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EXERPTED FROM THE BOOK:

So, you're FED UP with the "Criminal Justice" system too, huh?
by Kathy L. Renbarger


	I know that drunk driving is a year around problem; but, around
    the holidays this escalates.  People who are predisposed to drive
    while intoxicated use the holidays as an additional excuse and
    some people, who would never think of driving after they had been
    drinking during the remainder of the year,  lose their judgement
    from the holiday "festivities."

	I've been told by a number of people who've read  this case in
    my book that they've started to drive after drinking, gotten "cold
    chills" from remembering this story; and decided  to catch a ride
    or call a cab, instead; even though the laws portrayed are not yet
    enacted.  In the hopes that this "case" might have a similar effect
    on a few other people, and maybe save a few lives,   I'm posting it
    during the holiday season.  Feel free to pass it around for others
    to read.  Have a happy, and safe, holiday season...

	If you think the system portrayed in this story would reduce
    crime and prison overcrowding in this country, and prevent a lot
    of heartache, feel free to stop by the Citizens For Effective 
    Justice (CFEJ) web site, located at:
http://www.reducecrime.org/index.html

(Where you can learn more about this proposd system,
find the propsed legislation which would, eventually,
make such a system possible,
and find out what we're doing in the meantime.)

To read the electronic version of the book go to:
HONOR SYSTEM BASED DOWNLOADING and READING

or e-mail me at:fedup@flash.net



	If you wish to print it out, you may do so, provided
    no changes are made to the text (page alignment changes
    are permissible) and this work is attributed to the author
    (Kathy L. Renbarger)  I recommend cutting this top section
    and the blank final page, saving it as a .txt file; then, using
    a 66 line page length, 7 and 73 for the left and right margins.
    Using this format, you'll need 17 pages.  The "do not print
    this line" mark is there to make it easier to do a "cut and 
    paste" -- if you cut through that line, it will put the rest of the
    document into the proper place at the top of the page and should
    place the dashed lines on the bottom line of each page, if you are
    using 0.00 for a top and bottom margin...

	I am currently trying to figure out a way to insert the applicable 
     photos; but, since I'm still something of a novice to HTML, I have 
     yet to find a way to post them without their becoming blurry and 
     distorted.  In the meantime, please refer to the photo block which 
     is available via this link.
	If anyone out there has any suggestions on the best way to do 
     this, I could certainly use some advice...  



     ____________DO__NOT __PRINT__THIS__LINE______________

      From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
      huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

				     107                           CASE 2

				   CASE TWO
				    D.U.I.

	   "Earl Jansen" is a 44-year-old business executive who
      occasionally hits the bars with his clients and colleagues.
	   As Earl is heading home from one of these drinking excursions,
      Highway Patrol troopers observe him weaving in and out of his lane
      and, in general, driving erratically.  Preparing to pull him over,
      the troopers video tape Earl's erratic driving with a unit mounted
      recorder.
	  Upon stopping him, the troopers detect a strong odor resembling
      that of an alcoholic beverage.  They subsequently give him a field
      sobriety test (also video taped), which he fails miserably.  Then,
      they administer an electronically calibrated breathalizer test.
      The calibrations had been recently verified and the trooper
      administering the test is certified and experienced in the use of
      this machine.  The results of this test indicate that Earl has a
      blood alcohol content (B.A.C) of .19.  Based upon this evidence, he
      is arrested for Driving Under the Influence (D.U.I).  He is
      transported and booked into the local jail.
	  Upon completion of a complete criminal history (CCH), it is
      confirmed that he has no prior arrest history.  Earl spends the
      night in jail.  The next morning, he arranges bond and is released
      pending trial.



































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	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

      CASE 2                         108

				PRESENT SYSTEM

	  Due to the amount of evidence against him, Earl's attorney has
      advised him to plead guilty.  He has also told him that, since this
      is his first offense, he has nothing to worry about.
	  Earl shows up to his afternoon court date feeling somewhat
      embarrassed, but not at all worried.  Constantly looking at his
      watch, he grows increasingly annoyed at the delay caused by the
      large docket.  As long as he has had to take the afternoon off, he
      wants to get in a round of golf at the club before dinner.
	  At last, his case is called and Earl thinks, "Finally! I've got
      better things to do with my time than sit around a courtroom with a
      bunch of low lifes..." He steps forward and, when asked for his
      plea, answers, "Guilty, your honor."
	  Earl receives a one year deferral (meaning, in this context, 
      that the conviction will go off his record if he stays out of 
      trouble for one year), a $200 fine (plus court costs), and is
      ordered to perform 40 hours of community service.  His driver's
      license is automatically suspended for 90 days; but, after 30 days,
      he's granted a restricted license, so he can drive to and from
      work.






































      ------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

				     109                           CASE 2

			      FOUR MONTHS LATER
			     (FRIDAY -- DEC. 22)
			    OFFICE CHRISTMAS PARTY

	  Earl still hasn't gotten around to doing his community service,
      he has been "much too busy."
	  Earl finds out that the punch (of which he has consumed quite a
      lot...), has been spiked with vodka.  About half an hour later, the
      party is breaking up, and he decides that it is time to go home.
      He wonders if, maybe, he should either call a cab or else have his
      wife pick him up on her way home from work.  "But," he thinks to
      himself, "I really haven't had all that much, I've been snacking a
      lot, and I don't feel drunk...  They probably didn't put all that
      much vodka in there and, after all, it's a big bowl...  I should be
      able to make it home all right..."
	  Earl finds his keys and starts driving home.  Two miles later,
      he fails to observe a red light and drives through it without
      looking -- smashing into another car which is legally in the
      intersection.
	  Because he is driving a heavy luxury car, equipped with an
      air-bag, he is not seriously injured.  The young woman and her
      three-year-old daughter in the other vehicle (a small compact), are
      not as fortunate.  The mother is pronounced dead at the scene.  The
      child dies two days later (Christmas Eve), at the hospital, from
      injuries she sustained in the crash.


































