Sunday, February 5, 2017

THE UNEXPLAINED EMAIL



I cannot explain it; I will not try; I would like to believe it was Angie, but I cannot. During the week of 7 November 2004, for six days in a row, we repeatedly received the same two e-mails from Angela Dales. Each time the messages were identical. The first said, “Hello.” The second said, “Thanks.” Several times a day the messages would come in—always the same, first, “Hello” and then “Thanks.”

I told Janice it had to be a virus somewhere, somehow a virus was still out there, a virus that had picked up messages from Angie’s computer before her death. That had to be the explanation. Maybe it was the same virus that prompted the hideous e-mail that school authorities and the police were so cavalier in handling. Then, on 12 November, the day the lawsuit was settled, the messages stopped. Could this be a coincidence? We want so much to believe it was Angie. We want to believe with every fiber in us that Angie was trying to talk to us, to tell us she was all right.

That was not the first unexplained event that occurred. Six months after Angie was murdered, we returned to Cooperstown, New York, the site of our last vacation with Angie and Rebecca. It was a difficult trip; it was painful. The summer before had been perfect. We had been there on the Fourth of July, 2001. The weather had been perfect; we had relaxed; we had had a great time. It had been so good, so sweet.

Here we were again on the Fourth of July the following year, 2002. This time it was not good; it was not sweet; it was agony. Janice was having an especially difficult time—everywhere we went there were memories of the summer before. In the immediate aftermath of Angie’s death, the stress had been so bad that Janice had lost large clumps of hair. The hair loss had finally stopped, but the stress was nearly as great that July in New York as it had been in the immediate aftermath of the shooting.

On our way back to Virginia we were silent. Binghamton passed unnoticed, Scranton disappeared in a fog. We said little to each other. At Harrisburg we stopped for the night. After checking into our hotel we found a restaurant nearby. A very pretty young blonde waitress bearing a striking resemblance to Angie came up to our table, knelt down and said softly, “I’m Angela and I will be with you tonight.” She didn’t say, “How may I help you?” or “I’m Angela, I will be your server tonight.” She said, “I will be with you tonight.” Suddenly tears flowed down my wife’s cheeks. She felt calm; she felt warm, she felt life would be better; we knew we would recover. To this day Janice believes the presence of that Angie was not just coincidence.


Even if the messages were from Angie, there was little solace for all of us on that bleak Friday in November when the case settled. The legal victory was hollow. (To be continued)

Saturday, February 4, 2017

IN VIRGINIA OK TO LOOK THE OTHER WAY



Lax on Violence

In Virginia go ahead and arm anyone who is a threat to himself or herself, go ahead and pay the way for mass murder—arm any miscreant. But don’t say a dirty word or anything sexually suggestive—there will be swift retribution.

Part of what I said in the last posting is worth repeating. As a manager in the government I was trained on my responsibilities—professional and legal. On sexual harassment by one of my subordinates, I could be held responsible even if I did not know about it—because I should have known about it. If the law takes this firm a stand on an off-color joke or remark that can be interpreted as “harassment,” why is Virginia law so lax on workplace violence or murder? Not only should the law school have known about Odighizuwa’s violent tendencies—it did know about them.

In Virginia, apparently as long as you talk the good talk, as long as you spout the right moral words and family values, there is no need to take responsibility, no need to act. Go ahead look the other way—look the other way especially if guns, violence, or murder are involved.

In other words, in the Old Dominion if someone has a record of violence, if he or she is violent, you have “no need to know, no need to act.” You have the right to look the other way—even in the case of potential violence including murder. But, when it comes to off color jokes or sexual harassment, you must act. (To be continued)

There is something I am missing in this logic—or maybe I am just naïve. (To be continued)

Friday, February 3, 2017

HOODWINKING THE PUBLIC



A very potent and successful propaganda campaign has been pulled together to discredit personal injury cases. By selectively reporting on high profile cases, those who want to free all businesses of liability have been able to hoodwink the public and convince many Americans that the reason insurance premiums are high is the settlements. They don’t tell you about the huge bonuses and all-expenses paid travel of insurance company officials. Nor do they mention the lavish gifts, donations, and hunting trips that are given to politicians and judges.

