Redding URL: http://www.redding.com/redd/nw_local/article/0,2232,REDD_17533_4271781,00.html Two arrested in homicide
By Constance Dillon, Record Searchlight
Two people were arrested in the death of a Redding woman Sunday after an abandoned car led police to the victim's home. Police received a report of a hit-and-run collision in the 4100 block of Churn Creek Road about 6:38 a.m., said Sgt. Paul Grooms of the Redding Police Department. There, officers found an empty vehicle with blood in the truck. Police then began trying to find the registered owner, 35-year-old Jeannette Renee Mariedth, Grooms said. They went to Mariedth's home on State Street in the Parkview neighborhood about 10 a.m. after finding that she had not arrived at work, where she was expected Sunday morning. On their arrival, two people left the home through a back window, Grooms said. Officers arrested suspects Scott Paul Varner, 24, of Redding and a 17-year-old girl. The girl was taken to juvenile hall on an outstanding warrant, police said. Varner ran away but was found and arrested on parole violations. Varner, a registered sex offender on parole, recently had cut off his electronic confinement anklet, Grooms said. Officials said he was booked into the Shasta County jail, but a jail spokesperson said there was no record of Varner's arrival. According to Grooms, the suspects later told police that Mariedth had been killed Saturday night and that her body had been dumped on a dirt road near Clair A. Hill Dam at Whiskeytown Lake. Investigators found the woman's body based on the information provided by Varner and the girl, Grooms said. Police refused to release additional details Sunday night. Anyone with information about Mariedth's death is asked to contact police investigator Kevin Kimple at 225-4214. Reporter Constance Dillon can be reached at 225-8372 or at cdillon@redding.com . Copyright 2005, Redding. All Rights Reserved.
URL: http://www.redding.com/redd/nw_local/article/0,2232,REDD_17533_4215018,00.html Judge says sentence too short for charges
A Shasta County Superior Court judge Friday rejected a plea bargain that called for a six-year prison sentence for a 49-year-old Redding man accused of molesting two children. Judge James Ruggiero said, however, that he would accept a 12-year prison term for Rick Keith Devoll, or would allow him to withdraw his no-contest plea and proceed to trial. Devoll faces a maximum of 30 years in prison if convicted. Although Ruggiero’s ruling was tentative, it was clear that he would not accept the six-year pact offered by the district attorney’s office because of the seriousness of the charges. Devoll, who is represented by Redding attorney Joe Gazzigli, has until Nov. 14 to decide whether to accept 12 years in prison or go to trial. Although Devoll was due to be sentenced Friday to the six-year stipulated sentence, Ruggiero said he was concerned about the plea bargain, noting that Devoll had written two letters to the court, one denying culpability for the charges and the most recent in which he admitted responsibility. Ruggiero said if Devoll maintains his innocence, the case should go to trial to allow a jury to decide. But if the accusations against Devoll are true, he said, the six-year sentence may be too light. "As it currently stands, it appears that a 12-year term is more appropriate," he said. Devoll, who was arrested in July 2004 at his Moonstone Way home, was charged with a dozen felony counts, including lewd and lascivious acts with a child under 14 and continual sexual abuse, as well as two misdemeanor counts of contributing to the delinquency of a minor. According to a series of police reports, one of the alleged victims said, among other things, that Devoll had sexually abused her since approximately 1995, when she was a young child. She also said that he took numerous nude and sexually explicit photographs of her, a report says. The other alleged victim, who said that Devoll also sexually assaulted her, said that he furnished both girls with alcohol on at least two occasions and had given them pornographic films to watch. Devoll was remanded into custody after he entered his no-contest plea in September. He remains in jail. Reporter Jim Schultz can be reached at 225-8223 or at jschultz@redding.com .