      ------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

      CASE 2                         110

			       SIX DAYS LATER
			     (THURSDAY, DEC. 28)
				FUNERAL DAY

	  Earl sits in jail facing: revocation of his deferred sentence,
      a second D.U.I (his B.A.C was .12 this time), plus two counts of
      second degree murder.  For the rest of his of his life he'll have
      to live with the knowledge that, due to his decision to drive home,
      two innocent people are now dead and the lives of many more are
      shattered.


	  The husband/father, of Earl's victims, walks out of his house,
      complete with its Christmas tree and unopened packages, walks down
      the sidewalk, and gets into the waiting funeral home limousine.....












































      -------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

				     111                           CASE 2

			       PROPOSED SYSTEM


	  Don has been Earl's attorney, and good friend, for many years.
      Although the work he has previously done for Earl has been in the
      areas of civil and contract law, he has a rather extensive
      background in crivinal law.  He has just had the unpleasant task of
      advising Earl to plead guilty, due to the amount of evidence
      against him.
	  In angry disbelief, Earl clenches the arm of the expensive,
      leather bound chair.  "Don, you're the best lawyer I know! You have
      to believe me, I wasn't drunk! Even if I had been, how could you
      sell me out like this?!? Don't all the years we've been friends
      count for anything? How can you just stand by and tell me to plead
      guilty, knowing what they'll do to me?..."
	  "I really wish I could be of more help to you; but, you just
      haven't left me with anything to work with..."
	  Red-faced, he shouts at Don, "Maybe, I should just fire you and
      take this case to Phil, instead; along with all the business I've
      given you over the years! I hope you did a better a job on those
      contracts I've had you draw up for me!"
	  "Earl, you can hire anyone you want, it won't change
      anything...  They have you dead to rights! We go back many a year
      and I really hate to see you in this situation.  I wish I had
      better news for you; but, I don't.  You're going to have to face
      the bottom line: the only thing fighting this case'll do is
      postpone the inevitable at even greater expense and stress to you.
      You need to talk to your company, and make arrangements to use some
      of that time off which you've been hoarding.  When we go to court
      next week, don't plan on going home for at least two or three
      days..."

	  Earl shows up for his afternoon court date, feeling as though
      he has a cement block in his stomach, and waits with mounting dread
      for his case to be called.  Although it feels like hours, he would
      have preferred it to be have been days...  All too soon, he hears
      his name being called.  He steps forward, Don by his side, and
      when he is asked for his plea, he anxiously responds, "Guilty, your
      honor."
	  The judge looks at the paperwork on the bench, notes the .19
      B.A.C, and explains to Earl that the standard sentence for a first
      offense D.U.I is one-half of the B.A.C.  He further explains that
      he has the discretion to raise or lower the sentence by 1.5 -- with
      a B.A.C of .19 (19) -- the standard sentence would come out to
      9.5, meaning that this particular offense carries a penalty of not
      less than eight, nor more than 11, lashes.  Although Earl had no
      criminal record, the judge feels that the high B.A.C justifies the
      higher sentence; but, he agrees to defer the other three as a part
      of a one year probation (Deferral in this context refers only to
      the sentence and, in no way, implies that the conviction will be
      voided at the end of the deferral period.  A second conviction,
      even many years later, would still be treated as a second
      conviction.) on the conditions that Earl complies with the
      following terms: that he undergo an alcoholism evaluation, that he





      ------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

     CASE 2                         112

      perform 30 hours of community service, and that he not be convicted
      of any other offense during that period.  Earl is also assessed
      court costs.  The judge follows this up by saying, "I trust that
      your attorney has told you -- if this had been your second offense,
      the sentence would have been 19, your third would have carried
      38..." He then explains that the revocation of the deferred portion
      of the sentence will result in it being automatically doubled and
      any portion of the six lashes can be imposed.
	  Before Earl has an opportunity for all of this to sink in, he
      is handcuffed by the waiting deputies and taken to an adjoining
      room.  They search him for weapons and then lead him to a locked
      and guarded room where there are two other people sitting in the
      chairs that line the walls.  A hospital type wristband, bearing his
      name and case number, is placed on his wrist and he is directed to
      go sit with the others.  He starts to try to make small talk with
      the man next to him, to quell his nervousness; but, he's quickly
      informed by the guard that he's not allowed to speak to the other
      prisoners, or they to him.  He sits there fidgeting tensely.  His
      cuffed hands keep trembling and he can't seem to find anything to
      do with them.
	  As the afternoon progresses, seven more prisoners are brought
      in from various courts.  Earl feels uncomfortable in this diverse
      and rather motley group; but, seeing his own fear mirrored in their
      eyes, he must wrestle with the knowledge that he, too, is sitting
      here because he broke the law...  "But! I didn't hurt anyone, I've
      never stolen anything in my life, I don't belong here with people
      like these! I wasn't even all that drunk, I should have held out
      and taken my chances pleading not guilty..."
	  The clock on the wall continues its slow steady crawl around
      its face, as Earl fights to distract himself from his surroundings
      and his upcoming fate -- none too successfully.  He still can't
      fully believe that all of this is really happening to him.
	  By 3 p.m.  all of the court dockets have been completed.  A
      deputy comes in and advises the guards of this fact, giving a
      folder of paperwork to one of the guards, along with copies of
      Earl's video, the video of another drunk driver in the group, and a
      store video of a shop-lifter who had been brought in.  He gets to
      his feet stiffly, when ordered to do so, and struggles to keep hot
      tears in check.  They are led to a garage where the van is waiting
      and, along with extra guards, driven the short distance to the
      local jail (where this county is now carrying out their corporal
      sentences, since they now have so many fewer inmates).  After their
      van pulls into the jail's sallyport, a steel door slams shut behind
      them, they are unloaded and taken, as a group, to another guarded
      waiting room, where they are held until individually called out.
	  As they sit there, they find themselves exchanging anxious
      glances.  Since Earl was the third in, he is also the third one to
      be called out.  When the black-uniformed tech calls his name, Earl
      feels as though he is glued to his seat and it is only with great
      difficulty that he forces himself up and onto his feet, unsure of
      how things will progress from this point...
	  He is led to a processing area where his wrist band is checked
      against his paperwork.  Here, he is processed in and his property
      is signed for.  He has already received a very thorough physical





