Never even touched my computer yesterday, I’m afraid. Came home exhausted, sat down for a moment and woke up this morning in a panic because it was already 7:28am. Sorry. Emotional stress can be just as draining as the physical. (Plus the building was evacuated for an earthquake drill, and our courtroom is on the 6th floor.)
Here is the link to the article on yesterday’s hearing – http://www.sgvtribune.com/news/ci_16451211?source=rss_viewed
We saw several bits of video of her interaction with the police, including a rather cold reciting of Neal’s final words “Help me.” We also heard from the coroner who performed the autopsies on Devon and Ian. There was still pineapple in their stomachs from a pizza that had been ordered, and there is quite a lot of debate about how long after consumption the food leaves the stomach. At least I didn’t have to look at the photographs of their opened stomachs with contents the way the jurors did.
As for today’s hearing – well, I lost it at the end. The day started out with testimony from the medical examiner who performed Neal’s autopsy. That was difficult to hear. Such cruelty and violence. Some of the wounds went all the way through his body or neck, others caused skull fractures or damage to internal organs. There were a lot of defensive wounds, including those that severed finger tips and went through the wrist bone. It was sickening, but I made it through to the end, and through most of the other testimony.
What finally got to me was testimony that was being given about blood transfer stains, spatter and so on. The problem wasn’t just the photos of what I knew in my head to be my son’s blood. That just seemed surreal and removed. In one photo, the tail of a stuffed animal was visible, and my friends whispered “Projo’s tail.” I was going to reply, “No, that’s Puff’s tail. He’s bigger.” That thought put me over the edge. That one thought about a familiar toy drove home the awful reality like nothing else could. I was looking at the home my son lived in with his family, and someone was using a laser pointer to point out various kinds of blood stain. And, all the while, on every side, was a familiar toy or a favorite blanket or piece of child’s artwork or the baby gate that Ian broke, but wasn’t thrown away because of all the money that Ian had inserted in the crack as though it was a bank. I just couldn’t deal with it anymore, and had to leave the courtroom so that I could cry hysterically with out unduly influencing the jury. Sometimes our system sucks. Monkey