The Fix
They say it takes a village, and never was that truer than when I was preparing to come home. I had declared my intent to return home for Christmas, and I had no idea how much, and how many it would take to move heaven and earth to meet that date. We had a townhouse that consisted mostly of stairs and hallways – less than ideal. We needed to find a bungalow-ish home and renovate it for wheelchair access – all in a self-imposed, completely unreasonable timeframe. It took a village: friends, family, skilled, unskilled. They were sweeping up as I arrived – literally just in time.
Just in time to prepare for what ended up being one of the most challenging aspects of this journey. The criminal court case. Often, we look at circumstances and declare “I would have…”, “you should have…”. It’s easy to play the game from the grandstand. When my day in court finally came, the police report was clear – the driver of the other vehicle, travelling approximately 118kph, lost control and crossed into the oncoming lane. There was no dispute regarding fault – the accused was 100% at fault.
People Were Talking Over Each Other
Thanks to COVID, court proceedings were on conference call – just audio. It was difficult following at times, people talking over each other, rapid exchange of similar voices – people don’t announce their name every time they speak. This was new for everyone – one of the most important days of my life was this court case and they all proceeded like Bambi on ice.
In two separate interactions with the Crown, I was assured no sentencing deal was in place – once in person, secondly in an email. The Crown also emphasized that our impact statements (mine and Lesley’s) would inform and influence sentencing.
Something didn’t seem right though – information on an email to me would vary from another I was cc’d on…things were scattered, vague… I knew there was a problem when I was cc’d on an email that included the Crown statement that the whole process would take about twenty minutes. Hmmm… 20 minutes?
When I questioned this, the Crown replied, “Oh well, I guess we’ll go over, wouldn’t be the first time”. Yup. Something was certainly up. As proceedings began that day… it was like I was back in grade six, watching the kid who never did his homework give a report on a book he never read: “ok, yeah, so The Outsiders… well, they were outside a lot. A lot. And there was a boy and a pony, a pony that liked soda pop – that’s probably why they were outside so much… to, you know, take care of the pony that liked soda pop…so… well…to summarize, outside, boy, pony and outside. So, yeah, thank you.”
I Heard Mistakes and I Could Do Nothing
I heard stumbling and bumbling in court. I grew nervous. I heard mistakes – the Crown read in the wrong facts, the Defense objected.
The Crown then read in the agreed-to-facts, which were so neutered you’d have thought the accused lightly tossed a cotton ball in my direction. I spoke up – but they had my line muted.
I heard the defense suggest there was an agreement in place – a what? They said it was agreed a license suspension would cause undue hardship.
Hardship…
I could feel the pressure building. I could hear my heartbeat, eyes blurred, ears filled with liquid. It was all collapsing around me, I could do nothing.
The Judge knew a sentencing deal was in place.
Defence counsel knew a deal was in place.
The Accused knew a deal was in place.
The Crown knew a deal was in place.
Every principal in that courtroom knew.
Everyone except me.
I was playing in a game everyone else knew was fixed. Then the coup de gras. The judge passed sentence. I sat there, both literally and figuratively muted, waiting to deliver a statement that would “inform and influence” sentencing – a sentence that had already been passed.
Like a rube I entered that virtual courtroom anticipating justice. For two years I waited for justice. For two years I believed in the system.
In mere minutes, it was all gone.
Gone.
Impact Statements are Meant to Mean Something
Indifference and incompetence burned it all down, right down to the ground. Admittedly, most of my legal knowledge comes from Atticus Finch or old episodes of Street Legal, but… wasn’t the impact statement supposed to be before the sentence? Wasn’t it meant to mean something?
The Crown is our representative in court – not just me, all of us. He requested we do impact statements, coached us. He reviewed our statements before the trial.
When it all went pear-shaped, all he could muster was:
“I believe Mr. Lawlor would like to say a few words…”
The judge acknowledged the error, apologized.
Not accepted.
She spoke at length about sentencing constraints; about not wanting to impose an undue burden on the accused.
An undue burden…
Then she said something that stuck with me. It nagged at me, as though I had heard it before.
She said, “I certainly understand your reaction to my decision not to suspend the driver’s lisence here…I’m acutely aware of the limitations of the criminal justice system in situations like this.”
I had heard it before, in my favourite movie – Cool Hand Luke – when the prison guard was putting Luke (undeservedly) in isolation: Boss Paul: Sorry, Luke. I’m just doing my job. You gotta appreciate that.
Luke: Nah – calling it your job don’t make it right, Boss.
At the judge’s insistence, we proceeded with our impact statements.
Lesley’s was thoughtful, authentic. My shining light, as always… she was measured, articulate, impactful. So well written, so forcefully delivered.
Rock star.
I had worked diligently on my statement, but my heart was no longer in it. I delivered it, but meh. It’s hard to get pumped up for an exhibition game – meaningless. I’ve worked to overcome the anger and disappointment, to restore my faith in ‘the system’. I haven’t succeeded in moving on, at least not yet.
Writing about it helps.
Submitted by Andrew Lawlor
Andrew Lawlor is a motorcycle crash survivor. Since July, 2018 he has drawn on the love and support of his family and his community, working to repair body, mind and soul. Andrew knows everyone’s journey is unique, and hopes that fellow survivors might find a new perspective, or encouragement in the stories he tells. The Crash Support Network is thrilled to announce a collaboration with Andrew as he shares his journey through ongoing contributions to our Crash Survivor Blog.
The Crash Support Network is a unique one-of-a-kind website consisting of an online support group, a crash survivor blog, a quarterly newsletter, “Sharing Our Recovery” as well as highly informative articles. Our website is based on relationship-building and puts the needs of survivors first by creating a helpful resource for victims and survivors of motor vehicle crashes.