McMartin Pre-Schooler: 'I Lied'
October 30, 2005 My mother divorced my father when I was 2 and she met my stepfather, who was a police officer in Manhattan Beach. They had five children after me. In addition, my stepfather has three older children. In the combined family, I'm the only one of the nine children he didn't father. I always remember wanting him to love me. I was always trying excessively hard to please him. I would do anything for him. My stepbrothers and stepsisters and a half-brother and half-sister went to McMartin. So did I. I only remember being happy there. I never had any bad feelings about the school—no bad auras or vibes or anything. Even to this day, talking about it or seeing pictures or artwork that I did at McMartin never brings any bad feelings. All my memories are positive. The thing I remember about the case was how it took over the whole city and consumed our whole family. My parents would ask questions: "Did the teachers ever do things to you?" They talked about Ray Buckey, whom I had never met. I don't even have any recollection of him attending the school when I was going there. The first time I went to CII [Children's Institute International, now known as Children's Institute, Inc., a respected century-old L.A. County child welfare organization where approximately 400 former McMartin children were interviewed and given genital exams, and where many were diagnosed as abuse victims], we drove there, our whole family. I remember waiting … for hours while my brothers and sisters were being interviewed. I don't remember how many days or if it was just one day, but my memory tells me it was weeks, it seemed so long. It was an ordeal. I remember thinking to myself, "I'm not going to get out of here unless I tell them what they want to hear." We were examined by a doctor. I took my clothes off and lay down on the table. They checked my butt, my penis. There was a room with a lot of toys and stuffed animals and dolls. The dolls were pasty white and had hair where the private parts were. They wanted us to take off their clothes. It was just really weird. I remember them asking extremely uncomfortable questions about whether Ray touched me and about all the teachers and what they did—and I remember telling them nothing happened to me. I remember them almost giggling and laughing, saying, "Oh, we know these things happened to you. Why don't you just go ahead and tell us? Use these dolls if you're scared." Anytime I would give them an answer that they didn't like, they would ask again and encourage me to give them the answer they were looking for. It was really obvious what they wanted. I know the types of language they used on me: things like I was smart, or I could help the other kids who were scared. I felt uncomfortable and a little ashamed that I was being dishonest. But at the same time, being the type of person I was, whatever my parents wanted me to do, I would do. And I thought they wanted me to help protect my little brother and sister who went to McMartin. Later my parents asked if the teachers took pictures and played games with us. Games like "Naked Movie Star." I remember my mom asking me. She would ask if they sang the song, and I didn't know what she was talking about, so she would sing something like, "Who you are, you're a naked movie star." I'm pretty sure that's the first time I ever heard that: from my mom. After she asked me a hundred times, I probably said yeah, I did play that game. My parents were very encouraging when I said that things happened. It was almost like saying things happened was going to help get these people in jail and stop them from what they were trying to do to kids. Also, there were so many kids saying all these things happened that you didn't want to be the one who said nothing did. You wouldn't be believed if you said that. I remember feeling like they didn't pick just anybody—they picked me because I had a good memory of what they wanted, and they could rely on me to do a good job. I don't think they thought I was telling the truth, just that I was telling the same stories consistently, doing what needed to be done to get these teachers judged guilty. I felt special. Important. It always seemed like I was thinking. I would listen to what my parents would say if they were talking, or to what someone else would say if we were being questioned at the police station or anywhere. And I would repeat things. Or if it wasn't a story I'd heard, I would think of something in my head. I would try to think of the worst thing possible that would be harmful to a child. I remember once I said that if you had a cut, instead of putting a Band-Aid on it, the McMartin teachers would put on dirt, then put the Band-Aid over the dirt. That was just something in my head that was bad. I just thought of it and told [the investigators]. I think I got the satanic details by picturing our church. We went to American Martyrs, which was a huge Catholic church. Every Sunday we had to go, and Mass would last an hour, hour and a half. None of us wanted to go: It