Alligator Park

by R. J. Blacks

  It’s a beautiful warm day and the stroll is just what we need to get into the right frame of mind for the battle that is about to commence. We arrive at the courthouse at 8:00 AM, pass through security, and then Berkeley warns us not to speak to anyone about the case, or anything related to the case, no matter how innocent.

  “The person you think is a casual observer may in fact be an informant for the other side,” he says.

  The Stewarts find a seat in the public viewing area and I accompany Berkeley to the plaintiff’s table and sit down in the place assigned to me. He had previously petitioned the judge to allow me to sit next to him as a technical advisor and the judge agreed as long as I don’t testify. Fargo, Doug, Brad, and Sandy have been sequestered in a special soundproof room so one person’s testimony will not influence the others.

  The trial doesn’t start until nine so I glance around the room to see if I recognize anyone. Eldridge Broadhampton, the CEO, is sitting in the front row of the public viewing area along with his personal advisors. At the table for the defense are two men, Ellis Grimes, his chief council, and another man I don’t recognize. He’s exquisitely dressed in a fine grey suit and has an imposing stature, tall and somewhat broad at the waistline. I lean over to Berkeley and whisper: “Who is that man?”

  “That’s Clarence Fullbright, probably the most expensive criminal lawyer in America.”

  “Why do they have a criminal lawyer?”

  “It’s just a form of psychological intimidation. They want to send a message they don’t mess around and consider our accusations criminal.”

  “It’s working,” I say, as my heart palpitates.

  “Well, don’t worry. He might be top drawer for criminal cases, but we’ll see how he does for product liability.”

  The jury files in at 8:45 AM, and after they are seated, the bailiff asks everyone to rise. The judge comes in through a back door, takes his place at the bench, and then, tells everyone to be seated. The bailiff starts the proceedings by announcing the court case:

  “George and Victoria Stewart, Plaintiff

  verses

  Global World Industries, Defendant.

  Court Docket, Maryland 15-12925.”

  The judge turns toward the jury and greets them:

  “Welcome everyone. In a few moments you will be hearing the opening statements from both parties in the litigation. This is an opinion. It is not evidence, nor is it a statement of fact. It is merely a summary of what the attorney hopes to prove or disprove during the course of the trial and may be interspersed with his personal views. Please take it with a grain of salt.”

  He then turns to Berkeley:

  “Counsel for the plaintiff, please proceed.”

  Berkeley gets up, approaches the jury box, and then looks at each person in the eye. He looks magnificent, projecting the confidence of an airline pilot bringing in a 747 in a thunderstorm. In a calm gentle voice, he addresses the jury:

  “This is a simple case about a boy named Kevin.” He pauses for a moment to allow it to sink in and then continues: “There are some that would try to make this complicated, confusing you with a lot of technical jargon that has little to no bearing on the case, but please, do not be intimidated. I say simple, because it’s a case about a young man, with a bright future, doing what hundreds of other young men have done, watching the moonlight over a romantic Florida lake with the woman he loved. And then, without warning, was brutally torn apart by rogue alligators resulting in his death. It is a sad story, but I am of the belief it didn’t have to happen. I believe that if Global World Industries had not put profits ahead of safety, if GWI had spent more time testing the pesticide Farm-eXia before releasing it, this would not have happened and Kevin would still be with us today. In fact, if GWI had been more responsible, none of us would be here today.

  Over the next two weeks I will be bringing in expert witnesses to show how GWI neglected basic safety guidelines, and even when they were alerted to the danger, did nothing to prevent it. I ask only that you listen to the testimony, review the evidence, and think about Kevin. Think about how his life was ripped from him. Think about his parents, and how they will never know the joy of seeing their boy graduate from college, or see him get married. Think about how they will never feel the love of the grandchildren he could have given them. And then, after you have considered the pain they endured, and will continue to endure, I would like you to come back into this room and give me an honest decision.”

  I feel the urge to applaud, but remind myself this is a court, not a theater. But the jury seems genuinely moved; indeed, some of the jurors are patting their eyes with a tissue. Berkeley turns to face the judge.

  “Thank you, Your Honor, he says, and then joins me at the plaintiff’s table.

  The judge turns to Clarence Fullbright.

  “Counsel for the defense, you may proceed with your opening statement.”

  Fullbright stands up, unfastens the button at the front of his jacket, and then saunters over to the jury box. He places both hands on the railing and leans towards them.

  “What you have just heard is hogwash, total speculation.”

  He hesitates for a moment letting the jury fully absorb the impact of his statement, and then continues.

  “To imply my client, Global World Industries, would release an unsafe product is not only unprofessional and irresponsible, it is scandalous. I would like to read you a brief passage.”

  Fullbright strolls back to the defense table, picks up a three-ring binder, and then opens it to a page tagged with a yellow sticky note. He faces the jury and begins reading.

  “The mission of GWI is to serve the public good, provide useful and superior products, protect the health and welfare of the public, and maintain a clean and healthy environment.”

  He puts the book down and then returns to the jury box, staring down the jury.