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	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

				      113                           CASE 2

      prior to going to court, so the one at the jail is somewhat
      perfunctory.  He is then taken to the shower area where he's
      searched even more thoroughly and told to shower.  When he gets
      out, he gets a receipt for his street clothes and a loose fitting,
      two-piece jail uniform.

	  As Earl is led down the long hallway, past steel cell doors
      containing only small windows and tray slots, he feels queazy and
      very, very scared.  The black uniforms of his guards (and everyone
      else who seems to work here) have an even more unnerving effect on
      him and he has to clench his fists tightly to keep them from
      quivering.
	  Stopping in front of one of the doors, one guard opens the door
      and motions him in.  The other releases the grip he has held on
      Earl's arm; but, both remain alert for any sign of resistance.
	  He sighs, looks down at his bare feet for a moment, dejectedly
      takes four short steps forward, and stops.  The door nudges him, as
      it is closed and locked behind him.  Spinning around, as if to dart
      back out, he is met with only steel and glass.  Far too much steel,
      and very little glass...
	  O.K., Earl, put your hands out the slot, and we'll take the
      handcuffs off."
	  He does so, and the cuffs are removed.








			     INSERT "CELL" PHOTO













	  Turning back around, he surveys the small, barren isolation
      cell and feels an absolute panic born of both claustrophobia and
      stark reality settling over him.  "I have closets at home larger
      than this cell..." he thinks aloud.










-------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

       CASE 2                         114

	  He stands there, blankly staring, for nearly five minutes.
      Then, he eyes the bunk suspiciously, wondering about the hygiene of
      the previous occupant.  Thinking back to his own shower and the odd 
      smelling soap which they had given him to use (accompanied by some 
      very clear instructions which had sounded insultingly like delousing
      procedures), Earl decides the bunk should be sanitary.  He tries
      lying down and finds it to be rather lumpy and uncomfortable.  He
      sits up, rubs his face, and, sighing heavily, again wonders how
      this can be happening to someone like himself.

	  Earl has always been something of a time fanatic and his stress
      turns this into almost an obsession.  Though he is very aware of
      the fact that his watch was taken from him in processing (and is
      now locked up with the rest of his property); he keeps, almost
      compulsively, glancing at his wrist -- only to be faced with the
      wrist-band which now resides there instead.
	  Getting up, he searches through the tiny window for a clock,
      but is greeted only by the eyes of another very scared looking man,
      staring back at him from the cell across the hall.









			    INSERT "EYES" PHOTO












	  Finally, a woman of about 25, wearing one of those black
      uniforms, walks by and Earl taps on the glass.
	  She stops and, speaking through the voice-port, asks him what
      he needs.
	  "Can you tell me what time it is?" he asks, almost franticly.
      She glances at her watch and tells him, "It's 4:35, anything else?"
	  He doesn't really want to know the answers to the many
      questions racing through his mind; so, he only answers with, "No...
      Thank you, young lady.
	  Earl sits down on the bunk -- feeling the weight of his world
      crashing in around him.  One part of his mind says, "You knew you
      shouldn't have been driving that night!" While another part argues,
      "But, I wasn't THAT drunk! Besides, I can drive better drunk than
      most people can sober!"
	  While this battle rages in his head, his dinner tray is slid in
      through the panel.  He picks at his food, really much too scared to



