September 11, 2011

September 11, 2011

I did not intend to be drawn into today’s ceremonies. Over the last few days, I’ve done my remembering: how I first heard that something inexplicable was happening; what I first saw on television; what I did, not just on September 11 but in the days that followed. I have counted the degrees of separation—a friendly acquaintance who worked as a bond trader and went to more than 30 funerals, a woman I knew who lost her fiancé and sang “I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places” at his funeral—and each degree was a blessing and a source of guilt. I remember finding it so hard to take in, that airplanes had crashed into buildings, that I watched the film footage over and over until it finally became real and I couldn’t bear to see it again. If it took 100 watchings, I doubt I’ve seen it the 101^st time. I turn away now when I know it’s coming.

I’ve remembered all of that and all of the details and tears, and I told myself I did not need to—did not want to—watch or listen today.

But here I am. You too?

This morning, I fed the dogs early and went back to bed. I dreamed I had a houseful of people and I wanted nothing more than to serve them tea. I made pot after pot, and then couldn’t find them, wanted to use my grandmother’s hand-painted tea cups, and couldn’t find them.

When I woke, I turned on the radio to NPR. I heard the first moment of silence, the second moment of silence. As so many have in years since, I wondered how we got from there to here.

Our common humanity is a stone soup, made of strange and unlikely and contradictory ingredients. One of the common ingredients must be a desire or need to know a thing and its rightness, and then to possess that rightness. Once we’ve got it, individually, we find as if by magnetism other individuals who possess the same rightness. Then the barriers go up. If those of us on the inside of our barriers have the Right with us, then you on the outside can only have the Wrong.

I have strong opinions on politics and government and how our country should be shaped, and I’ve been inside the barrier. Still am, I must admit. In recent years, I’ve tried to open my understanding. I try to get it, that people inside the other barriers feel and believe and care as deeply as I do. They aren’t stupid, or ignorant, or thick. It’s not always easy to remember that—wouldn’t Forrest Gump’s mother say, thick is as thick does?—but I do try.

The sweetest ingredient in our stone soup is generosity of spirit, and it must be most easily absorbed and spread throughout our bodies, too, because we spark so fast to another’s woe and sorrow. We feel it, and share it, and that is our humanity. Every day as on September 11, 2001.

Will you have green tea, or black? I do have herbal.

Tower Two

 a thin

               slick knife
               slits skin
               or glass
               and steel
               the same.

               the next
               heartbeat
               pumps blood
               paper
              and flame.

(Nora Gaskin Esthimer, September 2001)

The Verdict

A few minutes ago, the jury in the Brad Cooper murder trial found him guilty of first degree murder, meaning life in prison without the possibility of parole. The judge passed the sentence, and the appeal has been filed.

The Twitter feed on this case had become pretty narrow. I lurked some but quit posting because the loudest voices became nasty and/or disrespectful and/or showed little understanding of what was happening, or how it might sit with the jury. I have watched a lot of trials. I have read a lot of books. I give myself high marks for both empathy and objectivity. That somewhat contradictory mindset is what a juror has to have. Maybe that's why I can read them pretty well, even from a distance. Of course, unless we're in the courtroom, we don't see, hear, or feel what the jurors do. That means we are always at a disadvantage and it behooves us to stay humble.

The loudest Tweeters of the last couple of weeks are shocked by the verdict. Shocked. Amazed and shocked and stunned.

Perhaps some of the people behind those voices will begin to understand the process a bit, when they've calmed down. Ultimately, that's the value of following these tragedies. We learn about ourselves, other people, and what our legal process is about, warts and all. That is a greater good.

The process doesn't end, of course. An appeal court may find reversible error. The Tweeters did, but I'm glad they don't get a vote. If the Tweeters aren't already aware the North Carolina as the only method in the country for actually appealing on the grounds of innocence. That's something I'm very proud of.

And down the road, what if it is determined that Brad is one of wrongly convicted? It'll be awful, another layer of endless hurt caused by Nancy Cooper's death.

