Friday, January 7, 2011

of Crime and Punishment

"Do you think the sentence is fair?"
"Are you satisfied with the outcome?"
"Do you feel justice has been served?"

These are the genius questions local media, in their penetrating thoroughness, have asked me since the sentencing of  Pop's killers. The questions are senseless. They have no meaning. A frustrating example of how little the media attempts to understand the victims and are looking for their sound bites. They wanted me to say how angry I was or how the DA chickened out. But the truth is, anger has no utility and the assistant DA worked his ass off. He thought he still had a case even to the day the deal was made. His boss, however, saw differently and I happened to agree.

Fairness is not a concept that can be applied in this matter. There is nothing our family can receive that would compensate our loss. What then is fair for the defendants? They killed someone, so should they lose their lives? I hardly think they would find that fair. Neither would it comfort us. So fairness is off the table.

Of satisfaction there can be none. The perpetrators were as young as fifteen at the time of the crime. To put a child in prison for life is not satisfaction. The charges against the accused are brought by the people, not the victims, so the law isn't designed to satisfy the victim of a violent crime.

That leaves us with justice. What justice is now comes down to a number, the years spent in prison. For losing Pop, there is no appreciable number. No number can satisfy the pain with which my family still struggles. The number, as it turns out is 11, each. Eleven years, mandatory serving a minimum of 85% of that time with good behavior. To view that number as a function of the value of my dad's life is to approach the sentence wrongly. First, it is the maximum that can be given for the charge of voluntary manslaughter. The media says the defendants, "avoided murder charges," but in actuality they admitted to acting stupidly and viciously and quite unintentionally took a man's life. That appears to have been the case. And in that sense they have gotten what they deserved.

I am not satisfied with the sentences nor do I think them fair, but only for the reasons I've so far discussed. I have called the sentence a gift. Eleven years may not seem like a long time in prison for having killed someone, but it is plenty of time to turn around their lives. The tragedy, the true injustice, would be for them to leave prison older, yet no wiser. To go home and continue their aimless lives, without goals or rules. To drink themselves out of sense and good judgment and one day act stupidly again, destroying another family. Eleven years gives them the time to get an education, find God, write a novel....

One reporter remarked at how I could be so generous. It isn't generosity so much as hope that wishes this ordeal to be a life changing experience for them. The cynical me is aware that the odds say they won't come out any different. But why should I be led by the cynical me? I do not forgive them, but I can't remain angry and vindictive. It is exhausting to wish ill on someone and a bad example to set for one's own children.

My goal throughout this whole ordeal has been to represent my family with grace and understanding. To be grateful for the hard work of the detectives and attorneys who worked to resolve this matter. I am grateful for it. I have been more than impressed with the professionalism and tact that most of them have displayed. At the sentencing, however, two attorneys attempted a maneuver that I found tactless. They asked the judge to amend the ruling in a way that minimizes their clients' participation. It was a maneuver so devoid of empathy that another attorney later contacted me to say that he too was disappointed in their behavior.

The outcry of righteous anger is appreciated. It is, however, the natural result of two deficiencies: information about the particulars of this case and an understanding of terms like 'malice' and 'malice aforethought,' which taken at face value can seem straightforward, but are malleable enough in the hands of a jury. The case was filed under penal code 187, but would never have gone to trial as such. Being present at the preliminary hearings showed me just how difficult the witnesses, what few they were and what little they saw (or said they saw) was going to be. It was enough to convince me that a jury could monumentally undo the ADA's hard work. Instead of five people sitting in prison, some of them may have gone home to their normal lives before summer. That would have been unacceptable.

2 comments:

  1. al,
    this is an amazing response, one that few can truly understand. myself, i know i say i believe in forgiveness and restitution but ultimately i don't know if i could react the way you have. truly amazing to me. thanks for sharing.

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  2. Albert,
    You are amazing. I don't know what else to say, it would be trite.

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