J. Elliot

"If you aren't at the point in your life where you can take strength from a higher power, I'll give you some of mine."

It's not often we meet people in our lives that truly put forth an effort to give us encouragement when we are at our lowest point. The quote above is taken from an email someone sent me a few days ago in response to one of my blog posts. I read the email over, and everytime I read it, I learned something new. There was something in it that made me feel as though I was reading it for the first time, and it gave me more hope than what I had imagined over the past two years. It isn't everyday that I come across people who I admire or have the utmost respect for. Outside of a few family members who I trust, I have only placed Tara and Mrs. Johnson on a high pedestal setting them apart from everyone else. So this post is for J. Elliot. I know that I haven't been the most talkative, and I am sure there are other people you assist that may be easier to get through to. But I promise, I will gladly take some of your strength and work with you as a team. Thank you for all that you have said and done.

People come and go
But Angels never leave
They're always around
To give us that boost
Of confidence we need
And though at times
My faith is challenged
One thing remains true
I will always be thankful
To God
To talk to an Angel like you

Perception Of Strength

As a prosecutor it is customary for us to have photographs of the crime scene in our files. Once I moved to the homicide unit, I knew I had to brace myself for what I would find in my files. There are photographs in my files that I wouldn't want to share with anybody. But this post isn't about how those pictures affect me. Until I moved to the homicide unit, I didn't think twice about showing scene photo's to victims or their families. The first time I was asked to view scene photo's was at the request of the aunt of a victim. This case involved a young woman who was killed by her boyfriend. The two had been arguing in front of their one year old child, and they began to fight. He began to choke her eventually killing her. Hours passed, and he drove her body in the car to a secluded place. A nearby business had a surveillance tape that captured him on camera getting out of the car, and setting it on fire. The pictures included snapshots of the victims' corpse. All that was left was a skeleton. I practically begged the victims' aunt not to look at the pictures, but she insisted. She had a picture of the victim, and I told her that the person in the picture she has is the person she should see when she thinks of her neice. Seeing her remains would permanently be marked in her memory. She continued to insist so I let her view the pictures. There was such disbelief and pain on her face. She walked off and out of the courtroom.

This past week, I had two visitors. The first one was the stepmother of a victim who was shot and killed during an armed robbery on the lakefront about four or five years ago. She and I talked and as I was going through the file she asked if I had pictures. I looked up at her and told her she didn't want to do that. I talked her out of it because I knew it would hurt her and I didn't want it to cause her to cry more than what she already has. I think I more so talked her out of it because she is a woman and may not be strong enough to endure it. She kept a smile of hope on her face, and indicated she was glad she spoke with me.

The second one was the stepfather of a victim who too was shot and killed while he was talking to someone else. The victim was seated in the driver seat of the car and sustained a gunshot wound to the back of his head and his brains were on the passenger seat of the car. The person he was talking to refused to testify, and so I had to refuse the charge. The stepfather was trying to get his car back, and we were going through the paperwork process. As I was going through the file, he asked if I had any pictures. Again I looked up at him and told him he didn't want to see the pictures. He said he needed closure and seeing the pictures would help him say goodbye considering it was a closed casket funeral. Because he was a man, I figured he would be able to get through it. I was wrong. He cried as he viewed the pictures and I apologized for letting him see them. He asked if the car would be in the same condition as it was in the pictures. I told him yes, and he no longer wanted the car.

I realized from those two situations that strength has no gender. It is a trait that some have more or less than others. No two people express their strengths the same way. But what I also learned was that crying has absolutely nothing to do with strength or weakness. It is a natural reaction to what causes our pain. And in more ways than one, it gave me something to think about on a more personal level.

See All Evil, Speak No Evil

This is a public service announcement sponsored by the good folks who fight hard for justice on a daily basis only to be publicly humiliated on a daily basis. To the citizens of this city who refuse to come forward and testify against murderers, this is dedicated to you. I don't want to hear another fucking comment about why the DA's office "just let the killer go free." Here are five reasons why you should continue to keep your mouth shut:

1. If you don't want to testify about what you saw while the shooting was taking place, then don't complain when the motherfucker back on the fucking street.

2. If you don't have a law degree, don't ask me to explain to you why we can't prosecute the case with the weapon only. Guns can't take the stand in court and say that the defendant squeezed its trigger and killed the victim. I need more than physical evidence jackass.

3. If you've never practiced criminal law or don't have a law degree, then don't tell me how to do my fucking job.

4. I don't want to hear shit about anything that start with, "Well I heard that what really had happened was...", and you have nothing credible to substantiate this bullshit (legal translation--hearsay which isn't allowed at trial) you want me to waste time looking into. I don't investigate cases.

And the most important one of all...

5. When I call your ass to inform you of the court dates and that you will be needed to testify, don't say to me, "Well I ain't know I had to testify in court in front the defendant." Or, "Well the police told me I ain't have to testify." Or, "If I testify, do I get crimestoppers money?" when you know good and so goddamn well your ghetto ass never even called crimestoppers to report who the perpetrator was.

Those are the top five reasons why you bitches who see all this evil, but refuse to speak in court about the evil you witnessed need to shut the fuck up!!!!!

Answer This

Which do you fear most? Do you fear living, or do you fear death? What happens if you fear both? What happens if you want both? People fear the unknown, and truth be told both life and death are unknown. No one can predict tomorrow, and no one knows what death is like until they die. Therefore, there is no one to tell us about the experience of death. What do you do when you wake up in the morning and you don't want to get out of your bed and be amongst people? How do you invite getting to know people when everyone is "suspect" to you? How do you survive in a world where people are so selfish and have no regard for another person's life? How do you feel safe in your own home when you release murderers back on the street due to witnesses fearing being killed if they testify? Why should I have to protect the only witness to a homicide who is known as a drug trafficker just to try and prosecute a notorious murderer in this city? Afterall she was killed while they were trying to kill him. I guess justice is truly blind. Why is it that people with all their fancy degree's are the worst people to be around? Why are people so shallow? I am convinced the only normal people on this earth are babies. Reason being they only know innocense and it isn't until they live day by day, week by week, month by month, year by year, that they become like the rest of us humans. Defiled, tainted, tarnished, scared, vulnerable, manipulative, abused, confused, hurt, insecure, and the list goes on. Today I indicted an 18 year old boy for second degree murder. The victim's father thanked me and cried because that 18 year old boy took away his 25 year old son behind foolishness. I took no pleasure in indicting that child, and I wasn't moved by the tears of the father of the victim. Why? An 18 year old has just wasted his life. A 25 year old man is dead and he left behind two young children who will never know him. That 25 year old victim started the damn fight with the 18 year old defendants' YOUNGER BROTHER. That 25 year old was a menace to society himself. I don't like what I do, but at the same expense I don't want people like that on the street with me. I look at most of my victims and dismiss their death as warranted and justified. Live by the sword, die by the sword. Bottom line is I don't want to leave my house, nor do I feel safe when I'm in my house. So which do you fear most? Do you fear living? Or do you fear death?