A Cop Story
This story is not about the Congo, but it is a story from the past. Besides, this is my blog and I want to tell it.
One day, when I was an officer of the law, I was dispatched to the Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner's office to take a report of a child who had been victimized. The nurse told me the 6 year old girl had almost certainly been abused by her grandfather, a man in his late 50's who had just been released from a long prison term. Then she said "Carl, you are not going to believe this girl!" and then proceeded to describe with amazed admiration, the demeanor of this child.
She described someone who sounded like a combination of Shirley Temple and the proprietoress of a Paris salon. The girl rejected all suggestions that she tell her story thru an intermediary, she was going to speak to the officer directly. As part of the briefing, the nurse showed me a drawing the girl had made but warned me not to tell her I had seen it, the girl wanted to present it to me herself.
We then went into the playroom where the girl was waiting with her mother and her aunt. Never in my life had I been in a room with anyone, man, woman or child, who had such presence. The girl radiated. The rest of us just weren't there. She sat up straight, looked me straight in the eye, was personable and charming and innocent and spoke in complete sentences and had a kind heart that was bigger than she was and you could almost see beating. She was the most outstanding witness I ever interviewed and the only child I've talked to who took pains to make sure I was situated comfortably.
The interview proceeded. She told an ugly and common story of cruelty and almost never missed a beat. When the time came to show me the drawing she said proudly "I made a picture. Do you want to see it?" I said I did and she retrieved it and explained what it meant and made sure I understood.
As I listened, the human part of me was struck dumb with wonderment at this child. The cop part of me thought there was no way this case could be lost, the jury will give this kid anything and everything.
She turned into a 6 year old girl only once. She paused for a second, looked at me and said:
"Officer"
"Yes"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Yes, of course."
Then she asked in a small, little girl voice:
"Why did he do that?"
I was the officer, I wore the uniform; for her, at that moment, I was the focus of all that was good in the world. And she wanted me to tell her why there was evil.
I maundered something about how I didn't know, there were bad people in the world, they did bad things, it wasn't her fault, she wasn't to blame and when things like this happened we deal with them as best we can. That seemed to satisfy her and we continued the interview.
When we were done, she stood up, thanked me, shook my hand solemnly and led her mother and aunt to the car and they all drove home.
The case never came to trial because the grandfather died of natural causes a few months later.
I'll never forget her question and I wish there was a better answer.
One day, when I was an officer of the law, I was dispatched to the Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner's office to take a report of a child who had been victimized. The nurse told me the 6 year old girl had almost certainly been abused by her grandfather, a man in his late 50's who had just been released from a long prison term. Then she said "Carl, you are not going to believe this girl!" and then proceeded to describe with amazed admiration, the demeanor of this child.
She described someone who sounded like a combination of Shirley Temple and the proprietoress of a Paris salon. The girl rejected all suggestions that she tell her story thru an intermediary, she was going to speak to the officer directly. As part of the briefing, the nurse showed me a drawing the girl had made but warned me not to tell her I had seen it, the girl wanted to present it to me herself.
We then went into the playroom where the girl was waiting with her mother and her aunt. Never in my life had I been in a room with anyone, man, woman or child, who had such presence. The girl radiated. The rest of us just weren't there. She sat up straight, looked me straight in the eye, was personable and charming and innocent and spoke in complete sentences and had a kind heart that was bigger than she was and you could almost see beating. She was the most outstanding witness I ever interviewed and the only child I've talked to who took pains to make sure I was situated comfortably.
The interview proceeded. She told an ugly and common story of cruelty and almost never missed a beat. When the time came to show me the drawing she said proudly "I made a picture. Do you want to see it?" I said I did and she retrieved it and explained what it meant and made sure I understood.
As I listened, the human part of me was struck dumb with wonderment at this child. The cop part of me thought there was no way this case could be lost, the jury will give this kid anything and everything.
She turned into a 6 year old girl only once. She paused for a second, looked at me and said:
"Officer"
"Yes"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Yes, of course."
Then she asked in a small, little girl voice:
"Why did he do that?"
I was the officer, I wore the uniform; for her, at that moment, I was the focus of all that was good in the world. And she wanted me to tell her why there was evil.
I maundered something about how I didn't know, there were bad people in the world, they did bad things, it wasn't her fault, she wasn't to blame and when things like this happened we deal with them as best we can. That seemed to satisfy her and we continued the interview.
When we were done, she stood up, thanked me, shook my hand solemnly and led her mother and aunt to the car and they all drove home.
The case never came to trial because the grandfather died of natural causes a few months later.
I'll never forget her question and I wish there was a better answer.
posted by Carl at 1:47 AM
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