was kicking and screaming all the way there. Sitting, standing, sitting, standing. What I would do was picture the altar, pews and stained-glass windows, and if [investigators] said, "Describe an altar," I would describe the one in our church. Or instead of, "There was a priest in a green suit"—someone who was real—I would say, "A man dressed in red as a cult member." From going to church you know that God is good, and the devil is bad and has horns and is about evil and red and blood. I'd just throw a twist in there with Satan and devil-worshipping. I remember going in our van with all my brothers and sisters and driving to airports and houses and being asked if we had been [abused in] these places. I remember telling people [that the McMartin teachers] took us to Harry's Meat Market, and describing what I thought the market was like. I had never been in there before, and I was fairly certain I was going to get in trouble for what I was saying because it probably was not accurate. I imagined someone would say, "They don't have that kind of freezer there." And they did say that. But then someone said, "Well, they could have changed it." It was like anything and everything I said would be believed. The lawyers had all my stories written down and knew exactly what I had said before. So I knew I would have to say those exact things again and not have anything be different, otherwise they would know I was lying. I put a lot of pressure on myself. At night in bed, I would think hard about things I had said in the past and try to repeat only the things I knew I'd said before. I remember describing going to an airport and Ray taking us somewhere on an airplane. Then I realized the parents would have known the kids were gone from the school. I felt I'd screwed up and my lie had been caught—I was busted! I was so upset with myself! I remember breaking down and crying. I felt everyone knew I was lying. But my parents said, "You're doing fine. Don't worry." And everyone was saying how proud they were of me, not to worry. I'm not saying nothing happened to anyone else at the McMartin Pre-School. I can't say that—I can only speak for myself. Maybe some things did happen. Maybe some kids made up stories about things that didn't really happen, and eventually started believing they were telling the truth. Maybe some got scared that the teachers would get their families because they were lying. But I never forgot I was lying. My stepdad was a police officer who had guns in the house. I remember when all of this was coming down, he was put on a leave of absence from work because he was being investigated for supposedly threatening the McMartin family. He was cleared of that accusation—apparently it wasn't true. But being only 9 years old at the time, I thought my dad was saying he would kill the McMartins. So in my mind, I figured no one from the school was going to dare mess with him because he would have hurt them first. That made me feel secure. It could be a reason I never mixed up reality and fantasy and always knew I was lying. But the lying really bothered me. One particular night stands out in my mind. I was maybe 10 years old and I tried to tell my mom that nothing had happened. I lay on the bed crying hysterically—I wanted to get it off my chest, to tell her the truth. My mother kept asking me to please tell her what was the matter. I said she would never believe me. She persisted: "I promise I'll believe you! I love you so much! Tell me what's bothering you!" This went on for a long time: I told her she wouldn't believe me, and she kept assuring me she would. I remember finally telling her, "Nothing happened! Nothing ever happened to me at that school." She didn't believe me. We had a highly dysfunctional family. We argued and fought all the time. My mother has always blamed anything negative on the idea that we went to that preschool and were molested. To this day, she believes these things went on. Because if they didn't, how can she explain all the family's problems? To this day, I can't open up with her about my personal problems. She's always asking me why I never do. That one night skewed our relationship. Once the case was over, it was just over, in the past. The defendants were set free and that was it. The kids' parents never asked, "Why were they innocent? Why were they unable to find evidence to convict these people?" My family has not seen the movies or read the books questioning the prosecution. It's like skeletons in a closet that you just don't want to take back out. I'm the only one who ever brings the topic up and who admits nothing ever happened to me. I've said I lied about everything, but I've never gotten a real response from my mother and stepfather. It seems really strange, seeing their reaction to the fact that nothing happened to me. If I had gone my whole life thinking my child was molested, I would be elated to find out that he or she wasn't. I'd like to think learning that your child was not molested would supersede anything. After all, all you have is your next day. It would be