The Verdict

It was the start of a highly contested battle. In the morning I went for a run. I ran to close to a mail box and its metallic handle caught my T-shirt sleeve, ripping it. After writing several blog posts I decided to go downtown and surprise Terry by stopping by her office. Walking downtown I noticed the constant sound of helicopters. They were hovering by the courthouse and I realized that the Casey Anthony trial must have come to a close. I walked towards the courthouse. I knew that Brian Feldman had gotten into the courtroom so I texted him to find out what was going on inside. I didn’t know this at the time, but the verdict had been read several hours earlier. When I didn’t hear back from Brian, I turned off my cell phone.

A hot dog vendor next to the courthouse was arguing with a costomer at his stand. He said, “I can’t believe they found her not guilty of child neglect!” That was the moment when I knew the verdict. I saw a crowd of people outside the Bank of America building and I wondered what was up. News anchor Geraldo Rivera shuffled out of the crowd onto the street. A man rushed up to him and asked for a photo.

Across the street from the courthouse there was an empty lot full of news vans. I sat in the shadow of a fence and started sketching the channel 13 news crew. A female newscaster practiced for her report. Crowds of people rushed around shooting photos and home movies with their iPhones. A man walked by holding a sign that said “Murderer!” He raised it over his head pointing it towards the circus of news vans in the empty lot. The woman with him shouted out with a drawl, “Come out of there Geraldo!” She must have been angry about the verdict and blamed the messenger. Two bystanders shouted out “Hey Casey’s parents just got in that Black SUV!” The SUV drove off and they waved. The windows were tinted so I couldn’t see inside. An ant bit my hand and I flicked it off.

Terry and Amanda were meeting for Margaritas at Paxia. I decided to join them. As I walked away the sounds of the helicopters slowly dimmed. Here one day, gone one night.