A few days ago, Osama ben Laden was killed in my name. I turned back to the beautiful expression of humanity from John Donne, so it's fresh on my mind. For Nancy, killed for no reason other than it suited her killer, and for Brad who has been sentenced in my name, I quote it here, and wish for each of you, peace.

"All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated...As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness....No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." From John Donne's Meditations

Ducks

There had been mention on an ornithologist on the witness list, so when the Defense said that they would be bringing in "the ducks," that they would be kept out of the courtroom until the last minute, that they would be in a sack--well, I thought we had real ducks coming. No. Three ornamental ducks, two of which used to be in the foyer of the Coopers' home. The third was on the refrigerator. In a photo of the foyer (taken when? I don't remember) the ducks were missing. One of Nancy's friends pointed that out and it became part of the theory of the crime: Brad and Nancy struggled in the foyer and the ducks were broken, subsequently removed.

It turns out that Brad's mother packed them away and they eventually went to the attorney who represented Brad in the custody case as partial payment for her services. Brad's mother was on the stand to identify the ducks.

The Prosecution was livid about the ducks being produced at the last minute. Mrs. Cooper was asked, did she not know where the ducks were all along? Why did she not say earlier? She must have known their significance; did she do it on purpose to make the Prosecution witnesses look like liars? Her answer was, no one asked her.

The Defense will probably rest today--although we can expect rebuttal witnesses on both sides, I should think. The Defense's case has been aggressive. Out of the presence of the jury, both attorneys have argued forcefully for their evidence and experts and have objected just as strongly. They've won some and lost some. I would like to see how they have scored their own performance.

I'm not sure it's right to call the Defense's presentations a "case." They don't have to prove anything after all, just raise reasonable doubt. The elements of doubt: two witnesses who say they saw Nancy jogging that Saturday morning; experts who say that Brad's computer may have been tampered with while in the possession of the Cary Police Department, and at the very least was mishandled by the CPD to the point that anything or nothing can be believed; ditto Nancy's Blackberry; a neighbor said that he and Nancy may or may not have had sex about nine months before the younger child was born. How can he not know? They were both very drunk; numerous people who knew Nancy and Brad said that she never expressed fear of him, that they didn't argue in public, that they never heard him raise his voice to her, that even though Nancy was on a budget, neither she nor the girls seemed to lack for anything.

Guilty or innocent? This would be a good time to give the jury a Not Proved option. Without that, at this point neither verdict will surprise me. I would give the edge to guilty, though, because I think that the experts will cancel each other out, the friends and loved ones will neutralize each other, the people who believe they saw Nancy are mistaken, and the jury will be left with means, motive, and opportunity.

TECHNOLOGY TAKES ME HOME

I like being able to tell my GPS, “go home,” assured that it always knows where I am and how to take me to the place I most like to be.

On the other hand, it doesn’t see the point of driving through Westwood when the azaleas are in bloom, or taking Franklin Street—traffic, construction, jaywalkers, and all—just because I like to. GPS is happy with the same few routes as I make my usual passages.

It doesn’t realize that I can’t drive through the building I’m parked in front of to resume its indicated route. That’s when, try as I do not to anthropomorphize it, I can’t help but murmur, poor thing. I turn it off to ease the burden on its recalculating little brain.

Then again, sometimes it gives me a great surprise. I visit a friend who lives almost due west of me, some miles away. To go to her house, I drive south, then west, then north. Not efficient, but that’s what Mapquest told me to do.

I recently went to visit her for the first time since getting my GPS. As I left, I wondered if it might know something Mapquest and I don’t about rural county roads, so I turned it on and told it to “go home.”

The adventure began. Instead of turning left out of her drive, it told me to turn right. I was happy to oblige. By the time we turned into my driveway, it had taken me across Chicken Bridge, through beautiful dairyland and farms, on two dirt roads, past lovely old houses and cabins I would never have found on my own.

So, sweet GPS, we’ll put up with each other and anytime you want to take the back roads, I’m in. Let’s go.

