Lady Justice, Nancy Grace and Me

By Donna R. Gore, M.A.

Judith Resnik and Dennis Curtis are authors of “Representing Justice.” According to a recent New York Times review, the book is a strange academic marriage of “interviews with contemporary artists and Supreme Court citations.” As a team, they have exhaustively covered the topic of the figure commonly known as “Lady Justice,” the famous blindfolded woman righteously holding a set of scales and sometimes other apparatus…

In ancient Egypt, she was known as “Maat,” Goddess of harmony and order depicted in the “Book of the Dead.” Her scales supposedly weighed a human heart against a feather, to “determine a soul’s fate in the afterlife.”

(Author’s note- How ironic a comparison that, the earthly and frequently unjust decisions regarding survivors of crime frequently could easily “knock one over with a feather” and seemly are totally clueless when it comes to the human heart….)

In ancient Greece, Lady Justice was known as “Themis,” aunt, wife and counselor to Zeus. (Author’s note- We assume that intermarriage was “just and good,” for, according to Greek Mythology, he was the God of the sky and weather and his image appeared on most Greek coins. The people of Greece worshipped this idol as their god. Zeus became one of the Seven Wonders of the World.)

Our omnipresent female figure was also known as “Justitia” – Latin for Lady Justice. LJ embodies a combination of divine order and rightness of law. These attributes include a set of scales, measuring the strength of a case’s support and opposition suspended from her left hand. Her right hand typically holds a double edge sword, thus symbolizing the power of reason and justice.

The Roman depiction of Lady Justice was sometimes portrayed as holding the fasces (i.e. a bundle of rods around an ax) symbolizing judicial authority….and a flame in the other hand, symbolizing truth.
Such descriptions remind this author of another “larger than life figure of American mythology- (i.e. Superman in his everlasting pursuit of Truth, Justice and the American Way…)

It is written that Lady Justice’s blindfold represents objectivity and impartiality. The blindfold itself began to appear in the 15th Century. Since that time, some sculptures have excluded it as redundant because Lady Justice herself acts as a human scale weighing competing claims in each hand. Others have said that her “maidenly form guarantees impartiality.” Still another explanation was that, according to ancient Greeks, her talent to foresee the future made a blindfold unnecessary.

Why all of this historical talk about Lady Justice? When I became a crime victim and eventual survivor of homicide, I was intrigued by these statues of power. They seemed to represent all I stood for or aspired to as a strong gay woman, overcoming so many obstacles over the years with disability and seeking justice for the murder of my father and subsequently a new career goal.

A specific depiction that spoke volumes to me, is the graphic of the Lady Justice statute featured in my last bog, (Voir Dire, Oh Dear!) in which Justitia is seated, holding the scales of justice in her left hand and gently wipes a tear from her cheek with her right hand. Compassion and strength- what a perfect marriage! This statuette is proudly displayed “center stage” in my living room for all to see!

Now, if you will, fast forward with me to the year 2006 or thereabouts. In the middle of our past decade, I was a big fan of the original
Court TV cable show with Nancy Grace, former prosecutor and homicide survivor.

(Author’s note- I would say that in recent years, unfortunately, she appears to have sold her integrity to sensationalism TV with Jerry Springer- like tactics as compared to her Court TV days.) If I am wrong, I will gladly stand corrected. I have not seen much of any daytime TV either Nancy or Oprah, as I am always working…. However, I think, in her heyday, Nancy was an untainted advocate representing all crime victims for a slice of justice.

In Connecticut, we are very fortunate to have the premier crime victim conference in the nation dedicated to the furtherance of education and the providing a platform for retaining the memories of those who have been murdered by violent crime. It is known as the Melanie I. Reiger Memorial Conference named after a young woman and aspiring social worker who was needlessly snuffed out of this life by a former boyfriend. Her parents honor her each year with this wonderful conference.

In 2006, Sam and Wanda Reiger had retained the services of Nancy Grace as keynote speaker in order to share her story as a homicide survivor and later as a highly successful prosecutor, in honor of her former fiancé. As it turns out, her keynote speech was very effective, touching, and powerful. Nancy told her story of a small town southern girl who had hopes of being an English teacher, whose world was turned upside down and forever changed with the murder of her fiancé.

Coincidentally, I had located the lovely and poignant “Crying Lady Justice” statuette and was contemplating its purchase before the conference. I was excited about the prospect of meeting Nancy Grace and hearing her story. And then the idea came to me…. Eureka! Why not purchase a second statuette for Nancy as a way of thanking her on behalf of all Connecticut crime victims. It seemed like another $70 to $100 was well worth the cause.
To me, it seemed to be perfect. Nancy was the epitome of Lady Justice after all. However, the best laid plans…. The conference agenda was set with no time to spare. So, I would have to do a personal hand off in the hall of the Department of Correction’s Auditorium.
(Not exactly how I pictured it).

Indeed, Nancy was surrounded by a flock of fans. In hindsight, I should have removed “LJ” from her box rather than explaining the reason for it. Nancy thanked me in a harried way and handed “the box” to her producer. I remember asking for a contact to follow-up, but none was given.

I have no idea where Nancy’s “master of justice, divine order and prophecy” is today. Is it on her coffee table at home, at her office or used as a conversation piece? Hopefully, it speaks to her as it does to me… Such was our close encounter survivor to survivor. I never received, nor did I expect a Hallmark card in return… but it would have been nice, to say the least!

