Accidental Blessings

An event happened a week ago yesterday that is just now beginning to recede a bit in my mind. 

Our daughter was in a car accident in Virginia.  We live in Florida.  We were sixteen hours away from her.

My husband got the tearful call about 8:30 in the morning.  Our daughter was OK enough to call her dad and then text a close-by relative.  Upon rounding a highway curve, she found traffic stopped and hit the car in front of her.  She swerved to minimize the punch, but then spun around across the road and hit the guard rail on the other side.

I did not see a picture of the her car until the next day, and maybe it was better I didn't, because I know I would have been more scared and tearful than I already was. 

The totaled Nissan

I didn't talk to our daughter for a few hours after the accident, because she had to deal with the police, and then the ER.  My sister-in-law and her husband rushed to the crash site and filled in for us, hugging her and helping her and insisting she take the drugs the ER doc gave her.   She had no broken bones, just bruises and a seat belt mark on her neck.  When I look at the car pictures, I am still amazed and so grateful she did not have more injuries.

Front View

By the grace of God, I keep thinking.  Our daughter credits the Nissan Versa for saving her life.  She also credits her guardian angel, whom she calls Patient Steve.   

I finally talked to our girl, who assured me she was fine, just sore, but so "proud" of her car.  She was thankful there was no other traffic on the road.  So grateful she did not hurt anyone (the woman in the car she did hit was fine, and her car did not have nearly the damage the Nissan sustained.)

Our daughter was grateful there was a policeman just a few cars behind her.  She was so grateful her accident occurred in VA near family and not in Canada, or Pennsylvania, from where she had just traveled.  She was grateful she has insurance, grateful for the Vicodin that helped her through the next three days, grateful for her wonderful aunt and uncle who hovered over her with love and concern.

We are grateful for all of that too.

When my brother (the ex-clown who lives in Maryland) heard of the accident, he called to offer to drive to Virginia to get our girl.  I assured him she was with family, but we did need to get her home somehow.  He offered to bring her to South Carolina - we would each drive halfway.  I was so touched by this offer, tears welled in my eyes.  He happened to be on vacation last week and assured me he didn't mind the trip.  This was pure gift.

Forty-eight hours later, we got to hug our daughter at a Baymont Inn and see that she truly was in once piece.

I had that "you're never leaving my sight again" feeling, but luckily for her, it didn't last too long.  I know my children are just on loan to me for awhile...they ultimately belong to God, and He's in charge.

But, man, did I squeeze her.

Since we've been home, the blessings in this trauma have continued to pile up.  She found another car - a Nissan Versa - within three days.  She did not want another brand.  "The Versa saved my life," she reminded us more than once.   Her car insurance actually went down a bit, because this Versa is a few years newer than the old one.   Her car payment is similar, and it fits in the carport of new (for her) house.

Yesterday, she was checked out by and released from the follow-up doctor, and she's ready to move on.  School starts in a few weeks, and already she's tutoring a student in Chemistry.

What a difference a week makes.  A day.  An hour.  Life can change in a minute.  When my mind drifts to what could have been...my heart snaps back to what is.  There are no words to express the gratitude I have for my Virginia sister-in-law and her husband, for my brother, for safe travel to S.C., for no lasting injuries, for GEICO, for Nissan, for good doctors and kind policemen, for every positive detail of this incident.

When bad things happen, some people wonder why God didn't prevent the tragedy, why He "allowed" it.  I'm grateful I know God is good all the time, regardless of circumstances.  Heartache and suffering are part of this life, because people are fallible and insecure and sometimes very foolish.  It's the human condition.  God does promise He will never leave us, and if we trust Him, He will bring good from everything.  Everything.  He also promises that suffering is not the end of the story.

Our daughter said it best when she posted this on facebook a few days ago.

He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new.” Then he said, 
"Write this down, for these words are 
trustworthy and true."         Rev. 21:5










                                                         New Versa

JUROR # 1

I had the privilege and challenge of serving on a jury a few months ago.  I was impressed with how serious the process is.  I was disgusted by how easily the process can be derailed from getting to the truth.  (I wrote in more detail about that experience HERE and HERE.)

The defendant was charged with DUI.  The evidence was indisputable.  The jury had to be unanimous, but the six of us split 4 guilty / 2 not.  After five hours of deliberation, nobody changed their minds.  The judge declared a mistrial, and the defendant was set free.

I was shocked.  In my eyes, the defendant had clearly broken the law.  The two jurors who did not agree argued not that the young man had not driven under the influence, but that the evidence was skewed by the police department.  Almost immediately, we were off track, arguing the role of government, the people vs. the establishment, and whether or not the judge presiding over this case was corrupt.