a shame to live the rest of your life thinking molestation had happened when you could think it didn't. McMartin is something negative in my life and I'm trying to make it a positive. I've got two little kids I love dearly—they've changed the priorities in my life. My goal is to raise them as best as I can and try to lead by example. I want to be totally honest with them, to say, "This is something that happened to me. I did something dishonest, then at some point I was able to be honest about it." I want my children to be able to come to me like I wish I could have with my parents. I'm a supermarket manager, and the thing I like best about my job is the interactions I get to have with customers' kids. I love talking and listening to them. I've been told I would be perfect for opening a children's day care. That's very ironic. I would love to look at the defendants from the McMartin Pre-School and tell them, "I'm sorry." * How and Why Kyle Came Forward By Debbie Nathan I first heard from Kyle Zirpolo via e-mail early this summer. He contacted me because I appear in the documentary film "Capturing the Friedmans," which he had just seen. Members of the Friedman family were accused of mass child molestation in Long Island, N.Y., in the 1980s. Research I did years ago suggested that many or all of the allegations were false, and in the film I talk about this. I also discuss the McMartin case. I looked into it, while coauthoring "Satan's Silence," a book about the national panic over sex abuse in day-care centers and schools in the 1980s. Zirpolo found my website and wrote that he was chilled by the film's depiction of the Friedman family being destroyed by children's false accusations: "It was basically the same as the McMartins. I did that. I feel very ashamed." Nothing he told police and prosecutors about being abused was true, he added. He had regretted it for years. Now he wanted to apologize to the defendants in person. I told Zirpolo I wanted to hear his story. I also offered to put him in touch with the McMartin defendants. Some are dead, including Virginia McMartin and her daughter Peggy McMartin Buckey. Ray Buckey and his sister, Peggy Ann, as well as a former McMartin teacher, Babette Spitler, declined to meet with Zirpolo. They've always staunchly proclaimed their innocence, and say they don't need apologies from former students, who were children and couldn't help themselves. Peggy Ann has said that they would rather hear from the police, social workers, therapists, prosecutors, doctors and parents who fueled the case. Zirpolo says his mother and stepfather divorced years ago. I couldn't reach his stepfather, and when I contacted his mother for comment, she declined. Zirpolo says she "doesn't agree" with his decision to tell his story. As for his stepfather, all Zirpolo will say is that he's very ill. * How Kyle's Story Snowballed James M. Wood, a research psychologist at the University of Texas at El Paso, has studied the McMartin interviews done by Children's Institute International. Giving children dolls and puppets during a forensic interview encourages them to pretend and fantasize instead of sticking to facts, Wood says. When an interviewer refuses to take "no" for an answer, this implies that another response is required—even if it's not true. Saying that a defendant such as Ray Buckey is being followed by undercover police implies that the accused is dangerous and that the children should help lock him up. And, says Wood, telling children that "everyone's talking" about the crime "creates conformity pressures that are highly improper." A few years ago, Wood did an experiment in which children were questioned using McMartin interviewing techniques. After two or three minutes, most of the kids started to make up bizarre stories. According to Maggie Bruck, a psychiatry professor at Johns Hopkins University and a researcher of children's memory and suggestibility, Wood's experiment and others have led to a consensus among psychologists. They agree now that CII's methods in the McMartin case were inappropriate. CII Senior Vice President Steve Ambrose says his organization is "not in the business of promoting false allegations and never has been. McMartin was the first case of its type. [Experts have] learned a great amount [since then] about how to interview children about sexual abuse in ways that meet the needs of the criminal justice system. This remains very difficult. But we're more sensitive now about making sure that the way we interview kids will stand up in court and that what we say will not be taken out of context." The following is a condensed transcript of a March 10, 1984, CII interview with Kyle Sapp, now known as Kyle Zirpolo. Sapp was interviewed by two CII staffers.