      ------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

				      115                           CASE 2

      be very hungry.  Mostly, he just sits there, thinking about all of
      the things that he has heard about how painful corporal punishment
      is and asking himself why he had never really listened.
	  About an hour after dinner, he hears his cell door being
      unlocked.  His pulse jumps and he thinks, "But...  I was told to
      expect to be here at last two or three days! It's already after
      dinner -- surely it's too late...  They couldn't be coming for me
      NOW! Could they?"
	  A pleasant enough looking man in his late thirties, wearing a
      black uniform, with gold "C.C.C.C." emblems on his collar, walks in
      carrying some papers.  Introducing himself as "Jim," he sits down
      on the end of Earl's bunk as the guard (actually, called technician
      or "tech" for short) is relocking the cell door.
	  "Well, Earl," he says, "suppose you explain to me how you got
      yourself into this mess..."
	  Earl begins to explain that he was arrested for drunk driving,
      but Jim cuts him off with, "I KNOW that...  But, WHY were you
      arrested for drunk driving?"
	  Earl launches into an explanation of how the police are always
      "harassing" people along that stretch of road just because there
      were a lot of night clubs in the area.  He complains that they
      SHOULD be out looking for criminals -- instead of harassing
      taxpayers.
	  Jim asks, "So -- you believe that those troopers just stopped
      you at random?"
	  "I know they did, I certainly didn't give them any reason to
      stop me, I wasn't all that drunk, and I was driving just fine!" he
      emphatically insists, his face reddening.
	  Jim gets up, goes to the window, and asks the tech, who is
      waiting outside, to check to see if the video player is available
      yet.  He tells him, "If Dave's finished with it, bring it in here
      along with Earl's tape and tapes four and nine." (Which are two
      extremely graphic tapes of drunk driving crashes.)
	  While they are waiting for the tech to return, Jim advises
      Earl, "Nothing you say at this point will affect your sentence in
      any way.  But, the more honest you can get with yourself in the
      next couple of days, the lower your chances are of finding yourself
      back here -- facing a MUCH rougher sentence..."
	  "It just doesn't seem right, that they would send someone such
      as myself to a place like this!  I'm no criminal, I'm a respected
      business man!"
	  "Let's get one thing straight, right off the bat, Earl, we
      don't care what you are on the outside.  We couldn't care less if
      you're black, white, green, or purple; we don't care whether you're
      rich or poor, a ditch digger or a President, male or female.  None
      of these factors caused you to make the choices which you made, and
      none of them prevented you from making them -- so, they're
      irrelevant.  All that counts, while you're here, is that you're a
      convicted drunk driver, the actions which YOU CHOSE, and the
      choices which you'll make in the future.  All the rest gets checked
      at the door.  If you feel as though you don't belong here, you
      shouldn't have chosen to behave in a manner which would land you
      here." Jim says sternly, putting Earl firmly into his place.






      ------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

       CASE 2                         116

	  Earl's face reddens slightly, partially from irritation at
      being spoken to so bluntly and partially from embarrassment.
      Feeling flustered, he blurts out, "But, I still think the judge
      should have given a person such as myself probation.  It was my
      first offense, I'm an upstanding member of the community and I
      WASN'T all THAT drunk! It's not as though I killed anyone."
	  "I seriously doubt that you were caught the first and only time
      that you ever drove drunk, that might happen once in a million.
      It's true that, before the laws were changed, you probably WOULD
      have just gotten probation on your first conviction.  That WAS the
      way things used to work -- a LOT more people used to be killed by
      drunk drivers, too.  When they changed to corporal punishment and
      made the sentence solely dependent upon the blood alcohol content,
      deaths resulting from drunk driving have gone through the floor.
      While you WERE lucky, THIS TIME, it was strictly a roll of the
      dice.  I read in your file that you're a married man, if your wife
      was killed by a drunk driver, how much would any of the factors
      that you're trying to use for excuses really matter to YOU? All
      that would matter to you would be that she had died because a drunk
      driver had chosen to drive drunk.  You claim that you weren't all
      that drunk, you can't imagine how often I hear that line.  It's
      really rare for someone to realize, or to admit, just how drunk
      they really were.  When you were arrested, your blood alcohol
      content was nearly TWICE the legal limit."
	  The tech returns with the video player and tapes on a cart.
      After putting them inside, he relocks the door, turns on the power
      to the outlet in the cell, and makes the entry, "Outlet hot -- 6:40
      p.m." on the clipboard hanging outside the cell.  (They will log it
      "Off," when they turn it off.)
	  "So...  YOU weren't all that drunk? Do you NORMALLY drive like
      this?" Jim asks, as he starts the tape which was made of Earl's
      erratic driving and miserably failed field sobriety test.
	  Earl's astounded at just HOW badly he had been driving and at
      what an utter fool he had made of himself during the test.  He had
      thought, at the time, that he had done fairly well.  In fact, he
      had almost gotten into an argument with his attorney (who had seen
      this tape) about pleading guilty.  NOW, he fully understood why his
      attorney had considered it to be such damaging evidence against
      him.
	  "Place yourself in those troopers shoes and explain this scene
      to me...  Would YOU consider someone driving in that manner to
      probably be intoxicated?" Jim asks.
	  "Well...  I suppose, I'd have to think that there was probably
      SOMETHING the matter with him...  If that tape hadn't shown my tag
      number, I would have sworn that was just a very similar looking
      car, though..." Earl replies sheepishly, finding it extremely
      uncomfortable to have to view himself so objectively.
	  "Why do you suppose it's considered a crime to drive when
      you're intoxicated?" Jim asks.
	  "I suppose it's because people don't drive quite as well.  I
      always thought I drove better than THAT, though..."
	  Jim snickers sarcasticly and says, "I guess that's ONE way of
      putting it..." and starts the next tape.  This tape, and the one
      following, are full of scenes from alcohol related crashes.  The





      -------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

				      117                           CASE 2

      last one closes with a bloody and sobbing man holding his dead wife
      while the obviously intoxicated driver of the other car tries to
      explain to the officer, "BUT! I haven't had all THAT MUCH to
      drink!"
	  As Jim gets ready to leave, he gives Earl the stack of paper
      and tells him, "It's a pretty good bet you won't get much sleep
      tonight -- so, you might as well put it to good use..."
	  As Earl looks through the assignment, he finds that some of the
      sheets already have headings on them and he has been instructed to:
      1) write at least one page describing how his performance on the
      tape looked to him and how it must have looked to others, 2) write
      at least three pages putting himself in the place of the man (on
      the tape) whose wife had just been killed, 3) write at least three
      pages putting himself in the place of the officer investigating the
      crash, and 4) write at least three pages putting himself into the
      place of THAT drunk driver.  There was also a long list of topics
      suggesting uses for any remaining paper.  These topics all
      pertaine to various aspects of his drinking history and to his
      present predicament.  As his cell door clangs shut, Earl can't help
      thinking about how right Jim had been -- he WASN'T going to be
      getting much sleep tonight...
	  By the time Earl finally dozes off -- many hours later -- he is
      still VERY scared; but, the potential outcomes of his drunk driving
      have overtaken him and he's beginning to feel as though he is
      "getting off light..." He is also finding it extremely difficult to
      blame anyone but himself for the situation he finds himself in.

