Hearing

Courtroom 4A: What a classy, but foreboding place. The beautiful hardwoods, the hefty furnishings, and the regal carved seal on the wall indicate that this is not meant as some short term investment. After taking in the setting, there is little to do other than take in the human drama as it unfolds.


People of all types with vested interests “fiddle” nervously and it is easy to spot the concerned parents and relatives. The courtroom staff is atwitter with things they aren’t making the rest of us privy to. Finally, at exactly 1:30 pm, a dignified gent enters the room followed by the announcement of “The Honorable Judge so and so” and a directive of “all rise.” Court is in session. Little do I know then that I will be sitting here till almost five o’clock. The court works at its own pace.






This is not a jury trial but a hearing before this judge so there are no jurors on which to focus. Security is everywhere and the folks so empowered are serious. I quickly find that out when during a short break I mistakenly walk where I am not allowed. The setting is somewhat intimate but the acoustics are not designed for anyone but the judge to hear. I turn my hearing aids up to the “loud” setting and strain to hear everyone, especially the defendants.






It is a sobering experience when the first shackled prisoners are brought in from a holding area. Even though I’ve worked with prisoners for multiple decades, I’ve had little experience in this part of the process. My exposure has always been meeting with those incarcerated in a setting before or after this process. I’ve heard about “the system,” “Judge so and so” and this procedure for years. However, today is different. I’ve never actually witnessed the look on their faces as they come through the door into the brightly lit courtroom shackled, belted, and guided by stone-faced burly deputies. I can “feel” the slight gasp as concerned folks spot their loved ones in prison garb. It is sobering to say the least.






Most of the issues are parole violations. There is an almost universal thread of drug and alcohol abuse at the core. Drugs seem to pervade the news, but alcohol is silently making a dramatic comeback; especially, among the very young where I least expect it. Perhaps I just left the news of the “new” drug epidemic displace a stealthy old omnipresent monster in my mind. Now, it’s been joined by a high profile twin for a “double whammy”.






There are a few “thousand dollar suits” representing the defendants. Mostly, it is a team of harried public defenders trying to keep up with the overwhelming flow of cases and paperwork. In most cases, the public defenders have little to say and most dialogue is from parental-type parole caseworkers and the defendants themselves. I strained to hear the human drama that today has “come to a head” and the circumstances that led here. It is heart wrenching to say the least especially when the judge permits family members to speak. When one defendant is granted a “last wish” to be hugged by his middle-aged sobbing sister before being led away, I reach for my handkerchief. The parent in me comes out when I see young lady after young lady, the age of my own daughter, with long substance related “rap sheets.” I see the devastation in progress as young adolescent boys and girls are faced with another 23 months without an onsite parent. The actual case that I’ve come to support finally comes to the docket after almost four hours. It lasts perhaps five minutes. The judge is given little flexibility by the law with the defendant’s continuing bad choices. Twenty-three months of this young person’s “free” life slips away in an instant. I am almost embarrassed to turn to see his parent’s ashen faces. I come away with a new admiration of the Solomon-type task this judge faces and how well he reflects human values within the limits permitted by law.






Like so many choices in life, I would never choose to experience this hour after hour heart wrenching drama. (Even all those popular court and crime shows on TV have no appeal to me.) Like you, I have labored to experience the security and shielding of a self-contained suburban setting, social and church agenda, and the insulated resulting life style. However, I have not earned the right to not be my “brother’s keeper.” There is a hurting world of fellow “imperfect” folks that need us and what we represent long before there is a “hearing.” The question is: Do I have my “hearing” aids turned up to hear them before things get so entrenched in a devastating and sadly, often fatal, lifestyle?