—D.N. Kyle: Mr. Ray [Ray Buckey] didn't work there when I was in there. Interviewer 1: What do you mean? Kyle: Yeah, he didn't go there. Interviewer 1: A long time ago some of the kids … said that there were some secrets from that school—some crummy things happened. And, um, we told 'em about our secret machine right here, and our puppets who are real smart guys like Mr. Snake Here's Pac-Man And, um, we told 'em how smart our puppets were and how they helped kids talk about some stuff sometimes and we've been playing detective … and maybe Pac-Man could talk for you, or Snake, so you wouldn't have to….What do you think? Kyle: (nods). • Interviewer 1: We can talk about those secrets now, Pac-Man. And you can help Kyle … everybody's talking about it now…. You know what? We're going to tell you one of our special secrets 'cause we have a secret that we've been telling all the kids, and this one is—you're going to like this one, Pac-Man, 'cause Kyle's dad is a policeman…. We know that sometimes Mr. Ray was at that school. He wasn't a teacher then, but we know that he was at school. Do you remember that, Pac-Man? Kyle: He didn't work there, but I know that when [another child] was there, it happened. Interviewer 1: Well, you know what? We know that even before Kyle was there [Ray] was there. And we know that he was there when Kyle was there too. Kyle: They said on TV that he did something. • Interviewer 1: We know this about Mr. Ray: That sitting outside Mr. Ray's house is a special policeman in a regular car. He doesn't wear a uniform or anything like that, but he, um, sits in a regular-looking car outside Mr. Ray's house…. He watches all the time, and if Mr. Ray goes out of his house, then the secret policeman follows him…. He'll be right behind him and he won't even know he's there….Think that's a good idea, Pac-Man? Kyle: Uh-huh. • Interviewer 1: We got a mountain of dolls here. Here's a little girl. Easy to tell she's a girl. She has a bow, and her vagina's underneath…. Kids throw 'em, beat 'em up, and everything. You should've seen [another child] beating 'em up. Boy we had a good time— Interviewer 2: Beating up Mr. Ray doll. Interviewer 1: And, um, let's see. I wonder, Pac-Man, if you remember any of the games that you used to play at that school. Kyle: Yeah. Interviewer 1: Yeah? Like which ones do you remember? Kyle: Like Mr. Ray—he would—he would get his camera, and then he—they would—they would—he would take their pants off, and—and then they would go in their pool and they—then he would take pictures. Interviewer 2: Your mom and dad already know that game 'cause they heard it from other kids' moms and dads. Interviewer 1: Did any other teachers play, Pac-Man? Kyle: Yeah … they took pictures too. Interviewer 1: Oh, boy. Gee, we're really figuring this out. What a big help you are. My goodness. Kyle Zirpolo is a 30-year-old former McMartin Pre-School student who now manages a supermarket on California's central coast. Debbie Nathan is a writer in New York and coauthor, with appellate attorney Michael Snedeker, of "Satan's Silence: Ritual Abuse and the Making of a Modern American Witch Hunt." She also is a board member of the National Center for Reason and Justice, a nonprofit group that works to educate the public about people falsely charged with child abuse.
http://www.auburnjournal.com/articles/2005/10/27/news/top_stories/06tyrell.txe Saturday, October 29, 2005 Last modified: Thursday, October 27, 2005 12:20 AM PDT Placer attorney to go to prison for felonies By: Penne Usher, Journal Staff Writer A Placer County attorney was sentenced Wednesday to five years and four months in state prison for multiple felony charges, including forgery of a court document, and a misdemeanor charge of child molestation. Jonathan R. Tyrell, 39, a criminal attorney from Roseville, along with his Auburn attorney Barry Zimmerman, sat stoically as Judge J. Richard Couzens read the verdict in an Auburn courtroom. Judge Couzens had the option of sending Tyrell to state prison for a maximum of seven years and four months. On the low end of the spectrum he could have received probation and served some jail time. "The people are very pleased with the sentence Judge Couzens handed down," said prosecutor Jeff Wilson, deputy district attorney for Placer County. "We think it was appropriate given the nature of the crimes and the position of trust that the defendant violated." Tyrell was arrested June 3 and had been charged with five counts of forgery, preparing false documents, possession of drug paraphernalia, use of a controlled substance, possession of pornographic material, eight counts of child molestation, a count of vandalism and battery with serious bodily injury and allegations that crimes occurred while he was on bail. Tyrell will be listed as a lifetime sex registrant, officials said. Zimmerman, who could not be reached for comment Wednesday, said in an earlier interview that he believed his client to be "a suitable candidate for probation and should get treatment for his drug issues." Wilson said the successful prosecution was due to the diligence of Roseville police officers and specifically Detective Clint Herndon. "It was his investigation that exposed the child molestation," Wilson said. "It was his time and effort that made this happen." The Journal's Penne Usher can be reached at penneu@goldcountrymedia.com .