It was ridiculous.  I learned I don't know enough about our judicial system and neither does the average citizen, five of whom I shared a room with for five hours.  I hope I'm never at the mercy of a jury of my peers.  We're a squirrely lot.

All I can do is pray the young defendant learned a few things too.  Hopefully not to drink and drive.  But, sadly, he might have learned if you distract and confuse the masses, you're home free.

Seeking Justice (part 2)

(....continued from previous post...)

There we sat.  Six jurors who had to agree, and we were at an impasse.  After nearly five hours.

It shouldn't be this difficult, I kept thinking.   Facts are facts.  How can one dispute facts?

That became our next rabbit trail of debate.  Do established laws, tools, procedures need to be accepted?  Do we have to follow the legal framework of the state, even if we don't like it?

The four Gs (guilties) said yes.  Civilized society is based on a structure of laws that apply to everyone.  We can dislike any of them, but until they change, they are the standard by which we all are judged.   This is why being an educated voter is important. 

The two NGs (not guilties) said the law does not have to be accepted and can be challenged.

OK, then.  We had another question for the judge:  Were the laws presented in this case (a speeding limit, a legal drinking limit) facts, or simply evidence we could choose to dismiss?

The judge called us back into the courtroom.  By the look on her face, I'm sure she was thinking, what is wrong with you people?!   She simply reiterated that we had received all the information we were going to receive, and we had to come to a unanimous verdict.   I asked for clarification on what we had to accept as true.  She read us a statute that basically said any evidence presented can be rebutted by other evidence.

That didn't really answer the question, but that's all we got.  Back to the drawing board.

We then discussed whether the validity of the Breathalyzer had been rebutted by any evidence.  We had heard testimony and seen paperwork showing it was reliable and legal.  We heard no testimony, saw no paperwork showing it was not.  The defense attorney talked about its weaknesses, but there were no witnesses or paperwork to show any.  What the attorneys said was not evidence, we were told by the judge.   

The two NGs were still not convinced the Breathalyzer was valid, even though nothing had been shown that proved otherwise.  We sent a final note to the judge:  We're going nowhere with this.

The judge called us back into the courtroom and grilled us one by one:  If you had more time, could this be resolved?  Nope, we all said.  If you slept on it and came back tomorrow with fresh minds, could this be resolved?  Nope, we all said.

She just looked at us for a while, and I felt terrible.  I knew what was coming.

"Do you know how much money will be wasted if I have to declare this a mistrial?" she asked us.

I sat there like a kid in the principal's office.  I didn't know the amount of money wasted, but I knew it was not pennies.   One of the NGs spoke up and declared, "I'm not changing my mind."

The judge stared at her jury another minute.  Waiting.  Hoping we would say, just kidding, send us back to the cellar, we'll figure it out. 

We did not.

The judge looked at the attorneys.  "Do either of you want a mistrial?"

They solemnly shook their heads, and I felt terrible again.  All their time and work down the drain.

"OK, then," said the judge.  "I declare this a mistrial."  She unzipped her robe and sat back.  I can come talk to you now and answer any questions."

We were escorted out and back to our deliberation room.   We didn't talk much while we waited for the judge.  One G did remark to the NGs that they were probably happy with the mistrial outcome.   They both said yes, absolutely, and I realized it was possible they had decided early on a mistrial would be just as acceptable to them as a not guilty.

The judge came in to chat.  Her first question to me was, did I feel my last question was answered? 

I said no and asked again:  Didn't we have to accept the laws presented in this case as fact? 

Her answer surprised me:  No. 

She elaborated:  You can dismiss anything you want to.  You can believe or disbelieve anything you see or hear. 

Even the law?  I said.

Yes, she said.

So, there are no absolutes here?  I pressed.

No, she replied. 

Another NG piped up:  Wait a minute.  A speed limit sign is posted as 45 miles per hour.   You're saying we can choose to ignore that if we want to?  If we don't agree with it?

The judge replied:  You have to obey the law, but you can dispute it.  What if the wrong sign was put up?  What if the sign was vandalized and a different speed was painted on it?  You can believe or disbelieve anything.  For example, how do you know I went to law school?

I stared at her.  That's when things began to get screwy.  If nothing is necessarily "true", how can anything be judged as legal/illegal, right/wrong, safe/unsafe,  hot/cold?   According to this judge, everything was subjective, even the law.   Even whether or not she attended law school. 

I began to feel very disillusioned.  We had not spent all this time debating if the defendant was driving under the influence of alcohol, but whether or not the laws established to determine that are valid.  I wish I'd known that going in, because that's a different question, a philosophical debate.   Four jurors generally trusted the law enforcement framework.  Two jurors did not.  Florida state law had been on trial, not the drinker.  

What happens to the defendant? one NG wanted to know.

He's free, the judge replied.  Nothing was proven.