Brad's Voice

I have watched all of the video available on wral.com of Brad's long, long deposition given for the child custody case. The deposition was given on October 2, 2008--less than 3 months after Nancy's death, after Brad has lost custody of his children, and before he was arrested. It lasted all day and was conducted by the attorney Nancy had seen about a legal separation agreement.

Such difficult circumstances. Brad was serious, mostly calm (I'm sure some watchers will feel he was too calm), polite but cool. His facial expressions were limited. His voice was steady. He talked about his affair, his concern for his marriage, his concerns about money. He was understated in talking about Nancy but when asked acknowledged that she cursed at him, that both of them raised voices when they argued. He said that he tried to make her happy by buying her things she wanted but had to draw lines based on his income. He described how he cared for the girls.

The one time that his composure slipped was late-ish in the deposition, when everyone involved must have been tired, when he was talking about the girls. He came near tears and his voice cracked. He fought down the emotion, though. I thought of the people who said that he didn't show what they considered to be proper emotion when Nancy died. It is possible that he has greater ability than most of us to suppress strong emotion.

I was struck by a lot of the questions asked. They seemed much less relevent to a custody case than to a murder case. The attorney present with Brad made frequent and regular objections on that basis but it seems a judge had approved the questions. At one point, they had to get the judge on the phone to instruct him to answer a question.

What I don't know is whether or not the deposition was available to the Cary police, and if so, when. I can't help but wonder if the attorney for Nancy's family was asking questions on behalf of the Cary police. The questions often dovetail with the witnesses we've heard from and with the prosecution's theory of the crime.

Brad said things in the deposition that are at odds with testimony the jury has heard. Nancy's father said that the acquisition of a certain painting was a joint purchase made by Nancy and Brad. Her father also explained how he and his wife had commissioned a piece of art as a gift to Brad, because Brad had admired a similar one. Brad was dismissive of the importance of that second piece, and said that the first painting was something Nancy bought over his objections. I can wonder if the grieving father really knew what discussions had taken place about the purchase and Brad's version is consistent with his full account of Nancy's spending. Brad not acknowledging the importance of the gift to him is curious to me. It is a specific example of an overall impression I got from watching the deposition: Brad may be a person who has little recognition of how others perceive him; further, he may not care or know why he should care.

It is not surprising Nancy's friends and family would present different sides of her than Brad did, and consciously or not, spin their memories and feelings in different directions. Brad had trouble recalling people's names, even when he had worked closely with them. It could have been the stress of the day. Early on, he blanked on the name of his brother's son but remembered it later. We've all done such things in stressful situations, but the failure to recollect names seemed to me to go beyond that. I wondered if he simply didn't care enough to make those people and their names part of the fabric of his life.

And then there is this failure of memory, or lie: several people have told about an incident at the girls' preschool. Brad and Nancy had a fight in parking lot, the the girls present and crying, Nancy crying, and loud voices. He said in the deposition that it didn't happen. He must have realized that the attorney (and the police) already knew that it did happen. Why would he lie about something easily verifiable by people not involved?

The jury is hearing the deposition and they will note all of the contradictions, large and small. They will individually value them. There is still no smoking gun. Is there a smoking deposition?

A Bit of Straw

Still following the Cooper murder trial as best I can on wral.com. I read the tweets about #coopertrial and the people who care to put their opinions forward are largely in agreement with each other that so far, there is no smoking gun. The prosecution has not finished its case, though. They have given us many bits and pieces and a picture may yet emerge that goes beyond reasonable doubt. Friday ended with a cliffhanger: a police officer who had been to the crime scene and noted that straw had been scattered there, probably over recently planted grass seed, also saw straw in the Cooper house. We do not know yet if that straw became evidence. If it did, can it be convincingly connected to the straw at the crime scene? And can it be proven to have come in on Brad Cooper's shoes and not someone else's?

That will become clearer on Monday, I assume. But when (or will) other parts of the puzzle emerge as the bits and pieces are shifted, added to, and perhaps taken away? The tweeters are impatient, declaring the trial a waste of time. I think they are forgetting that the process of gathering, keeping, testing, accounting for, and interpreting evidence is in fact a piecemeal process. No one person can tell the whole story of a bit of straw, regardless of its importance. Or lack thereof.