Inmate in torture case kills self David Trujillo Lopez, 29, hangs himself in his cell
after telling relatives by phone that he has nothing to live for following
convictions for mistreating his 7-year-old daughter. By Mareva Brown and Ramon Coronado -- Bee Staff Writers
Hours after calling family members to say goodbye Thursday morning,
a man convicted this week of torturing his 7-year-old daughter apparently
hanged himself in his jail isolation cell.
Lopez, 29, whose trial was marked by his angry outbursts at the judge and verbal attacks on his attorney, was found at 4:20 a.m. with a noose around his neck that had been fashioned from a jail bedsheet, according to Sacramento County Sheriff's Sgt. R.L. Davis. He was pronounced dead eight minutes later, according to coroner's records. "His voice was very calm. He was very depressed," said Lopez's cousin, Sandra Trujillo-Perez, who spoke with him shortly after 1 a.m. "He said he had nothing to live for. He said, 'Make sure my kids know me the way I was, not the way I was pictured in court and the newspaper.' " Family members mourned Lopez as a frightened man who reacted with anger when he saw his freedom threatened by the criminal case. He was convicted Tuesday of 12 felony charges, including torturing and beating his daughter, who was in his temporary custody at the time. Witnesses said he yanked the child off the ground so violently her scalp ripped away from her skull, prompting her eyes to swell shut. During the trial, the girl testified she was forced to kneel on an upside-down plastic chair mat with the "poky side up" as punishment and paddled with an 18-inch-long wooden back-scratcher for such disobedience as not doing her homework. After jurors announced their guilty verdict Tuesday, Lopez shouted at the judge, "I've got a lot of things I want to put on the record," prompting six deputies to close in on the defendant and the judge to shout back, "I'm not going to take the time now." Lopez repeatedly exploded in fits of anger during the two-week trial and yelled relentlessly at his attorney, Assistant Public Defender Michael Nelson, with such rage that, at one point, deputies locked Lopez's hands in chains. Nelson said Thursday he was shocked at the news of his client's suicide. "I never saw any indicators that would lead one to believe he would take his life," Nelson said. "His friends and family all cared very much about David. They saw how he went overboard with discipline and knew he had been wrong, but like myself, not one of them believed he intended to cause the harm that he did." Prosecutor Valerie Brown, who was the frequent target of Lopez's verbal attacks during the trial, said she saw nothing to indicate Lopez was despondent - just angry. At one point, Lopez threw a handful of court records at her. "It is regrettable when things like this happen," Brown said. "I feel compassion for the people this affects, especially the little girl." Lopez's death marks the third jail suicide since early March, a rate that has alarmed sheriff's officials, who still are sensitive about a rash of seven suicides in 2002 and the resulting public outcry. Last year, two inmates committed suicide at the downtown high-rise jail. Assistant Sheriff David Lind said Thursday that Lopez was not considered a problem inmate, despite his courtroom antics. Deputies allowed him an extra recreation period, from 11 to 11:30 p.m. Wednesday night, and also agreed to let him use the telephone between 1 and 2 a.m. Thursday "because after the conviction he was bummed out," Lind said. Davis, the sheriff's spokesman, said Lopez was housed in an isolation cell because the nature of his crimes would make him a target for other inmates. He was checked hourly. "You can't put people who hurt children in the general (jail) population," Davis said. Lopez's cousin, Trujillo-Perez, said Lopez was taunted and threatened anyway, particularly after a story on the trial appeared in The Bee. "They called him 'child scalper,' " Trujillo-Perez said of other prisoners. "Inmates were telling him, 'Get ready for death.' The trusty who gave him his food asked him if he wanted Ajax in his food." The District Attorney's Office said Lopez had tried to keep the nature of his crimes quiet in the jail, and that newspaper coverage of his trial infuriated him because it blew his cover. In court, he sneered and cursed at The Bee reporter covering the trial. When deputies began investigating Lopez's death in the jail, they discovered a note "indicating he was extremely upset with the article in The Sacramento Bee," Davis said. Officials have not released the contents of the note, saying only that it was "brief" and that they do not consider it a suicide note. Another cousin, Angela Aguilera, said Lopez's public displays and the nature of his crimes obscured a sweeter man. "My cousin was a good-hearted guy," she said. "Yes, there was a lot
of anger. But he was backed into a corner and he was fighting for his life."
