Accepting the plea in court

The court day had been looming for days.  My attorney and the DA managed to get time with the judge during a private court session so nobody else would be in the room, not even the press.  I hadn’t slept much the night before stressing over the day ahead.  We arrived early as requested by our attorney and waited in the 50s styled waiting room to enter the courtroom.  My wife, my father, step mother and two older boys sat there with me.  I didn’t want my kids to come, but they insisted as they wanted to support me.  It was a show of unity and while we wouldn’t say much of anything during court, the fact that we were all together supporting each other was a message way more than any words could express.

My attorney had met with my wife and I a few days before and explained to us exactly what we could expect.  He expected the mother, based on his conversations with the DA, to be very dramatic and she had prepared a statement that she would address directly at me.  This was no surprise, as the mother was a dramatic person anyway.  She seemed to live for it.  His recommendation was for me to say nothing and if I could help it, not to even look at the girl’s family.  He strongly advised me to say nothing, as it wouldn’t help the situation any and could possibly cause the judge to question the plea agreement.  I didn’t realize this, but judge’s have the power to deny plea agreements and force you to trial.

The Courtroom

Our attorney went into the courtroom and came back out a few minutes later.  He told us to come in and that the DA and mother hadn’t arrived yet.  I was seated upfront next to my attorney and my family behind me.  I looked straight ahead and just prayed for peace and that this would quickly be over.

A few minutes later my wife told me they were walking in.  Both the father and mother of the girl came.  I refused to give them the satisfaction of me acknowledging them.  We all sat in what seemed like an eternity of silence, until court was started and the judge walked in.

After the girl’s family was seated, the DA over viewed the case along with the fact we had come to a plea agreement.  The agreement was given to the judge for review and the judge allowed the mother to speak.  I detested the way the DA stated factually that I had molested the little girl in my home.  She never said accused, just that I had done it.  She also left out much of the detail that makes the story seem like such a lie.  Listening to her speak, it literally made me sick to my stomach.  For a few minutes, I literally thought I might have to excuse myself.  I felt somewhat ashamed as I sat there knowing I was basically there to admit to a crime  that I hadn’t truely done.

The judge then gave the mother an opportunity to speak.  As expected, she proceeded to tell how devastated the supposed events had been on their family, how she had trusted me and I had violated that trust.  She cried and even border lined on shouting a few times.   I never once looked at her.  I looked straight ahead.  Every nerve in my body wanted to stand up and should back: “You!?  You!?  What about what you’ve done to my life?? You have no clue what you have put me and my family through!  Why would you do this?  Why would you make up something so horrible?”

I wanted to tell her how her unfounded accusations had ruined our lives, how we had lost friends and how our kids were made fun of at school.  I wanted to tell her about how I had cried for days after being taken from my family and how I had to take prescription drugs just to sleep at night.  During her “speech” she also mentioned how much the counseling had cost her when they didn’t have much money to begin with.  Trust me, the $2000 she supposedly spent on counseling was a drop in the bucket to the almost $30,000 this whole case cost me by the time it was all said and done.  Funny, we never received proof of any counseling.

She finally finished saying only that she hoped that both families could now move on.  What?  Move on?  Easy for her to say, I still faced 18 more months of probation and a lifetime of dealing with this and having to explain it.  The judge asked me if I had anything to say.  I hesitated for a few seconds, and slowly responded: “No your honor.”  Not saying anything was hard, but I knew my attorney was right.  There was nothing to be gained by saying anything and I just wanted this over.  While saying some words might make me feel better temporarily, it wouldn’t change the end result.  It was what it was.

Probation

We walked out the courtroom immediately and I was told I needed to walk down immediately and register with my probation.  I was a bit caught off guard at that, as my attorney had not explained that I would need to do this.  Just another inconvenience in a year or more of many many extreme hardships I suppose.  My family left to wait in the car while I walked down the long old hallway at the court house towards the probation office. More than  18 months behind me, now another 18 months ahead of me.  All I could think about was the 4 years of my life torn apart by the false accusation of my 4 year old little girl and her mother.  I still don’t understand how this can happen, but it did.

“Hi, I’m here to meet with my probation officer, I just left court.”

“She’ll be with you in a moment, please have a seat in the hallway”.

I sat down in an area with 2 or 3 other people.  I looked out of place and felt out of place.  I was now a criminal, with a record to prove it.  I felt ashamed, hurt, betrayed and angry.  Even though I had done nothing wrong, I felt guilty.  I felt guilty because I was there.   I also felt guilty for the shame this had brought to my wife, my kids, my parents, my friends.  At least this stage was over.  I sat there waiting and wondering what new surprises lurked behind the probation door.