The tweeters variously declare the Cary police department to be incompetent, an idea that the defense is getting in by any means possible. I haven't come to that conclusion, at least not yet. The investigation was perfect, but is one ever--except on TV?

The tweeters are declaring Nancy's friends to be gossipy busybodies, desperate housewives, and rushers to judgement. Those closest to Nancy blamed Brad for her disappearance within hours of the time she went missing, and they are the ones who called the police and shared their fears. I'm reading more than a tad of sexism in those tweets. Perhaps the tweeters don't understand how strong women's friendship can be.

It is clear that Nancy told a lot of people about her marital problems. Her unhappiness was deep, that's clear to me. And it seems clear that her two little girls spent the first years of their lives in a deeply unhappy home. Now they've lost their mother and their father...no matter what the verdict.

I'm a little bothered by the way Nancy told so many people her story, but the fact that she did tell the same details to a lot of people helps give them veracity. Or have her friends--as I'm sure the defense will say--influenced each other so much that they can't be relied on?

Okay, for the moment lets believe the friends. This is what we've got: Nancy could not work because she was a Canadian and had no work permit. Brad controlled the money and she had no access to funds. At one point, about 6 months before she died, Brad agreed to a separation and she planned to take the children and go to Canada. He changed his mind because of the expense of maintaining two households and because he wouldn't see the girls. Nancy was paranoid and thought he might be tapping the house telephones so she talked only on her cellphone and she kept it with her all the time, even when she ran or worked out. It was found in her car after she died. She wore a diamond pendant necklace all the time, even when she ran or worked out. It was found in the house after she died. A realtor testified that she called him a few days before she died and told him that she had to find a place for herself and the girls to live. I'm sure it will be argued that Brad was emotionally abusive and that the most dangerous time for an abused woman is when she is ready to leave the situation.

I'm eager to hear more about the bit of straw.

Tweets

An aside: WRAL is tweeting about the trial. Go to Twitter and search for #coopertrial. I'm glad, since I can catch up a little that way. Some people who tweet about it are puzzled about why some of us care (or they are annoyed that the wral feed is clogged up). Others have decided Brad is guilty, but so far the people who say the Prosecution hasn't offered any proof yet are outnumbering them.

Lights On Again

I watched a bit of the Cooper trial on wral.com this morning and saw the video tape an investigator took at the Cooper house. The front yard was clean and well-kempt. The back yard had very little grass, was cluttered and messy. Was it even a safe place for two little girls to play? Regardless of the verdict, that contrast between what was on the street and what was out of sight seems like a good metaphor for the lives Nancy and Brad lived.

I saw Nancy's mother, Donna, testify for the Prosecution yesterday. Nancy had let her family know that the marriage was an unhappy one and the last time Donna saw her, she cried and said she just wanted to go home to Canada. She couldn't, because Brad cut off her access to money and had possession of her passport and the children's. Ultimately, we have Nancy's word about the money and the passports. She told friends as well as family the same things and that speaks to its truth but still, it's her word. How will a jury weigh that? I wonder if bank records will be entered to support the assertions?

Donna cried some on the stand but was able to speak clearly and portrayed her family as taking Brad in as one of their own when he first came into their lives. She looked directly at him from the stand. And she told about hugging him after Nancy's body was found. He was stiff, not responsive, and didn't look at her. She looked up under the brim of his cap, into his eyes, and knew in her heart that he had killed her daughter. That was the last thing the jury heard at the end of the day yesterday. No mattert how heartbreaking and powerful a statement like that is, it is not evidence. How will the jury handle that?

I didn't hear the cross examination but it must have been very brief this morning. Court goes into session at 9:30 and by 10:15 or so, police witnesses were back on the stand.

The pacing of the trial is something I think about. So far the prosecution has gone from the almost professional, clinical testimony of police and investigative officers to very emotional testimony from Nancy's friends, back to police, then to Nancy's mother, now back to police. It could be that some witnesses have time constraints and have to be put on the stand when they are free, but I think that the pacing is deliberate.