About the writer:
http://www.americandaily.com/article/7262 Killing Child Molesters Should Be As Socially Acceptable As Killing
Nazis
Six decades-ago, it was difficult to find any civilized person who did not see the Nazis as pure evil. Those same civilized people accepted the only way to deal with Hitler and his henchmen was to kill them. While the Nazis terrorized Europe and murdered and enslaved Jews (and anyone else deemed "unworthy")--Child molesters are perpetrating another type of holocaust, on the children of America. Their brand of evil can be dealt with in only one fashion...Death! The recent abduction and murder of nine year-old Jessica Lunsford by convicted child molester John Couey, is just the latest glaring reason to extend the death penalty to child molesters. The notion that child molesters can be somehow rehabilitated is nothing more than a wishful thought from bleeding-heart liberals. While the leftists bend over backwards to defend the most evil amongst us--children continue to robbed of their innocence and in some cases their lives. 46 year-old John Couey lived a mere 150 yards from the Lunsford home. This predator entered the home in the dark of night, kidnapped Jessica, raped her, murdered her, and then buried her tiny body in a shallow grave. Among his 24 arrests over the last 30 years, Couey was arrested and convicted of molesting a young girl in 1991. Jessica was not only the victim of an evil human being, she was in fact the victim of a justice system which fails to protect the innocent. According to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, 20 percent of all U.S. girls and 10 percent of all U.S. boys suffer some form of sexual assault, before reaching adulthood. Child molestation is a national epidemic. The California Department of Corrections reports that over half of convicted sex-offenders return to prison, within a year of their release. That number jumps to three-fourths, after a year. In fact, 20 percent of all U.S. prison inmates report to having molested a child. State prisons typically attempt to isolate convicted molesters from the general population, to prevent savage beatings and worse... (even armed robbers and murderers find child molesters to be repugnant). However, incarceration does nothing to end their desire to abuse children. You simply cannot punish the evil 'out of someone'--you can only extinguish that evil. According to the National Institutes of Health, the average child molester sexually abuses 117 children over his lifetime. When you consider all of the relationships that child will have (parents, siblings, grandparents, friends, spouse, their own children)--the number of lives affected by such a damaging event is astounding. We currently deal with the molester with incarceration and so-called "rehabilitation" Once that molester is released, most states require that he registers himself as a sex-offender. There are currently more than 400,000 registered sex-offenders in the United States. This tactic too has proven useless. California for instance, recently reported that they cannot account for the whereabouts of 33,000 of their registered offenders. When one considers that the crime of child molestation is an incredibly
under-reported crime, the evil that this nation's children face is overwhelming.
According to the FBI, less than 10 percent of molestations are ever reported.
Many Europeans found it easier to simply turn away, as the Nazis massacred the Jews. They found it easy that is, until their own loved-ones were in danger. We can no longer turn a blind eye to the hordes of child molesters, preying upon our children. If we do not protect the most vulnerable amongst us...We deserve all of the suffering which this life can offer. It is time to demand from our legislators and our courts, that those who rob children of their innocence be put to death. It is not only a just punishment, but the most effective way to prevent more children from becoming victims. Let us rid this nation of child molesters, the way we rid the world
of Nazis. If our legislators and judges lack the courage to do so...then
they can consider themselves just as guilty as predators they protect!
