Don’t You Dare Breathe!

For the past 4 months I’ve visited my county’s courthouse 6 times. It’s a place where the atmosphere is oppressive, solemn, despondent, and sovereign. Very sovereign. Of course it would be, there’s a pistol wheelin’ cop every 5 feet. And don’t look at them wrong!

Today I had to visit the “Criminal Department” because my son is a CRIMINAL! No, he’s not, he had a car accident and was sited for careless driving. Fines needed to be paid because someone has to pay for this massive piece of cement they just put up including parking garage and more additional parking. Crime is up, need more places for lawyers to park their BMW’s, Mercedes Benz’s and Lexus’.

I parked about 1/4 mile away. So much for their new improved parking accommodations (and on a stone/dirt lot no less). Upon entering the building, this was my first place to start. I had NO idea where to go. As I approached the metal detectors, there were two officers stationed here, checking everyone in. I put my wallet and keys…..whoa, wait, “let me see those”. He examined my key ring. Now, I have my Chrysler Sebring with me because the Exploder is having transmission problems. So the keychain is very, how shall I say…..juvenile. The car is a toy, why not have a fun keychain to go with it. On it is a foam flipflop, my handmade jute keychain with the peace sign,Ford Tempo key fob and my bottle opener.

I will admit it sucks trying to get these into a pocket

They didn’t like my bottle opener. I said, yeah, I might whip it out in case I get a hankering for a beer. They didn’t think that was funny. Can’t please everyone. After they confiscated that, I was directed to the “Criminal Department”. When I found it, there was another officer keeping the peace and as one person left, another was let in. We were lined up in the hallway. Yes, “we” as in more than a dozen of us were paying our dues.

As I leaned against the wall stood in line diligently waiting for my turn, I made some observations.

- Policemen don’t smile. No one in the court house does. No matter how friendly you try to be, they just keep that straight on face.
- If you’re going to make people wait in the hall, at least provide chairs
- You’re treated like a criminal even if you aren’t. Funny thing is people thought I was
paying the fine for something I did.
- I should have worn a little tag that said “I’m here for the fun of it!”
- Everyone in a court room has at least one thing in common: They all did something wrong. Camaraderie makes it all worth while!
- They’re control freaks.
- It’s always a relief to leave.
- Great exercise! I walked at least a half mile today!
- Should have valet parking.
- There’s lots of wasted space!
- Don’t speak unless spoken to.
- Police officers are very patient when it comes to certain people. I do give them props for putting up with some of the riffraff that walks through the doors.

After I left, I retrieved my keys, told them I didn’t have a hankering for a beer, and to excuse the looks of my keychain, that it was a girl thing and thanked the 6’7″ tall officer for holding my deadly weapon of a bottle opener. “Yes, ma’m, we understand”. Yeah, he thinks I’m a total alcoholic probably. Jokes on him. I wasn’t there for me, idiot!

I have at least one more visit to this god forsaken place. It’s a jumpin’ venue, that’s for sure. But I still want to know what goes through someone’s mind when they’re getting dressed in the morning to come to a place of this stature when they show up in pink sweat pants?

My Day In Court

Northampton Country Courthouse. Courtesy of Flickr

Courtrooms are funny places. Not necessarily in hilarity, but in a peculiar kind of way. We’re dealing with a system that’s not only venerable, but still using those moth-eaten, time worn procedures and decor. Yes, decor.

Who designs courtrooms?

I can hear the designer now: “Oh, yes, we’ll hang velvet, olive drab curtains from those tall pillars by the stage area, drape them so they puddle, yes, and tie them back down low. Oh, and those pillars…light teal…and we’ll paint the fresco molding over the palladium windows a darker teal. And that carpeting..it has to go! Keep the pews and desks natural for that distinctive traditional and classic feel.”

I could have done better!