The public is not told of some of the questionable practices of insurance companies in order to ring every last dime out of policyholders. I was reminded of an acquaintance that was once employed by a leading health insurance company. She was instructed to turn down a certain number of claims—even though the claims were legitimate. The reason the company used was that only a small percent of the policyholders would appeal or challenge the rejection. The company then pays those challenging, but the number who do not appeal is sufficient enough to help the company’s profits. This whole unethical conduct should cause Americans to question how closely should our health and our insurance in general should be tied to the draconian drive to inflate profits.

How many reading this remember the McDonald’s incident when a woman was burned by hot coffee? How many read in the media the true facts? How many knew that McDonald’s boiled its coffee at scalding temperatures and had received over 700 claims from people who had been burned by their coffee between 1982 and 1992? Some of these complaints involved third degree burns. Despite these burns and these complaints, McDonalds continued to prepare its coffee at 180 to 190 degrees Fahrenheit to maintain maximum taste. Other restaurants prepare their coffee at substantial lower temperatures—135 to 140 degrees Fahrenheit.

How many know that the victim, Stella Liebeck, suffered third degree burns over six percent of her body—including her inner thighs, perineum, buttocks, and genital and groin areas. She underwent skin grafting during her eight days in the hospital. How many, if any, of the public know the true facts of any lawsuit? Our knowledge is filtered through people and interest groups who have an agenda. We know what the press and the legal profession want us to know.

How many newspapers carried stories about the arrogance of the McDonalds’ lawyers, arguing that the fast food chain serves $2.7 million in coffee every two days. The condescending and dismissive attitude of the McDonald’s lawyers was not lost on the jury. Apparently the jury decided that McDonalds’ pompous lawyers dictated the settlement and awarded Ms. Liebeck $2.7 million in punitive damages—just the amount McDonald’s makes on coffee in two days.

As a manager in the government I was trained on my responsibilities—professional and legal. On sexual harassment by one of my subordinates, I could be held responsible even if I did not know about it—because I should have known about it. If the law takes this firm a stand on an off-color joke or remark that can be interpreted as “harassment,” why is Virginia law so lax on workplace violence or murder?


In the case of Angela Dales murder at the Appalachian School of Law, not only should the law school have known about Odighizuwa’s violent, the school did know. But the school was never held accountable or asked to explain anything. (To be continued)

Thursday, February 2, 2017

BUYING POLITICIANS


A lawyer-friend in northern Virginia (and our own counsel) told us that in almost any other state our granddaughter’s case would be incredibly strong—but not in Virginia. She shook her head in embarrassment, saying that in Virginia when a law is proposed that would make state or private institutions responsible for the violence on their grounds—when there is ample warning and it could be prevented—that law is voted down. The wealthy developers in Virginia open their pocket books and make generous donations to politicians. Judges are invited to exclusive golf outings—the protection of our children on school grounds becomes a “frivolous lawsuit.”

The more I researched the court decisions, trials, and media coverage of those legal actions, the more convinced I became that a disinformation campaign against the average citizen is underway. The sad truth is that most of the public is not well informed on the law and court decisions. What they know is filtered through the sensationalism of television and the press. The picture that began to emerge is one where wealthy business interests, ultra-conservative politicians and their sympathizers have orchestrated a campaign to define as “frivolous suits” any legal action that holds private business accountable.

A very potent and successful propaganda campaign has been pulled together to discredit personal injury cases. By selectively reporting on high profile cases, those who want to free all businesses of liability have been able to hoodwink the public and convince many Americans that the reason insurance premiums are high is the settlements. They don’t tell you about the huge bonuses and all-expenses paid travel of insurance company officials. Nor do they mention the lavish gifts, donations, and hunting trips that are given to politicians and judges.

The public is not told of some of the questionable practices of insurance companies in order to ring every last dime out of policyholders. I was reminded of an acquaintance that was once employed by a leading health insurance company. She was instructed to turn down a certain number of claims—even though the claims were legitimate. The reason the company used was that only a small percent of the policyholders would appeal or challenge the rejection. The company then pays those challenging, but the number who do not appeal is sufficient enough to help the company’s profits. This whole unethical conduct should cause Americans to question how closely should our health and our insurance in general should be tied to the draconian drive to inflate profits.