After completing two years at Tidewater Community College, Dave Gibson became a Virginia Beach Deputy Sheriff. He has since left the department and now owns a small business in the city of Chesapeake, Virginia. An active volunteer in many animal organizations, he has worked at the Virginia Zoo, the Norfolk SPCA, and currently works for the K-9 New Life Center based in Virginia Beach.
Judge Gave Indications of Suicide
February 19, 2005 Before he shot himself in a park, a judge who had been accused of child molestation called the allegations a "bombshell" that would destroy him, according to excerpts of his suicide note obtained by The Times. "Such an accusation, once made, is indefensible," Los Angeles County Superior Court Judge L. Jeffrey Wiatt wrote in a letter authorities found in his Valencia home before he committed suicide Feb. 10. "Once arrested, as a judge, my career and life is over." On Feb. 9, Los Angeles County sheriff's deputies responded to a report of a marital disturbance at his home. Wiatt's wife, who has declined all requests for interviews, said Wiatt was suicidal over the impending breakup of their marriage, said Capt. Raymond H. Peavy of the sheriff's homicide bureau, in a written statement. Once deputies arrived, the veteran judge — who appeared calm and rational — talked them into letting him drive away. "He didn't show signs of mental distress," said Lt. Andy Ramirez, head of the sheriff's crisis response team dispatched to the judge's home. "He told us he would not hurt himself." In an interview Friday, Ramirez said deputies left Wiatt's home thinking: "We saved a life that day. He didn't kill himself that day." "For us, that was a success," Ramirez said. Deputies did not learn of the suicide letter until after they let Wiatt drive away. Deputies said they handled the case properly and professionally and did not afford Wiatt any special consideration because of his judicial position. Wiatt, 61, once presided over high-profile murder cases at the San Fernando courthouse. The child sex abuse allegations and his suicide sent shock waves through the Los Angeles legal community. A former prosecutor for the Los Angeles County district attorney's office as well as a private criminal defense attorney, Wiatt also once served as chairman of the juvenile justice committee of the California State Bar. On Feb. 9, after negotiators arrived, Wiatt made it clear that he would not let them into his house. "We did not have a duty to enter the house except to make a life-saving effort," Ramirez said. "No crime had been committed. If we went in, it would create a confrontation and a potential suicide by cop." "We thought a change in his environment would be better," Ramirez said. "This would give him time to think about it. The decision was to allow him to leave." The deputies agreed not to stop Wiatt as he drove away. The decision was made collectively, with a Santa Clarita station watch commander having the final say, Ramirez said. The judge also refused all offers of mental health help, but he agreed to leave his gun in the home, Ramirez said. The Sheriff's Department does not have any specific policy mandating that a suicidal suspect be taken into custody or that a mental health evaluation be sought, especially when the person is at home, Ramirez said. "The criteria is they must be a clear danger to themselves or gravely disabled," he said. "He'd made a statement to a third party. He wouldn't be interviewed and wouldn't talk about the suicide. If he had come out and talked about the suicide we'd have been able to make a [mental health] assessment." A subsequent investigation indicated that "he and Mrs. Wiatt were experiencing increasing marital difficulties and that Judge Wiatt alluded to suicide as recently as two weeks prior to that date," according to Peavy. In addition to alluding to the child sex abuse claims, the judge's letter expressed his hopelessness and despair over "an extended history of marital disharmony" as well as "the apparent failure of counseling," according to Peavy. On Feb. 10, the Sheriff's Department was notified that Wiatt had driven away from his home with a gun. By using a commercial anti-theft device on the judge's car, deputies followed him to Towsley Canyon Park in Stevenson Ranch. "Sheriff's investigators finally managed to contact Judge Wiatt on his cellphone that afternoon, expressing their concern for his safety," according to a statement signed by Peavy. "Judge Wiatt denied any inappropriate conduct but admitted he was in possession of a handgun and was still considering suicide." The judge then hung up and put a gun to his head as deputies watched from afar. They found his body slumped next to his car.
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