If Officer A saw an item in the Coopers' house that might be evidence, Crime Scene Investigator B would pick it up, package and label it, pass it on to Officer C who would log it in. If the item is sent for lab tests, it is logged out, logged in at the lab, logged out again...and the report comes later. No one can testify to something he or she does not have firsthand knowledge of, so A, B and C all are called--and maybe someone else besides--to establish who handled the item, how and when. The purpose is to make sure that the thing tested is the thing that Officer A first saw in place.

 Today we learn that Brad Cooper showed investigators a shovel in a creekbed and took them to it. Does this mean anything? Don't know yet. There were cleaning supplies in a bathroom in the house. Does this mean anything? Don't know yet. The dress Nancy wore the night before she died was found to be soiled and that seems to mean it had fecal matter on it, but we don't officially know that. Whatever soiled the dress, does it mean anything? Don't know yet.

The tediousness of getting details into testimony and then revealing what they mean--at least in light of the Prosecution's case--could lull jurors to sleep, or annoy them. Perhaps mixing the vivid and emotional testimony from friends and family is designed to keep them riled up and alert.

Something that could not have been planned: yesterday, before Donna testified, jurors were shown photographs of Nancy's body in the condition in which it was found and one of the jurors was sickened by them. I hope that poor juror was able to sleep last night.

Blackout

The Cooper Trial so far: for the last couple of days, we have had a broadcast blackout because there are undercover officers testifying and their identities are protected. Amanda Lamb is tweeting at #coopertrial. The TV channels can report, and so can the N&O, so I am keeping up as best I can. I like to watch the actual testimony, to hear and see what the jury hears and sees, so I'm restless. I suppose it is good for everything else in my life that I'm limited a bit! But I have managed to do most of my tax returns while the trial has been on wral.com and my multitasking skills are good.

Before the blackout, the man who found Nancy Cooper's body while walking his dog, his wife, officers who were first-responders, and several friends and neighbors of the Coopers testified. The Prosecution chose to begin with finding the body followed by the some professional matter-of-factness, and then move to the emotional and personal.

The direct examinations were lengthy and painted a picture of the marriage that was coming apart. Nancy and Brad were on the verge of divorce. She had almost left Cary with the children several months before she died, planning to go home to Canada. The neighbors had even planned a going away party, titled "The Saddest Party Ever." But she stayed. Various people who knew Nancy well said that she had started carrying her passport, and the children's, and other documents in her car. Brad found them, it is said, and took possession of them. Money was an issue, and perhaps a reason for him to declare that his wife and children could not leave. Or perhaps he did not want to be so far from his daughters and perhaps he wanted to try one more time to make a life with Nancy. The Defense put those options forward in his opening statement.

Nancy went missing on a Saturday morning. Brad told people that she went jogging and didn't come home. The night before, they were both at a neighborhood party. Other party guests testified that Nancy arrived early with the girls. Brad came later. They argued. He took the girls home to bed and she stayed several hours longer. It seems that Nancy was not shy about telling friends her marriage was miserable and that there were times when she hated Brad. Of course, many people will confide in friends when under such stress. She was upset enough, or open enough, or thoughtless enough, or had had enough wine, to tell a stranger at the party, too. That stranger took it so seriously, she remarked to her husband that something bad was going to happen in the Coopers' house.

When Nancy's friends figured out that she was missing, early that Saturday afternoon, one of them called the police. There were tears among them as they gathered in front of the Coopers' house. On the stand, they were not shy to say that their first thoughts--individually and together--were that if something had happened to Nancy, Brad did it. They told the police of their fears and all about the troubled marriage, too.

The Defense has already posited that the Cary police made their minds up early and never investigated any theories other than "Brad did it." In my opinion, that seems to be true. That may be the right conclusion, but was it arrived at in the right way? The police and the Prosecution must be held to a high level of behavior, of judgement, and must be above reproach.

