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MY JOURNEY INTO THE PAST

(Part 1 of 2)

My fiancé and I went to a matinee the other day. We enjoy watching movies together. “The   big screen” is reserved for the titles we expect are the best. I was drawn to the tale from previews. It was,

“The Law-Abiding Citizen.”

The story opened with a spiraling and lifting dramatic panning of a city I recognized immediately as Philadelphia, Pa. The movie’s “life’s not fair” theme was direct from the offset. A man was at home with his wife and daughter, peacefully enjoying his hobby. Two men broke into his house, wounded him, raped and killed his wife and murdered his little daughter.

I don’t like gory movies and was beginning to think I had made a mistake in my choice.  After the first half hour, I knew I made a mistake but was riveted. It wasn’t the violence that held me. It was the unraveling plot that pulled me back to a nightmare I lived through a few years ago. In Philadelphia, the same city where the movie was set, I experienced my horrific introduction to the workings of the corrupt judicial system which presided over the case of my daughter’s murderers. 

In 2003 my daughter was hit and killed by two drunk drivers. After her funeral, I attended the trial of her killers. (You may remember how I found out the prosecution is done by the system, the district attorney’s office and not by the family and their lawyers.)

What I learned when I had to deal with the DA’s office and the prosecutorial system was not good. For example, I can be sitting quietly on my porch talking to a girlfriend on a lazy afternoon. A strange man can pull up in his car, exit, and approach my friend sitting in the porch swing next to me. He can shoot my friend point blank killing her on the spot. This murderer can calmly tell me his name, address, phone number, the caliber of the weapon, and ask if you want to take pictures, fingerprints or anything else. 

I can gather all evidence you want, but I can not do a blessed thing with it or against that man. I can not hire a lawyer to prosecute or submit my evidence. In fact, I can not even testify at the hearing or trial — unless I am so requested by the DA’s office.  The entire process is driven by the appointed court lawyers, judges, and if it ever comes to it, a jury.

In “The Law-Abiding Citizen,” I watched the victim begin to experience the same unfairness. The injured man stood in the shadows of grief and watched in horror as his family’s killer made a deal with the district attorney’s office. This pact was known to the presiding judge and the killer accepted the bargain. The rapist and murderer got three years in prison and an early release. His partner-in-crime had stood by the door and watched the rape/ murder. That man got execution by lethal injection because of the deal his partner had made.

The killer testified against his accomplice.

(To be continued April ’10)

 CaT (Jan.’10) says, “Just when I thought it safe to go to the movies to be entertained, I had again felt the pain, the horror and the sadness of my daughter’s death.”

**

LOTTE’S JOURNALS

Following is the conclusion of Lotte’s most recent medical journey with Uncle Jerry.

 January 20, 2010               

            Uncle Jerry was kicked out of the rehab due to insurance non-coverage.  Have been fighting with Medicare. He needs physical therapy! They will not cover. Now, I am appealing to another ‘independent agency of Medicare.’                                   

The doctors want him to have physical therapy. Meantime, I do exercising with him.

Had to hire three private home health care aids to assist me with Uncle Jerry — shaving, bathing, get him dressed and out of bed into his wheelchair. 

Have to keep working in order to pay for this service.              

            Friday, we are moving to a different apartment, which is handicapped equipped. 

**

 February 2, 2010                  

            So upset with the choice I made.  The new handicapped apartment is a total disaster. No closets to speak of. Everything is packed in large Ziploc bags. Like living in a shelter.                       

 I cannot blame Uncle Jerry, although I couldn’t leave the rehab without him calling me every five minutes. (He was fine as long as I was there…) The management pressured me in taking this disastrous apartment and it cost me a lot of wasted money. Meantime, whenever I have a moment I write letters to

other Senior Citizens apartments.          

            There is an organization (non-profit) supporting me in my claim with Medicare, They are fighting to get him physical therapy for an extended time. Even the doctors are proud that I am pursuing this matter. They said, “Go! Beat the heck out of Medicare.  You will succeed.” I have lost the first two appeals and now I am going for the third level.

I have written to our congressman and asked if he could assist us in finding another place to live. We will find another place.

Our lawyer came by and he is filing a lawsuit against the management where Uncle Jerry tripped and fractured his left kneecap.         

Uncle Jerry keeps telling me, “We make the best of a bad situation.” He is right.                 

He is still in a wheelchair and his spirits are so high.  It is amazing.  

**

February 6, 2010               

Uncle Jerry is doing great. His spirits are high and he is able to find humor in a bad situation. I love him for that.

            The kids in school were out of control. Didn’t listen. They all wrote apology letters, some of them couldn’t spell even if their lives were hanging in the balance. For the time being, I am not doing the PM school. Waiting ‘til Uncle Jerry is able to walk. Hopefully, by May or June.  I pray.

            Weather people had a stern warning out regarding the upcoming snow blizzard. When we woke up, there was not one snowflake on the ground.

It made me happy.

Lotte deRoy (Mar.’10) adds, “Uncle Jerry is doing really great as long as he listens to me. Many senior citizen housings already responded to my request. Sadly, there is either a long waiting list or I cannot move in with him. Meanwhile, I take care of him, because I am still working — though I make a hard living. ”

**

ONE BRAVE THING

The brave thing I will take credit for is learning to ice skate at the age of thirty-seven. First, I signed up for group lessons and went from that to private lessons in a figure skating club.  It was there that I found that I loved ice dancing and teamed up with a partner. My partner wanted us to attend a weekend of ice dancing in Toronto.  I had to give up my fear of looking like a jerk among more experienced ice-dancers but finally I agreed to go. 

The rink was in downtown Toronto and dedicated only to figure skating so it was totally different than the usual hockey rink look I was used to.  There were no boards separating the edges from the ice.  Large mirrors reflected the skaters at one end of the rink.  An organist played the dance music on a ringside organ. It was similar to being on a dance floor with couples all doing the same dance but in prescribed patterns. 

We skated Friday evening, most of Saturday, and again Sunday morning. Friday evening after skating, a cocktail party was held in a lovely room in the same building as the rink. On Saturday evening there was a dinner party at our hotel followed by ballroom dancing.  The final event was an elegant luncheon after the skating sessions ended.

We attended four such weekends over the years.  I am grateful that I had the courage to start skating and that I was able to keep at it for twenty-six years. 

Louise  (Feb. ’10) adds, “I read all the time. I just finished a memoir called Merle’s Door, Lessons from a  Free-thinking Dog by Ted Kerasote. Merle is a rescued dog. When I got to the last chapter, I began to cry — sob actually. I can’t remember when I last cried like that. It is a beautiful book. Now I am reading, The Elegance of the Hedgehog translated from French and wonderful. It is a stretch for me, more intellectual than I usually choose. I sometimes need a dictionary, but I want to be ready to discuss it with my book club back home.”