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The Preliminary Hearing and Feminist Angst

This past Wednesday was the preliminary hearing for Eunice Bates, the woman who killed Bob. The hearing was ... awful. One of the many times his mother started crying was when they were talking about the autopsy showing heroin in his blood and urine. And then his father, ever stoic, outside, telling me that they never hear from any of his friends anymore. Eunice Bates thought she hit a deer. When she killed Bob, she thought she had hit a deer. The pool of blood was 131 feet from the point of impact ... his bicycle was 67 feet away. And this woman ... as they read new charge after new charge ... homicide by vehicle, involuntary manslaughter, speeding, careless driving, following too closely ... the judge thought she was going to faint -- I thought she was going to faint. I feel just awful for every single person involved, every last one of us. There's no way this will ever turn out well for anyone.

131 feet. I sat at Quiet Storm this afternoon trying to picture just how far 131 feet was. 131 feet from the point of impact to the pool of blood where his body landed. How fast must she have been going to send him flying that far?

Ugh.

So I'll leave you all with my feminist angst:

I got a call today to work on Ambush Makeover. I can't in good conscience take this job, can I? Or do I take the job and find some way to sabotage them? Or does the need for a paycheck trump all the rest?

Comments

bishopjoey
May. 1st, 2004 03:46 am (UTC)
Ditto what the last person said - your presence at these hearings, whether you know it or not, makes a huge difference. The fact that you care enough to be there makes them less alone. And this is a lonely time for them.

Ambush Makeover sounds a little like straight folks taking on the Queer Eye market. Which is sort of sad. Sounds like awful television, but I say run with it. Prace je prace (sorta rhymes with Yahtzee, except the e is short - means work is work - not a proverb or anything, but may be words to live by anyway).
hopita
May. 1st, 2004 06:31 am (UTC)
I wish that were true. Bob's parents hate me. It's all weirdness dating back to his open heart surgery. And it's all my fault. I try to be as respectful as possible, hang back and let them have their space. I only talked to his father this time because I had to walk right past them and we made eye contact. And fat lot of good it did -- I had nothing helpful to say.

H.W.S.R.N. would yell at me for beating myself up and I don't care; in this case their needs ARE more important than mine ... their wishes SHOULD trump everyone else's.
(Anonymous)
Dec. 20th, 2007 04:26 pm (UTC)
bobs parents
You seem to have known my cousin well and we could share some information.Please contact me at dshemelrick@yahoo.com

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