  “This paragraph is right out of the employee handbook, the same book that is given to everyone at the company. Every employee is expected to memorize it and recite it at least once a year. Now, I ask you, does this sound like a company that is insensitive to the concerns of the public?”

  He waits for a moment and looks around the courtroom as if he’s expecting an answer, but everyone remains silent.

  He continues: “My opponent tells us he intends to prove GWI neglected its duty to the public and released Farm-eXia with inadequate testing. Well, I intend to do the opposite; show how GWI not only followed EPA safety standards, they exceeded them, with testing that was not even required. I intend to show that GWI takes safety seriously and would never put anyone at risk. Yes, we are in business to make profits, but profits have never overshadowed our commitment to environmental protection and the safety of the public. Everyone at GWI, from the CEO on down, has a great sense of sadness for the premature death of Kevin. But it was an accident, an unfortunate accident. Nothing can bring him back. At the end of the testimony, I believe the facts will show that nothing GWI did or didn’t do contributed in any way to his death. I also would like you to deliberate on those facts, convince yourselves, beyond a doubt, that GWI is innocent of any accusation that they were responsible for Kevin’s death. Thank you very much.”

  Fullbright returns to his chair and the judge announces a brief recess.

  “Court returns to session at 10:00 AM sharp,” he says.

  Everyone files out the courtroom and heads to the break area for coffee and snacks and Berkeley and I are the last ones out.

  “That guy can certainly work a jury,” I say.

  “Facts are facts, and juries rule on facts,” Berkeley says with an unflappable air of confidence. “We’ll see how he does on cross-examination.”

  We file back into the courtroom at five minutes before ten and take our seats. The judge calls the court to order.

  “Counsel for the plaintiff, you may call your first witness.”

  Berkeley stands up and faces the judge.

  “I would like to cal
l Sandy Harris to the stand please.”

  The bailiff leaves the courtroom and returns a few minutes later with Sandy. He escorts her to the witness chair, she sits down, and then he swears her in.

  “Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  “I do,” she says.

  The judge turns to Berkeley: “You may proceed.”

  Berkeley takes the floor and addresses Sandy.

  “For the record, would you state your name please.”

  “Sandra Harris. But everyone calls me Sandy.”

  “Sandy, could you tell the jury where you live.”

  “Jacksonville, Florida.”

  “Are you living there now?”

  “No, actually I’m living in the dorm at Ormond College.”

  “And what do you do there?”

  “I’m a freshman in Oceanography.”

  “The same as Kevin?”

  “Yes, we were friends.”

  “Could you briefly tell the jury how you met Kevin.”

  “We were both taking this course called, ‘Reef Maintenance.’ It required us to take a boat out to the Florida Reef and then dive down to get a close-up view. We were both dive-certified, but I was having trouble getting into my gear because the straps were too tight. He saw me struggling so he adjusted them for me. Later, we had lunch together, realized we had similar interests, and then, became friends.”

  “How long had you known him before the incident?”

  “A couple of months.”

  “I know this will be painful for you, but could you briefly describe what happened on that fateful night.”

  “Kevin had just bought this blue Camaro. He was really proud of it and wanted to take me for a ride. No place in particular, just around. We ended up on Granada Boulevard, which is also Route 40, and then, started driving west, toward the setting sun. We stopped for dinner at around six, and after that, decided it would be fun to see Lake George by moonlight.”

  “And then?”

  “Kevin saw a sign for a picnic area so he followed this dirt road for about a mile until it opened up to a clearing with picnic tables and a beach. It looked pretty safe so he parked where we would get a decent view of the lake.”

  “Were there any other cars around?”

  “No, only us.”

  “According to the police report, you were enjoying the view and listening to the radio. And then what happened?”

  “Well, Kevin tells me he has to... can I say it?”

  “He had to pee?” Berkeley interjects.

  “Yes. So he gets out of the car and goes over to this big old oak tree and starts to pee. He was there a bit and then I hear this commotion, glance in his direction, and see he’s surrounded by alligators and he’s banging this tree-branch on the ground to try to scare them away.”

  “Where did they come from?”

  “I don’t know. I was looking the other way ‘cause he yelled at me for staring at him so I turned away. I mean, it was stupid; he had his back to me the whole time.”

  “Go on please.”

  “Well, he had nowhere to go so he climbed up the tree and told me to drive the car under a long branch that was big enough to carry his weight. Then he shimmies along the branch, hangs over the open sun roof, and drops into the car.”

  “So you guys were safe?”

  “Not exactly. He tries to drive away, but the alligators kept coming; they were everywhere. He tried to run over them, but the car was too low and it would get stuck. So he backed up under the branch and we get on the roof and then I climbed up onto his shoulders. I reached for the branch and pulled myself into the tree. It wasn’t that hard because I’m a cheerleader.”

  “And he did the same?”

  “He tried to, but I couldn’t reach him. He tried stacking stuff on the roof to get closer, but then the whole thing collapsed and after that I don’t remember anything.”

  “You blacked out?”

  “That’s what the psychologist told me.”

  “Would you describe your impressions of the alligators before you blacked out.”