	  Earl was up well past 4 a.m.  writing and he does not even hear
      his breakfast being slid in.  He wakes with a start, though, when
      he hears his cell door being opened.  As Jim walks in, Earl asks
      him what time it is and Jim tells him, "It's a little past 10 a.m."
	  Earl's surprised and remarks, "I don't remember EVER sleeping
      THIS late!"
	  "You were still writing when the techs made their 4:15 checks.
      So, what all did you get done?"
	  Earl hands him the stack of paper and, as Jim leafs through it,
      he can tell that Earl has done well.  Knowing that he had slept
      through breakfast, Jim tells the tech to bring another one.  He
      tells Earl, "Go over these again, after you finish eating, and see
      if there's anything you would like to add.  Also, I want you to
      write about any 'close calls' you've had over the years when you've
      come close to either getting into an accident or being pulled over
      and arrested.  I'll be back a little later." he tells Earl, then
      leaves him to his writing and his breakfast.

	  Jim is working another case down the aisle which is almost
      ready and that he hopes to make a 1 p.m.  punishment appointment
      with.
	  Earl seems to be progressing pretty fast, so Jim is comfortable
      with telling the tech not to feed him lunch until about two and to
      hold off on his dinner until jim tell him to feed him.  He checks
      the schedule, finds the 7 p.m. slot open, and tentatively pencils
      them in.  He then advises the techs to give Earl his lunch around
      three instead.





      ------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

       CASE 2                         118

	  Around 3:30, Jim come's back to Earl's cell, sits down, and
      tells him to read his assignments to him.  As Earl does so, he
      periodically stops him and discusses items with him.  About 5:30,
      Jim compliments Earl on his work and tells him, "After all this
      work, I'll bet you'd really like a shower."
	  Earl agrees, he has always been in the habit of showering every
      morning.  This, combined with the strong odor of fear, has made
      Earl very uncomfortable with himself.
	  Since it's running so late, Jim changes them to the 7:30 slot,
      which is now open, and hopes that he's right about Earl not giving
      them any trouble.  It's been a long three days and he really hopes
      to be able to get home at a reasonable hour.  "At least, after
      tomorrow, I'll be off for four days -- barring any problems coming
      up with any of my cases." he thinks, as he goes to dinner.
	  Earl is brought back to his cell about 6 p.m.  Shortly
      thereafter, Jim shows up and asks, "Well, Earl, how would you like
      to go home tomorrow evening?"
	  Jim watches as Earl's pupils first expand -- then RAPIDLY
      contract! For a split second, Earl is elated about the prospect of
      getting to go home; but -- suddenly -- he reminds himself, "There
      is MUCH MORE to getting out of THIS place than just paperwork!!!"
      and all traces of elation are replaced with panic.
	  Jim tells him, "Your punishment is scheduled for 7:30.  It's
      about 6:15 right now...  We'll be back for you in about an hour.
      While you're waiting, write about that knot you've got in your gut
      and all the other feelings that are after you right now."
	  As his cell door is closed and locked, all of yesterday's
      terror washes back over him...  He tries to write, but his hands
      are shaking too badly and his feelings are all jumbled up -- with
      fear, guilt, and self-condemnation all racing for first place.
      Fear is rapidly taking the lead!  Every time he hears footsteps, he
      feels as though he is going to jump out of his skin! He thinks,
      "Oh!!! If ONLY I had just called a cab! Or -- better still -- just
      stayed home so it wouldn't even have been a judgement call whether
      or not to have tried to drive home!"
	  "But!" he reminds himself, "That doesn't change the fact that
      you DIDN'T do either one.  Instead, YOU tried to drive home drunk.
      Now, you're HERE, and soon they are going to come for you, take you
      somewhere, and whip you for it!"
	  Part of his mind tries to say, "It's ONLY eight lashes, how bad
      could it be?..." Meanwhile, another part of his mind screams, "Bad
      ENOUGH!"
	  As these thoughts run circles through his mind, Earl is SURE he
      hears footsteps outside in the hallway.
	  Soon, he hears the sound of his cell door being unlocked.  As
      it opens, he sees Jim, and two rather large looking techs, filling
      the small doorway.  With the techs blocking the door, Jim enters
      and tells him, "It's time to go get this over with, Earl."
	  A chill overtakes him and settles in his spine.  Part of him
      desperately wants to run, wants to fight.  The other part knows
      that it would be futile to even try, and just freezes him in place
      on his bunk.
	  Jim tells him, "Earl, I need for you to place your elbows
      together, with your palms facing in toward your face."