Not exactly, I thought.  Apparently, if you don't agree with a law and you find at least one juror who sides with you, it's likely you won't be subject to that law.  In my view, that was proven.   

The judge thanked us for our time and released us.  I drove home feeling a mix of naive, stupid, and crazy.  And somehow, sad.  I assumed we were a nation of laws that we all accepted as, well, "the rule of law."   I was not aware the law was on trial at every trial.  Maybe I should have paid more attention during Civics class in high school.   

Before being Juror #1, I was fairly confident the judicial system's goal was to discover the truth.  Determine the facts of what happened and weigh that against the laws in place.   Were laws broken, or not? 

I've now learned laws are subject to interpretation and whim, and if you're savvy/determined/lucky enough, you can wiggle your way out of anything.

Is this as unsettling to you as it is to me?  

Seeking Justice (part 1)

 

I've been out of the loop this week because I was summoned to jury duty and then chosen to serve on a jury for a DUI trial.  I have never served on a jury before, and initially, I dreaded it, but soon found it fascinating.  And a huge eye-opener.

My mind and emotions traveled quite a journey over the course of the trial, and it surprised me how passionate I became about what I perceived as truth and untruth.  I also realized how ignorant I was about our judicial system.  My fellow jury members were ignorant as well.  This is not a good thing.

Let me say up front, I had sympathy for the young man charged with driving under the influence.  He seemed sincerely shaken up by the charge, and he presented himself fairly well on the witness stand.

However....his blood alcohol level was above the legal limit.  For me, that was the deciding factor.  The defense team wanted us to consider other factors:

1.  It was his first offense.
2.  He initially cooperated with police.  (He later lied about the drinking.)
3.  He was a hard worker in construction and could not afford to lose his license.
4.  His red, watery eyes were due to debris he is constantly exposed to on his job.
5.  He did not do too terribly bad on the field sobriety test.
6.  He was new to the area and was drinking with people he didn't know well.
7.  He had no one accompany him to his trial; no parents, siblings, friends.

In my eyes, those were considerations for the judge during sentencing.  They didn't matter in determining whether or not he was driving impaired due to alcohol.   This was the only question we had to answer: Was he driving under the influence?

It seemed simple to me.  He was driving  (We saw video.)  His blood alcohol level was over the legal limit.  (The Breathalyzer proved this.)  Done. 

How naive I was.

After two days of testimony, we began deliberations.  Immediately, there was division.  Four "guilty," two "not guilty."  

The four Gs (guilties) were stunned.  How can you rebut the Breathalyzer? we asked.   Here's what we heard from the two NGs (not guilties):

1.  Those machines don't work.
2.  Those machines can be fixed.
3.  DUIs are money machines for the the police department.  Do you know how much money they bring in from fees from DUI charges?
4.  The guy didn't look drunk.  
5.  It doesn't matter that he lied.  He was scared.
6.  The cop followed the defendant to his apartment building.  The guy was home.  Even if he was drunk, he wasn't going to drive anymore. 
7.  And all seven points above.

The four G's went over all of these factors, stressing what the judge had told us - sympathy for the defendant was not to play into our decision, and we had to decide based only on the evidence presented.

A third of what was presented was proof that the Breathalyzer is a legal, credible law enforcement tool in the state of Florida.  It's inspected regularly, certified, stamped, cleaned, whatever, monthly and annually.  We saw all the paperwork verifying this and heard testimony from an officer in charge of the Breathalyzer.

The NGs didn't buy it.  Didn't care.  The machine is corrupt, and without an illegal blood alcohol reading, the guy is not guilty.  They were not budging.

OK, then.  We sent a note to the judge:  We are deadlocked.

She wrote back:  Keep deliberating. 

We rehashed it some more.  The same points.  A few people got irritated.  Nothing changed.  After an hour, we sent another note to the judge:  We are still stuck.

She called us back to the courtroom and instructed each of us to think about the weakest point of our position and share that with the group.  That should spark new dialogue.  I thought this was a good idea.

Back in the deliberation room, I went first.  I conceded that the defendant was not fall-down drunk.  That didn't mean his brain was not impaired.  I agreed the defense attorney was good at creating doubt, creating sympathy, but I could not get past the Breathalyzer results.

The rest of the Gs examined their decision.  The two NGs announced they didn't have any weaknesses in their position.   I remarked that not playing Devil's advocate to their own position did not do justice to the process, that we all needed to examine our vote, even look at what we would have to see to change our vote.   One NG then responded that a blood test (for blood alcohol content) could change her vote, but we didn't have that, so it was irrelevant. 

OK, then.   We sent another note to the judge:  We are still at an impasse. 

The judge ordered us pizza for dinner and left us alone for another hour. 