  “Well, I’ve lived in Florida my whole life and I know gators. I’ve never seen any that acted like that. They circled the tree, slowly closing in so he had no way to escape, almost like they had planned it.”

  “If you had to describe their behavior in one word, what would it be?”

  “Weird.”

  “No further questions, Your Honor,” Berkeley says, and then he sits down.

  “Counsel for the defense, you may cross-examine if you so desire,” the judge says.

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Fullbright says, and then takes the floor.

  “Sandy, you told us you and Kevin drove down a dirt road into a picnic area near the water. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it dark when you got there?”

  “Yes, pretty dark.”

  “Did you see a sign by the entrance that said the park closes at dusk?”

  “Objection, Your Honor. Has no bearing on the outcome,” Berkeley says.

  “I was merely trying to establish the character of the witness,” Fullbright says.

  “Objection sustained,” the judge says.

  “Okay, we’ll do this another way.”

  Fullbright paces the floor thinking, and then, turns to Sandy.

  “The police report said alcohol and marijuana were found in the car. That’s a statement of fact. But my question is: when the alligators attacked, would you say you were drunk or high or both?”

  “Objection, Your Honor, leading the witness,” Berkeley says.

  “Overruled. Leading is allowed during cross-examination,” the judge says. “Please continue Mr. Fullbright.”

  “The question is: when the alligators attacked, were you drunk or high or both?”

  “I was definitely not drunk or high,” Sandy says.

  “Then how do you explain the alcohol and marijuana in the vehicle?”

  “We didn’t smoke marijuana. If there was some, I never saw it. It’s not my car.”

  “And the alcohol?”

  “Okay, I did have a taste of the Southern Comfort, but not enough to make me drunk.”

  “So you want us to believe there were hundreds of alligators attacking you? Doesn’t that sound a little unbelievable?”

  “I said there were a lot of alligators.”

  “On the night of the incident, you said ‘hundreds.’”

  “Objection, Your Honor. The girl was in shock and not of sound mind,” Berkley says.

  “Your Honor, I’m trying to determine the reliability of the testimony,” Fullbright says.

  “Objection overruled.”

  “Okay, let’s just say there were a lot of alligators, not hundreds, but quite a few. How many would you say there were, fifty, seventy five? Give it your best estimate.”

  “It was dark, and things were happening fast... I didn’t have time to count them.”

  “Take a guess.”

  Sandy looks away and thinks for a moment.

  “I don’t know. It was a lot... I really don’t know.”

  “So it could have been ten?”

  “No, it was more than ten for sure.”

  “Twenty... or thirty?”

  “Maybe thirty.”

  Fullbright turns to the judge.

  “I motion that the record show the witness was unsure of the number of alligators, but believed it might be about thirty.”

  “Allowed,” the judge says.

  “No further questions, Your Honor.”

  “Does either counsel wish to question the witness again at any time in the future?” the judge asks, and then looks at Berkeley.

  “No, Your Honor.”

  The judge looks at Fullbright: “And you?”

  “No further questions, Your Honor.”

  “The witness is hereby excused from the court. You may remain in the visitors secti
on if you wish, or leave the premises.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Sandy says, and then walks up the isle and out the door.

  CHAPTER 33

  It’s a quarter to twelve and the judge calls a recess for lunch. Everyone scurries out the courtroom and Berkeley leads us all to the Mia Bella Tuscan Grill just off the Inner Harbor. I feel a little adventurous so I order a Pasta Fra Diavolo consisting of Campanelle with a spicy tomato cream sauce. We’re not allowed to talk about the trial so we just eat in silence save for an occasional comment about the hot July weather. The view is gorgeous. The harbor is right across the street and from our table I can see a few of the historic ships in dock.

  After lunch, we still have a half hour to kill so we do a tour of the USS Constellation. It was launched in 1854, the last ship to be built by the Navy that was powered by sail alone. After a century of service, it was officially decommissioned in 1955 and is now designated a permanent Historic Landmark at the Inner Harbor in Baltimore.

  We arrive back at the courtroom at 1:30 PM. A few minutes later, the judge enters the courtroom and reconvenes the trial. He turns to Berkeley.

  “Counsel for the plaintiff, you may call your next witness.”

  Berkeley stands up and announces: “I would like to call Fargo Dane to the stand.”

  The bailiff exits the courtroom and returns a few minutes later with Fargo. He accompanies him to the witness chair, and then, swears him in.

  Berkeley takes the floor.

  “For the record, would you state your name please.”

  “Fargo Dane.”

  “And where do you live?”

  “Lake George, Florida.”

  “What do you do in Lake George?”

  “I run a nature tour business.”

  “People say you know more about alligators than anyone in the area. Is that a true statement?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “In fact, you have such an intimate knowledge of alligator behavior, the state police often call you as an expert advisor when they investigate deadly alligator attacks. Is that right?”

  “Yes, they do.”

  “So on December 24th, the day after Kevin’s death, Detective John Bolt called on you to assist the state police in the investigation of what appeared to be just another random alligator attack.”