According to Amanda Lamb's tweets this afternoon, the Defense challenged the undercover officer who is testifying about his thoroughness. The officer said that he had investigated every lead. He talked to 16 people who reported seeing someone who could have been Nancy out jogging; none of them could be certain.

A police detective testified that he believed Brad killed Nancy after midnight, when she returned home from the party and dumped her body where it was found, more than 3 miles from their house. Her body was nude, except the a sports bra pulled out of place. To me, if Brad did kill her, leaving her exposed that way--perhaps even undressing her and putting the bra on her--is horrible to contemplate.

This is not by any means a complete summary of the week's testimony, and I am hopeful that the undercover officers will be done soon, so the blackout will be over. Let me end by telling you what makes me very uncomfortable although it is also a common thing. Nancy's friends and the police found Brad's reactions to be lacking, and they judged him for that. I do not believe that there is a "proper" or "correct" way to act when confronted with tragedy and I do not believe that these judgements are in any way evidence. I wish judges did not permit them to be voiced. Think this would disqualify me from jury duty?

Reasonable Doubts

Murder fascinates me. I am not alone, or true crime writers wouldn't make best seller lists so often. Miss Marple and Sherlock Holmes wouldn't have the hold on popular imagination that they have had for decades. It isn't necessary to explain my fascination, except perhaps to myself. I can trace it back to a murder that happened in Chapel Hill when I was 12. (See my blog, http://frankandlucille.blogspot.com/ to read about it.) But there is more to it, too.

I live for stories. I tell them, write them, listen to them, read them. For me, it is storytelling that makes us human. A murder investigation, trial and verdict have all the elements of great storytelling.

I remember the good old days when CourtTV provided live and full coverage of the OJ trial and the Mendendez brothers. Since those were in California, I could get home from work and still watch the afternoon sessions as they happened. I saw the glove that didn't fit, I saw the brothers break down while describing their cruel father. And the CTV evening programing was a recap of the day for the poor souls who had lives. It was great drama, and it led me to understand that our legal process teaches us to understand our society and human nature, to empathize with victims, survivors, and sometimes even the murderer. In my opinion, that last part--seeing the humanity in someone who has done something horrible--is what puts this kind of story-telling on a par with the greatest classics in literature.

Domestic cases are the ones that capture my imagination, draw me in and hook me. Yesterday, a local murder trial began. Brad Cooper is accused of murdering his wife, Nancy. It took more than 7 days to seat a jury of 12 plus 4 alternates, because the case has received so much publicity here. Brad and Nancy have 2 little girls. When Nancy went missing, and after her body was found, news media were full of photos of a good looking young woman with a great smile and her sweet daughters, sometimes with and sometimes without the husband and daddy now on trial. It's hard to say which are more poignant.

Nancy had good friends who loved her, and who were quick to tag Brad as her killer. They talked about troubles in the Coopers' marriage. They knew that Brad had been unfaithful. They spoke of abusive, controlling behavior on Brad's part. They started a charity in Nancy's name, to benefit women who are victims of abuse. The Court awarded custody of the little girls to the Rentz family, Nancy's family. I am sure that the general opinion among the public (and I include myself here) leans toward believing Brad is guilty. That's the easy point to get to, the easy story to tell.

But this morning, Howard Kurtz, Brad's attorney, delivered a 2 hour opening statement that must surely open people's minds for reasonable doubt. Mr. Kurtz did not just stand up and say "this is a tragedy, but my client is innocent, and the State can't prove otherwise." He went through the police work and the way the prosecution built its case point-by-point. He told the jury what they would hear, and why it was wrong or faulty. He did not shy away from making Nancy's friends look bad, or from tarnishing Nancy's halo. He managed to raise doubts before a word of testimoney or a shred of evidence is introduced. He absolutely raised the bar the prosecution has to get over before the trial propre begins. He reminded me that the easy story isn't always the true story.

So at this point, I have no opinion. I am wide open. (Not that my opinion matters to anyone except me.) I am just glad to see that the burden is squarely on the prosecution, where it belongs, and I look forward to the next chapter.