      -------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

				      119                           CASE 2

	  When he has a hard time doing it, Jim tells him, "Close your
      eyes, Earl, and take several deep breaths.  I know it'll seem
      backwards to you; but, breathe in through your mouth and out
      through your nose.  That's right.  Now, just keep on breathing like
      that and try it again: elbows together, palms facing towards you...
      Just keep breathing like I told you."
	  This time, Earl finds that he is able to do so; and soon feels
      the clicking of a set of handcuffs, as they snap around his wrists.
      He feels his muscles tighten in unison with the cuffs.
	  Jim tells him, "O.K.  Earl...  Go ahead and open your eyes;
      but, keep breathing the way I told you -- it helps if you just
      barely open your mouth to do it..." and helps Earl onto his feet.
	  Earl has trouble opening his eyes, he has had them squeezed so
      tightly shut, and his knees feel so weak that he's not sure they
      will hold him upright.  All of this seems, somehow, unreal for a
      moment, as he thinks, "How could this be happening to ME?..."
	  Almost as though Jim had heard this screamed thought, he
      answers with, "Because YOU made the decision to go ahead and drive
      even though you had been drinking...  Let's go, Earl..."
	  The walk seems like miles and the ride in the elevator to the
      floor below seems like slow motion; but, all too soon (actually, it
      has taken only a couple of minutes), they are coming up to a closed
      doorway.  Earl's legs feel heavier and heavier as they approach...
	  Jim opens the door and Earl's heels dig into the hall carpet --
      as he sees what looks like a rack of some kind (actually, a 2 foot
      by 10 foot rectangle made of steel, square tubing; with two padded
      wooden panels: the one at the bottom being fixed, the other
      adjustable, leaning against the far wall.  Up to this point, he had
      envisioned an old fashioned "whipping post" -- with a ring or
      something -- such as he had seen in movies.  He doesn't realize
      this device is actually constructed with his safety in mind.  He
      only knows that this apparatus scares him even worse than a post
      would have.  He can tell, just by looking at it, that he won't be
      able to move, once he is strapped onto it.  From the top, dangles
      what appears to be the buckle end of a seat belt -- only THIS one
      has a cover which slides down over the release button...







			     INSERT PHOTO OF RACK
				    rm4cs1














      -------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

       CASE 2                         120


	  Jim gives Earl a moment to pull himself together, then leads
      him through the door.
	  Surveying the room, Earl next sees a young man, in his
      mid-twenties, pushing a cart of medical supplies to within a few
      feet of this nasty looking contraption.  A few feet in the other
      direction is something that look all too much like an over-sized
      hospital gurney.
	  As Jim wraps a velcroed, nylon web type restraint around Earl's
      wrists (Earl now understands the purpose of that seat belt buckle
      -- this restraint was attached to the opposite end...), Earl
      glances franticly around the room for something else -- anything
      else -- to focus his attention on.  And suddenly wishes that he
      HADN'T! For, as he glances around the room, he notices yet another
      man -- calmly wiping something (alcohol) off of a REALLY nasty
      looking, four stranded, black whip...
	  Almost before he can realize quite what is happening to him,
      Earl finds himself being led stone-leggedly across the room and
      leaned forward against that dreaded rack.  As his horrified mind
      screams, "NO!!!" the restraint end is snapped into the buckle and
      the top board is adjusted so that his elbows are just below chin
      height.  Jim slides a bar into a looped area (which was made for
      it) on the front of the strap and instructs him to grasp it tightly
      with his palms facing toward him.  Earl squeezes his eyes tightly
      shut, as he does this, and then even tighter still as the slack is
      drawn out of the nylon webbing, pulling his elbows up to eyebrow
      level.  He feels himself shaking violently as velcroed straps are
      fastened, tightly, beneath each of his knees.  Feeling the top of
      his outfit being pulled up over his head and onto his arms, tears
      overwhelm him.  He desperately wishes he could turn back the clock
      to the point where he had been faced with the choice of whether or
      not to try to drive home.  Unexpectedly, he feels something cold
      being sprayed onto his back and then someone scrubbing, then
      wiping, his back.
	  For Earl, at this point, time seems very distorted and he can't
      really swear whether he has been in this room for five minutes or
      twenty...  All too soon, though, he hears Jim say,"Alright...  He's
      all yours..."
	  First, he hears the squeaking sound of a face shield dropping
      and then an unfamiliar voice says (to a tech), "Call it straight
      up..." After what feels like an eternity (actually less than a
      minute, because this expression means to call "one" when the second
      hand of a watch reaches the 12 o'clock position), he hears one of
      the techs say, "ONE."
	  After an intensely nerve-wracking couple of seconds, he feels a
      wave of searing pain wash across his back from the tender skin just
      outside his left shoulder blade, down, and across to his right
      waist.  This is where he discovers the true function of that bar he
      has been hanging onto -- as he finds himself doing a pull-up on
      it...  About 15 seconds later (they are normally called at 20
      second intervals), he hears the tech call, "TWO."