All the ornate carvings on the ends of the pews. The ceilings themselves are over 20 feet high, to give you that imposing, echoing feeling that one shouldn’t raise their voice for more than a whisper. And who has been commissioned to paint each and every judge’s portrait over the years and hang them in the courtroom? The frames alone must be worth the price of Mercedes Benz! All of them sitting their so poignantly and proud as the artist lashed out with his brush and oil paints. I love the way they integrate new technology into the courtroom. All the 18th century pomp and circumstance with microphones and flat screen computer monitors.

As you can surmise, I’ve been in court. No, not me silly, I was there for moral support for someone else. They’ve been working on the Northampton County Courthouse since I moved to the area – 8 years ago! Parking, we were told, is unbelievable so arrive early. We did, 45 minutes ahead of time. After pulling into a small parking lot and realizing there wasn’t any spaces available as well as no exit on the other end, I did a 14 point K turn and headed for the parking garage. Parking was definitely at a premium. Now I have a phobia for these places. SO-I went straight for the parking deck instead. They were working on the parking garage anyway….whew, avoided that catastrophe! As I pulled up the ramp and made a rather sharp left hand turn, I see there are STILL no parking spaces. I swear, every attorney must tell their clients to arrive early to get a parking spot. Like how early? 6am?

I do another 14 point K turn and decide to park on the upper deck. There’s a small, little traffic light next to the ramp. The sign reads “Proceed when light is green”. Well, it was red. I thought I’d be damned if I’m going to sit here and wait for this stupid thing to turn green, and in my non-conformist way I proceeded with caution up the ramp (I wonder if that could be construed as going through a red light?) and straight ahead was a spot and I gunned it. MINE! THIS SPACE IS MINE! GO AWAY! THIS IS MY PARKING SPACE!

We saw others walking and assumed they were going to the courthouse. So we followed. I mean, isn’t that why we’re all here? I didn’t bring a purse with me because I knew they were going to send you through the “machine”. Sure enough, half of the Easton police battalion was on duty to make sure you didn’t bring in knives, machine guns, .45, .33, nail files, glue, shampoo, toothbrushes..etc. I gave them my car keys and a folder. I think they were disappointed.

After finding a seat in this noble chamber with it’s olive green curtains, and teal colored trim, I suddenly felt comfortable. Because everyone in this room all had one thing in common:

They all did something terribly wrong.

And one more thing everyone had in common:

They were all there for DUI.

Let’s have a party! Oh, wait, that’s probably what got you the DUI to begin with. Sorry…..

Upon observing the number of officers, there was one in particular that made me laugh. She was a short, round thing. She did the uniform justice though. Made an announcement as “to not single anyone out, that if you are to converse you are to do so out in the hallway.” I felt a sense of “WTF” from everyone.

We were seated three rows from the front. Two people were already sitting in the front row. They were told by Ms. Rotundo to find other seating as no one was to sit there. There was NO sign what so ever, so naturally more people would sit there, and this rolly polly officer would have to tell them to move, like everyone is suppose to know this? Finally, she just stood in front of the pew instead of reverberating it across the room. I thought to myself, I wonder if she’s this stoic outside the courtroom. What a blast she must be a party!

After the judge arrived and we all stood up and he told us to all sit down, he read some legal stuff and said if you were there for a DUI to proceed to courtroom #2. And that we may journey on down at that time.

I had to giggle to myself again. 99% of the defendants in the pews got up and we all proceeded to courtroom #2. Even the lawyers and attorneys were laughing. I think there were about 6 people left in the pews.

This can only mean one thing:

Northampton County residents like to drink and drive.

These poor souls were the ones that got caught unfortunately.

I could never have a career in law. No matter how lucrative it is, it’s just so staunch and structured. The ambiance is a tad scary. Some of these people might go to jail! That’s an unsettling thought. The County Detention is right next door. Out the courtroom window you can see the tall walls with the barb wired all around. Menacing it is. Scary, definitely.

I hope the only time I have to go to court is for jury duty. And even then I hope they don’t pick me.

My 15 Minutes of Fame. Not How I’d Like To See It.

After my son’s accident, police videos on both the internet and television of the incident surfaced as well as the news article. I understand all that is public knowledge. But when I saw my house number as well as the street address published, I was mortified. I called the local paper where it had appeared and told them of my dissatisfaction of their editing policies.

