothing more. Besides, what's so embarrassing about liking Doritos?

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Texas Equitable

"My bus runneth over."

I can almost picture a sign like that hanging on the wall of a particular attorney's office.

Princeton University's WordNet describes equitable as fair to all parties as dictated by reason and conscience; "equitable treatment of all citizens". Three important words jump out at us - fair, reason, and conscience. I have come to believe that, during the course of two years, Casey Anthony's defense has been anything but that. A recurring theme continues to cling to the backs of our minds; who else will the defense throw under the bus?

When Casey Anthony forced the hand of an extremely fair and equitable judge, that being the Honorable Stan Strickland, it was unconscionable. What we caught was a real life glimpse, a puzzling ponderance, into the stupefying notions of her defense and what they would be capable of doing to anything that stands in their way, past, present and future, if necessary. Trust me, I felt the wrath, but in the end, it was nothing personal because this team has no conscience. The age old idiom flares its nostrils and cries it's a dog eat dog world, only in real life, some people are mutts; wolves in fox's clothing. Yes, the first to fall, but not from grace, was the judge, who is regarded as one of Florida's finest. Next came Roy Kronk, whose alleged dalliances have nothing to do with this case. Why attack a man's integrity? Why would this defense foolishly infer that he was capable of murdering Caylee Anthony? When that idea fell through the cracks, the defense moved on. After all, the bottom line was that Roy had all the evidence he needed to prove he had nothing to do with the toddler's death. Of course, we cannot leave Richard and Jesse Grund behind. The heavy tire tracks are still indented in their reputations, unscathed prior to this debacle. They haven't had a chance to scrape themselves up from the defense road to virtual perdition.

Now, we're faced with Tim Miller and Texas EquuSearch. A fierce and dedicated fighter who sought nothing more than closure and justice for Caylee's death, he, too, has come under the tread of Jose Baez's and J. Cheney Mason's tragic bus. Prior to Mason's entry into this case, the defense claimed that Casey was in jail when the body of the little girl was tossed away for vermin to devour. Therefore, she couldn't have done it. Dr. John Schultz, Professor of Anthropology at the University of Florida, concluded that the body had been placed in the woods off Suburban Drive before or soon after June 17th. Some of the evidence he examined to make this determination included the amount of decay on the bones, the scatter patterns of those bones from animal disturbances, leaf growth through the bags and the remains, and positive indications she was in those woods during heavy summer rains because of muck deposits on bones.

Those are the facts. What the defense will try to prove is that there's no proof Casey placed the corpse there. They will also dispute the findings of Schultz and Dr. Jan Garavaglia, the Orange/Osceola Medical Examiner, who concurs. No one saw Casey do it, therefore, it could be anyone else, including a searcher.

One thing that has captured my mind is this obsession with TES records. I understand it's the defense's responsibility to dig deep into all possible clues; to search for the, sometimes, elusive thread of hope, but I smell a set-up. The bus is rolling and looking for new victims; new lives to destroy in its path. Although gone, Todd Macaluso confidently declared a year ago that the body was placed there while Casey was incarcerated. Mason switched gears and said that no one entered the woods when TES searched the area in September of 2008. He acknowledged the area was flooded. This was a major revelation except for one thing – he didn't state that it couldn't have been anyone else who, in fact, did look on their own time and off the documented records kept by Tim Miller's group, almost 4,000 strong. It still begs the question, if no one from TES searched there in September, why the incessant need to examine all those records? Because the body could have been tossed in November or December by a TES straggler. Scrutiny is the key element.

The tack this defense is taking is not unusual. It will rely on discrediting the state's evidence, which is predominantly circumstantial. Call it mucking. All the defense has to do is debunk whatever it can, and never mount a credible attack based on their client's innocence. That's why they never looked for Zenaida Gonzalez. She doesn't exist and never did. Why seek what isn't there? Casey will never take the stand and she will never seek a plea. Why should she?

In my opinion, Baez & Company will scour over those records. Openly, Baez said, “We just want to be as thorough as we possibly can.” Behind closed doors, it may be another matter. When Chief Judge Belvin Perry granted the defense full access to those records with the stipulation that they not be allowed to publicize any private information about the searchers, it was a victory of sorts. Why? Because 4,000 people will have their cans of worms opened and the skeletons in their closets will be scrutinized beyond reproach.

What will stop this team from stretching out their arms and pointing fingers at several searchers as possible suspects fully capable of murder? Why couldn't it have been someone else, a real “Zenaida” who stole the girl and joined the search in order to hide her? Holy mackerel! The mother lode! If a Zenaida Gonzalez exists, it will be one from TES. Under an assumed name, of course.

In the final quarter of 2008, I was not healthy enough to help search for the missing toddler. Today, I'm almost glad, because I would now be one of the many names the defense team could target. Oh well, they're going to be going after people with criminal records and disgruntled ex-spouses. In my case, it's immaterial. In life, I try to be fair. I know how to reason, and I have a conscience. Just like Tim Miller and all those searchers, who only wanted to help. From the defense, all I'm smelling are exhaust fumes because my bus already came and went. Tim's is on its way. That's not very equitable, is it?

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TEXAS EQUUSEARCH

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