      -------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

				      121                           CASE 2

	  Earl halfway expects this lash to come from top left to lower
      right also and tries to twist away from it; but, he finds that,
      because of the angle and the leg straps, he cannot do so.  What
      little he is able to twist only makes the second one worse, as it
      falls from top right to lower left...  Again, Earl's feet come up
      off the floor, as he jerks from the sharp sting.  What he does not
      realize is that, every time he pulls himself up, he is both
      exposing some of the fleshy areas along the edges of his back and
      (more importantly) drawing his spine in towards his chest --
      affording it some protection.  Both the angle, of the rack, and the
      leg straps not only prevent him from twisting; but, also, keep him
      from slumping down or hanging from his wrists, which, if he were
      allowed to do so, would produce a rounding of his back.  This
      equipment minimizes the possibility of that happening.
	  All Earl knows -- as the tech calls out, "THREE" -- is that
      another one is coming and it is REALLY going to hurt...  And he's
      right...
	  As it falls from left to right, it lands slightly below the
      first one; but, part of it catches a welt and Earl discovers that
      he had only THOUGHT the first two had hurt.
	  By "FOUR," he's doing a pull-up before the lash even strikes
      him -- only to discover that there are more nerve endings on his
      mid-back than he had ever dreamed possible...  By this point, it
      doesn't even occur to him that his punishment is half over.  At
      "FIVE," he's in too much dread of what the NEXT four will be like.
      He's beginning to catch on to the fact that each lash gets
      progressively worse because of the whipcords striking already
      welted skin.
	  Earl has managed fairly well at keeping quiet up to this point;
      but, the fifth lash prompts a loud yelping gasp, accompanied by
      fairly loud sobs, as it falls almost directly over the first and
      the third, including some skin which had borne the brunt of both.
	  He is just starting to catch his breath, when he hears the tech
      call, "SIX." How just a few seconds could seem SO SHORT and, at the
      same time, SO LONG would have seemed utterly incomprehensible to
      him before today; but, NOW, he understands -- all TOO well...
	  When the sixth lash falls, again bringing his feet off of the
      floor, Earl's breathing becomes almost a pant.  Through the fog of
      pain, he hears Jim's voice reminding him to breathe in deeply,
      through his mouth, and exhale through his nose.  He also hears Jim
      telling him to focus on the moment that had gotten him here, on
      that moment when he had made the decision to try to drive home from
      the bar...  Almost right away, he hears the tech call, "SEVEN."
	  As he tries to follow Jim's instruction to focus on the moment
      which had brought him here, he feels the worst pain yet.  Through
      this pain, he hears Jim telling him,"Focus on that moment, Earl.
      Focus!" He's dimly aware that it is almost over, BUT!!! As the tech
      calls "EIGHT," he feels a mixed sense of both relief and terror
      from the knowledge that this will be the last one; but, that it
      will probably also be the WORST!!!
	  Almost as it falls, he hears Jim's voice reminding him to
      "Focus on that decision!"
	  It takes a few moments for Earl to fully realize that it is
      over, and longer still for him to relax enough for his feet to
      return to the floor.




      -------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

       CASE 2                         122

	  As he slowly regains his senses, he is aware of Jim's hand on
      his arm and Jim's voice telling him to take just a couple of
      minutes or so to imagine that this was his SECOND offense.  He
      would still have about 11 more to go; or, if it was his third --
      about 30!....  Earl can't even IMAGINE what that would be like;
      but, he definitely knows that he NEVER wants to find out!
	  It takes a few moments for Earl to fully realize that it is
      over, and longer still for him to relax enough for his feet to
      return to the floor.
	  They give him a few minutes to mull over that frightening
      scenario, and to get his legs back under him more solidly, before
      unstrapping his legs.  Then, with a tech on each side ready to
      support him, Jim removes the bar, raises the latch cover, and
      pushes the release button.
	  Earl's knees feel weak, but he is still able to walk over to
      the gurney without much assistance.  The techs help him to lie face
      down onto it and the med-tech starts taking his vitals.  After
      removing the thermometer and blood pressure cuff, he tells Earl,
      "Hang on to the end of the gurney.  This is going to be cold and
      it'll probably sting some." He then sprays Earl's back with an
      antibacterial spray and daubs antibiotic ointment onto the few
      places where the skin is nicked.  While the med-tech is working on
      him, Earl, says, "Well, Doc...  I suppose I can kiss off the
      country club pool -- with the scars I'm going to have from THIS,
      right?"
	  He's surprised when he is told, "Oh, maybe for a few days...
      You won't have any scars, though..."
	  "How can anything THAT painful NOT leave scars?" he asks in
      disbelief.
	  The med-tech explains, "The pain comes from the welts; but, it
      takes a lot stiffer a sentence than what you got before the skin is
      broken to the point of scarring."
	  While the med-tech and Earl are talking, Jim takes off the
      restraint.  Earl is then rolled back to his cell, where Jim
      steadies him as he goes back to his bunk and removes the handcuffs.
      After stepping outside for a moment, Jim returns with more paper
      and tells him, "I know you won't feel much like writing tonight;
      but, it's important that you do AT LEAST the first part of this
      TONIGHT -- BEFORE you go to sleep.  First assignment: write a
      letter to yourself to keep in your wallet and read any time you
      have to decide whether or not to drive after you've been drinking.
      After you finish that, write about your entire experience from the
      time you left the bar and decided to drive, up through the time
      when you finish writing.  After you get out, I want you to make a
      copy of this one to keep in the glove compartment of your car.  If
      you read your letter and you're still inclined to drive, I want you
      to take this out and read it before you start your car...
      Remember, back in the punishment room, when I told you to imagine
      that this was your second, or even third, offense and that you had
      such a long way to go before your sentence was finished? Writing
      these -- and USING them -- can keep what you imagined from becoming
      a VERY PAINFUL reality...."
	  Earl agrees to do this writing and asks Jim what time it is.
      He is very surprised to find that it's not even quite eight yet.
      Jim points out that, between the time of the first lash and the