Doesn’t “edit” mean to revise, change, or correct? The Digital Editor’s excuse? “There may be more than one person with that name.” Are you fucking kidding me?

The police were compassionate enough to inform the local tv news to not disturb us. I was bothered twice at the hospital by the local television station. One point they wanted to know the status, from his mother, on his condition. I told them “he’s ok”. and left it at that. Then they wanted an interview. I declined. That will be short lived though, they will more than likely want to interview us in about a month.

This is not what I want my 15 minutes of fame to be like.

As a matter of fact, I’m not sure what all the hullabaloo is all about. My son rolled his truck. Three very brave and determined officers pulled him from the burning carnage. He was flown to the hospital. He survived. Yes, I’m extremely grateful!

This happens often. We see it on the “COPS” programs, all the patrol car footage of drunk drivers being beligerant, the near misses and not so near misses of accidents and the amazing, such as my son’s accidents seems to be. Stay tuned, it’ll be on one of those shows someday.

Many of my friends can’t believe how calm I am. I’m a mom. I’ve always had this in back of my head that this may happen some day. I was somewhat prepared for that phone call…..I use somewhat loosely.  I did get upset when I saw him in the ICU with a dozen tubes hooked up to him. But I got over it. I had to concentrate on what next. I moved forward.

Again, I’m a mom. My instincts told me he was going to be fine. And I’m happy about that. Everyone is happy about that. And life goes on.

But it doesn’t end there. No one thinks about the aftermath. The insurance inquiries are never ending and very demanding. A questionnaire we received last week was followed up with a “did you receive our questionnaire that we sent you?” this week. Phone calls from the same insurance companies as well as the fire Marshall, helicopter service that medivacced him to the hospital, the VOLUNTEER ambulance squad that just billed us, the hospital itself……it doesn’t end. I don’t mind the calls from friends. They are always welcome.

We’ll be faced with what someone described as “a shoebox of bills” in the mail. And of course, the court appearance that my husband and I will have to go to with our son. He’s going to probably lose his license because his blood alcohol was above the norm and will probably get a speeding fine.

There’s also the trips to the rehab hospital everyday, getting up at 6am to be there. Then outpatient rehab that’ll have to be dealt with. Prescriptions that will have to be filled. Sleepless nights when he comes home from rehab, making sure he’s not up and wandering around or trying to take the neck brace off.

Don’t ask me to get up in front of a crowd and commemorate anyone. Yes, I’ve spoken to the police officer who saved my child’s life already, thanked him profusely. I can’t thank the ICU staff enough for their compassion, attentiveness and words of comfort. Amazing people! Same for the Rehab staff. They are what make this whole ordeal bareable!

My son is alive and recovering nicely. It is remarkable he has come this far in such a short time. But this is no cause to celebrate. My life will be a total hell with the months to come with paper work and belligerent insurance agents as well as the media.

I’m not seeing it. Tell me what all the hullabaloo is all about.

Life On Hold…I won’t be around for awhile…maybe for an update

4:55am 6/26/10

“Hello?”

“Is this the so and so residence? Does a R J live here at this number?”

“Um, yes, and who are you?”

“This is Saint Lukes Hospital calling….”

Yes, this is the phone call every parent fears. The inevitable phone call from a police station or hospital telling you your son or daughter has been involved in a car accident. I received that call this morning.

My son rolled his F150 pickup truck at 2am. Not sure why, but the truck caught fire. Thankfully, First Response was there to pull him out and they medivaced him to the hospital. He is in stable, but critical condition. There is a brain injury and multiple contusions to it as well. His face has many broken bones and his neck has a broken bone as well. Luckily, so far there is no paralysis. It will be a long haul to healing.

As I write this, I should be showering and heading back to the hospital. But I just wanted to let people know that I won’t be blogging too much in the days to come. I may post an update here and there or if something strikes me funny, I’ll write about it.

Hug your kids. Tell them you love them. You never know……………………..