We ate pizza and griped about not having our phones, which were taken, and then veered off onto non-trial subjects like local restaurants and the judge's spongy shoes.  I picked up my Time magazine and read for a bit.  I felt uneasy and began to pray the truth would be revealed to all of us.  I briefly considered changing my vote.  Could I live with that?  I didn't think so.  Even if I changed, we were still not unanimous.  We had to be unanimous. 

We had been deliberating four hours, and I didn't see any resolution. 

(conclusion in my next post....I'm still processing it.)

By the GRACE of GOD

This Thanksgiving, I'm grateful for many things.  

1.  My folks are not in the hospital.  

2.  We gained a new daughter-in-law recently.  

3.  We've been couponing since August, which has enabled us to stretch our dough and regularly donate goods to the needy.  

4.  We bought the final season of LOST this year, so now I can return to the island whenever I want to.  

5.  There's a very nice cop in town named Officer Miller.   

I know this, because I got pulled over a few days ago.  

I wasn't really speeding, as the speed limit was 35.  I was going 35.  The problem was that I was in a school zone, and, yep, it was school-zone time.  I was just tooling along, singing to the radio.

When the cop waved me over (he was standing in the street), I thought, Hmm, must be a problem at the high school.   My brain was out to breakfast. 

My daughter, who was in the passenger seat, said, "Were you speeding, Mom?  It's probably the school-zone thing." 

Well, yes, it was.  How embarrassing.  And stupid.  

The cop was friendly, Officer Miller.  He peered in the window and, spying my girl, said, "Dropping her off at school?"

My daughter kind of chuckled and said, "Oh no.  I'm a teacher."

I handed him my license and registration.  "We were just going to the gym," I added, like that would explain anything. 

"Where do you teach?" he asked my daughter.

"I used to teach at MCC (Melbourne Central Catholic)," she replied.  "But, I'm taking some time off, because...I'm in formation to become a nun."

Scribbling down all my personal information, the cop replied, "My daughter's thinking about becoming a nun."

I had been sitting meekly while they chatted past me.  Now, my head whipped to the cop.  I've never met anyone else whose daughter was considering the religious life. 

"Really?" my daughter said. 

"Does she go to MCC?" I asked. 

"No," he replied.  "She goes here.  She wanted some classes that MCC doesn't offer." 

"That's cool," my daughter said, referring to the nun thing. 

Done writing, Officer Miller said, "I'll be back in a minute, and you can be on your way."

My daughter and I were quiet for a minute.

"Wow," I murmured.  "How weird is that?  His daughter's thinking about becoming a nun."

"A Catholic family," she said.

Officer Miller returned and handed me my paperwork.  "Do you realize you were twenty miles over the limit?" he asked.

"No," I said, humiliated.  "I'm sorry.  I forgot about the school zone."

"We don't usually give warnings at twenty over," he informed me.  "It's just too fast."

"I understand," I said, ready for a $200 dollar ticket, and probably a point or two.  I was already dreading the online traffic school test.

"However," he continued, "considering the conversation we just had - and the fact that you and I share the same birthday - I'm going to let you go with a warning.  Because you seem like the type of person that would learn from a warning."

I was stunned.  "Thank you," I mumbled.  "I am.  I will."

He looked me in the eye.  "Just so you know, the fine for this would have been $459.00, and four points on your record."  He held up four fingers. 

I was shocked.  $459.00!  Four points!

"Oh my..."  I felt even worse.  Like what Julia Roberts said to Dermot Mulroney in My Best Friend's Wedding - pond scum.  And certainly unworthy of Officer Miller's mercy.  "I'm sorry."

"OK, then.  Take it easy.  Be safe."  He sauntered off, this angel-officer.

We sat there for another minute.  I hate driving after an encounter with a cop.  I want to go home and bury my face in the sofa.  "Holey, Moley," I said before I eased away from the curb. 

I don't remember the rest of the conversation with my daughter.  I was in a daze while we drove to the gym.  This incident stuck with me all day.

Twenty miles over the limit sounded terrible.  Like I was racing away from a bank robbery.  $459.00 sounded terrible.  Four points on my record sounded terrible.  The whole thing was awful.  Severe consequences.  For a thoughtless oversight.  No excuse.

By the grace of God, I was stopped by a nice, generous cop who shares my birthday and has a daughter who is open to God's call on her life.

I'm still shaking my head about it.  

It hit me today, if Officer Miller saw my birth date, he saw my weight too.  Just one more tidbit to make me grimace.

This is the yellow "offender's" copy of my warning ticket. 

I'm going to tape it to my windshield, so I will never forget the kindness of a stranger.  And the kindness of God.  And how He sure likes to play with me.

This is certainly my dough-stretcher deal of the week.  No coupon could have saved me $459 dollars.  

I realized something else too.  If you're going to get pulled over, it helps to have an almost-nun in the car.