      -------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

				      123                           CASE 2

      last, less than two and a half minutes had gone by.  Earl replies
      with, "That was the LONGEST two and a half minutes of MY life!
	  As Jim walks out he shrugs and says, "It could have been a lot
      worse, if there's a 'next time' -- it WILL be....  I'll see you
      tomorrow, Earl."
	  As his cell door clangs shut, Jim's words echo resoundingly in
      his ears.  Though he's still in a lot of pain, he begins the letter
      to himself immediately.
	  About an hour later, the tray slot opens and his dinner appears
      in the slot.  Earl suddenly becomes aware that he IS hungry.  He'd
      been so busy, he really hadn't given it too much though up to that
      point.  As he eats, he periodically adds thoughts to his letter.
      By the time he finishes dinner, he discovers he has written almost
      three pages to himself.  Remembering Jim's suggestion that he carry
      it in his wallet, he decides to wrap it up by simply writing,
      "DON'T DO IT!!! CALL A CAB! IT'S JUST NOT WORTH THE RISK!!!!" He
      then starts on the second assignment, but he finds that he's both
      physically and mentally exhausted.  The stinging, burning feeling
      on his back has slacked off; but, he still finds it much less
      uncomfortable to lie on his stomach.
	  Around 10:45, the med-tech comes in, retakes his vitals, and
      checks his back.  Now wide awake, Earl decides to write for a while
      longer before going back to sleep.
	  The next morning, he awakens to the sound of his breakfast tray
      being slid in.  He eats and starts back to work on his writing.  He
      finds that, even though his back is still tender in places, it is
      not nearly as sore as it was the night before.
	  Shortly before lunch, a different med-tech stops by to check on
      him.  Again, his temperature, blood pressure, and pulse are taken
      and noted.  His back is again sprayed with the antiseptic.  The few
      places where the skin had been broken have sealed over well (none
      were deep enough to really even cause scabs), and the med-tech
      tells him, "You're doing fine.  Just take it easy for a couple of
      days, keep your back clean, and use the spray you'll get when you
      leave a couple of times a day until you're healed over.  You'll be
      O.K....  I'll warn you right now, though, if you try to get out and
      mow your lawn, in this August heat, in the next few days, you'll
      regret it.  Your back is really going to sting from the sweat."
	  Lunch comes and goes.  Jim shows up about two hours later, as
      Earl is just coming to a point where he has written everything he
      can think of, up to the present.  He reads it to Jim and they
      discuss it as they go along.  This takes about two and a half
      hours, and when they finish, Jim asks, "Well Earl, would you rather
      eat dinner here, or on your way home?"
	  "On my way home! Of course!" Earl replies.
	  "Go ahead and write about some of these insights you've had
      while we were talking.  A tech will be along in about an hour or so
      to process you out.  I talked to your wife on the phone last night,
      she was worried and called, just as I was getting ready to leave.
      She'll be here around 6 o'clock to pick you up.  If you're as smart
      as I think you are, you'll keep writing about things even after you
      get home.  It's a very useful tool..."
	  Before he leaves, Jim writes down a phone number, gives it to
      Earl, and tells him, "This is the number to a group that was
      started by some other people who have been through here and don't
      want to come back either.  They get together and do things.  It



      -------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

       CASE 2                         124

      might not be your usual crowd; but, how many in your usual crowd
      are you really going to be able to talk openly to about what you
      went through here? Then again, you just might run into more than
      just a few which you DO know.  Anyway, sometimes it's helpful to
      have people to talk to who have been through similar experiences...
      Good luck, Earl."
	  Almost an hour later, a tech comes for Earl.  Giving him a
      large folder, he tells him to gather up his papers and bring them
      with him.  He then takes him back through the processing area where
      Earl signs for his returned property and is allowed to change back
      into his street clothes.
	  He is given a small can of the spray to take with him, his
      identification band is clipped off, and he is led to an adjacent
      room, where his wife is waiting for him.  As they are reunited,
      tears come to Earl's eyes.  He can't help thinking about the
      writing he had done, less than two days earlier, when he had to
      picture in his mind HIS wife as being the lady killed on the tape.
	  "Honey? Are you all right?" she asks, her voice heavy with
      worry.
	  Earl wipes his eyes and says, "I was only thinking about how
      very much I love you! Let's go home.  I SURE DON'T EVER want to
      come back to THIS place!"
	  As they drive off, Earl takes the letter he wrote out of his
      folder, folds it up, and puts it in his wallet.
	  The next day, he is still a little sore and very emotionally
      wrung out, so he takes another sick day.  While he is off, he has
      his assignments photocopied and puts the originals into their
      places.  He make the appointment for the alcohol evaluation and
      makes arrangements for his community service.  He goes back to work
      the next day.





























      -------------------------------------------------------------------

	From: So, you're FED UP with the "criminal justice" system too,
	huh?  By: Kathy L. Renbarger  (fedup@flash.net)

				      125                           CASE 2

			     FOUR MONTHS LATER
			     (FRIDAY--DEC. 22)
			   OFFICE CHRISTMAS PARTY

	  Earl has finished all of his community service weeks ago.  The
      evaluation detected no indications of alcoholism.
	  Earl finds out that the punch (of which he has consumed quite a
      lot...) has been spiked with vodka.  About half an hour later, the
      party is breaking up and he decides it is time to go home.  He
      wonders if, maybe, he should either call a cab, or else have his
      wife pick him up on her way home from work.
	  "But," he thinks to himself, "I really haven't had all THAT
      much, I've been snacking a lot, and I don't FEEL drunk.  They
      probably didn't put all THAT much vodka in there, after all, it's a
      big bowl.  I should be able to make it home all right...."
	  Earl finds his keys; but, as he heads towards the door to go to
      his car, memories of ANOTHER walk and ANOTHER door -- four months
      earlier, flood over him like a tidal-wave.  Again, his hands begin
      to shake and his knees feel weak.  He thinks about the letter in
      his wallet and goes into the bathroom, where he takes it out and
      reads it.
	  Instead of driving home, Earl calls his wife, "Hi babe.
      Somebody spiked the punch here at the office party.  Would you mind
      stopping by and picking me up on your way to the house? There is
      ABSOLUTELY NO WAY that I am going to risk trying to drive
      home!......"

































      -------------------------------------------------------------------



      CASE 2                        126

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