I may try to contact Nancy in the future. If I do, she may just remember me as the “Connecticut based “Lady Justice.”

Should any Time’s Up blog readers/writers have interest in viewing one sample collection of these fine examples of judicial symbolism, click on: http://mdean.tripod.com/justice.html
There are many different versions of the image of the Goddess of Justice that can be found on the internet, after clicking on in the links below. To avoid pop-up ads, you may wish to open the links using the right button on your mouse and clicking on 'open new window’.

Indeed, justice is always a double edged sword!


Respectfully Submitted,

Donna R. Gore, M. A.
Homicide Survivor in Connecticut
January 1, 2011

Above and Beyond Closure

By Charles Moncrief

It ain't over 'til it's over.
Yogi Berra (1925-)


When we look at an outline that approximates a shape, our minds tend to fill in any gaps and complete the shape. For instance, if we see what looks like a circle with a missing arc segment of, say, 30 degrees, we likely “see” a complete circle. This tendency to “close up” a shape by mentally filling in the gaps is known as “closure.”

Closure works at the car wash as well. I remember the workers waving their towels to let me know they’ve completed drying and cleaning my car, only to come out and discover dirt all over the wheels. To them, closure apparently came when they had spent 90 seconds wiping down my vehicle.

Closure in a tax audit is when the taxing agent says “I really can’t find anything wrong, but I need to show my manager something for my time. Would you just sign this consent for a hundred dollars additional tax and we’ll call it even?” and the speed with which the consent form is signed just to get out of that office (from a lecture by tax expert Dan Pilla).

Closure in a traffic stop is when the officer quits badgering the driver who did nothing wrong and walks away saying “Drive carefully.” (This was a personal experience when an officer stopped me for driving on the left side of a street, and accused me of arguing when I said it had been one way for several weeks. OK, OK, I’m not over it, but I hold onto it because it makes for a good story after more than 30 years.)

Closure in a trauma is when the stitches are removed, the assailant is in prison, or the victim escapes from an attacker.

One definition of closure is “the often comforting sense of finality, such as with victims needing closure, or a satisfying ending that provides such a sense.” (Merriam-Webster online dictionary)

So in our modern society the accepted psychological model of mental health is to put our injuries behind us and get on with our lives. Far be it from me to encroach on psychology’s sacred ground by offering a superior definition of the word. Instead, permit me to offer a better way: to reach beyond mere closure.

Consider “The Bridge Builder” by Will Allen Dromgoole (1860-1934).

An old man, going a lone highway,
Came, at the evening, cold and gray,
To a chasm, vast, and deep, and wide,
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.

The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
The sullen stream had no fear for him;
But he turned, when safe on the other side,
And built a bridge to span the tide.

"Old man," said a fellow pilgrim, near,
"You are wasting strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again will pass this way;
You've crossed the chasm, deep and wide-
Why build you this bridge at the evening tide?"

The builder lifted his old gray head:
"Good friend, in the path I have come," he said,
"There followeth after me today,
A youth, whose feet must pass this way.

This chasm, that has been naught to me,
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him."

I think this poem is the author’s way of saying “Yogi, it ain’t over even when it’s over!”

How does this poem apply to closure, abuse, assault, or injustice? I want to give just one example from a recent article (Born to Run by Anny Jacoby)

A woman on a jogging path is attacked by someone who jumps out from behind a bush. She struggles and frees herself. She gets treatment at the local hospital, then goes home, dresses her wounds, maybe cries tears of relief, and perhaps collapses in exhaustion. That’s closure.

But then she gathers her thoughts. She goes to the police with the assailant’s DNA under her fingernails and a vivid description of him. Now, if the assailant doesn’t skip town and the police and courts do their job, one less danger is present in this jogging park.

Look forward. This woman’s action helps to prevent the next person from being assaulted, raped, robbed, or possibly killed. She wasn’t content to cross over the chasm. She built a bridge for the next jogger.

Look backward. Suppose this woman was not the first jogger assaulted by this man. Her predecessor, if still alive, may have escaped with some of her life and possessions. But did the previous jogger, content with finding closure for herself, have some accountability for not reporting as much as she could to get this despicable person off the streets and out of the parks?

I know this is a complex situation. I won’t suggest in any way that a person should be condemned or even criticized for remaining silent. My only position is to applaud those who act to prevent recurrence, not to criticize those who don’t.

Who knows whether this man had ever attacked anyone else? And who knows why nobody before was able to get the man put away? But such questions can go on indefinitely and paralyze us. I’ll counter with the accepted reality that of all the parks in this country, the incidence of repeat violence is enough to make the case for bridge-building. At the same time, I’ll caution that in our analysis of cause-and-effect we never want to condemn the previous jogger, if any, for failing to prevent this assault.

I do hope that it will make at least some sense to hold accountable those who fail to reign in their actions. Every time we allow someone to get away with misbehavior, whether in domestic violence, criminal assault, or bad-faith representation in the halls of government, we make it easier for the assailants to hurt our children and grandchildren. Once a bad behavior is tolerated, regaining control becomes increasingly difficult.

Don’t your children and grandchildren deserve your vigilance, to hold accountable those who teach, govern, and live in community with them? We at least ought to consider the advantages of not making them struggle to cross the same old chasms we ourselves have already crossed.

Grace and Peace,
Charles+

BTW, I chose “The Bridge Builder” for a reason. While it has a lot of masculine language in it, please note that Will Allen Dromgoole was a woman.