How many reading this book remember the McDonald’s incident when a woman was burned by hot coffee? How many read in the media the true facts? How many knew that McDonald’s boiled its coffee at scalding temperatures and had received over 700 claims from people who had been burned by their coffee between 1982 and 1992? Some of these complaints involved third degree burns. Despite these burns and these complaints, McDonalds continued to prepare its coffee at 180 to 190 degrees Fahrenheit to maintain maximum taste. Other restaurants prepare their coffee at substantial lower temperatures—135 to 140 degrees Fahrenheit.

How many know that the victim, Stella Liebeck, suffered third degree burns over six percent of her body—including her inner thighs, perineum, buttocks, and genital and groin areas. She underwent skin grafting during her eight days in the hospital. How many, if any, of the public know the true facts of any lawsuit? Our knowledge is filtered through people and interest groups who have an agenda. We know what the press and the legal profession want us to know.

How many newspapers carried stories about the arrogance of the McDonalds’ lawyers, arguing that the fast food chain serves $2.7 million in coffee every two days. The condescending and dismissive attitude of the McDonald’s lawyers was not lost on the jury. Apparently the jury decided that McDonalds’ pompous lawyers dictated the settlement and awarded Ms. Liebeck $2.7 million in punitive damages—just the amount McDonald’s makes on coffee in two days.

As a manager in the government I was trained on my responsibilities—professional and legal. On sexual harassment by one of my subordinates, I could be held responsible even if I did not know about it—because I should have known about it. If the law takes this firm a stand on an off-color joke or remark that can be interpreted as “harassment,” why is Virginia law so lax on workplace violence or murder? Not only should the law school have known about Odighizuwa’s violent tendencies—it did know about them. (To be continued)


Wednesday, February 1, 2017

VIRGINIA LAWS PROTECT INSTITUTIONS, NOT PEOPLE



In Virginia, if the law is not specifically written to protect public institutions and organizations such as schools and universities from legal action, the law is consistently interpreted that way. The Virginia Supreme Court has said, “In Virginia, we adhere to the rule that the owner or occupier of land ordinarily is under no duty to protect an invitee from a third person’s criminal act committed while the invitee is upon the premises.” Gupton v. Quicke, 247 VA. 362, 363, 442 S.E.2d 658, 658 (1994). The court has also said that, “We also have stressed that ‘before any duty can arise with regard to the conduct of third persons, there must be a special relationship between the defendant and either the plaintiff or the third person.”

Special Relationship

Peter Odighizuwa had a “special relationship” with the Appalachian School of Law. Ironically, one of the victims—Dean Sutin—had done a great deal to help Odighizuwa. There is ample evidence that Peter Odighizuwa received “special treatment” from the school. For example, Sutin raised enough money to buy Odighizuwa a car, clothes, and food. I can find no examples of this being done for any other student. As already noted in this book, Dean Sutin helped Odighizuwa get a loan of $19,000 to reenter the school in the fall of 2001. There is a great deal of evidence that the Appalachian School of Law bent over backwards to ensure that Odighizuwa could continue his studies. For example, while other students flunked out, Mr. Odighizuwa was given the opportunity to drop classes so that he could remain a student in good standing and the school would have its minority student.

It would be hard for anyone to deny that there was a “special relationship” between Peter Odighizuwa and the Appalachian School of Law. The lawsuit filed on behalf of our granddaughter was settled out of court, so we will never know if the courts would have recognized this “special relationship.” The fact that a settlement was reached certainly is an indication that the school felt the evidence of this relationship existed. The school did not settle for the full amount of their liability insurance policy out of the goodness of their heart. They did not settle because they had $1 million lying around and didn’t know what to do with it. The law school settled because it was genuinely concerned that even in Virginia they would be found culpable.

In settling the lawsuit to avoid going to trial, the school said it did nothing wrong, it admitted no guilt. If true, then in Virginia—the way the law is interpreted—the school could easily have won because even when a “special relationship” exists, and the Virginia Supreme Court acknowledges that it exists, the court has ruled that the business owner has no obligation to protect anyone.

In the case of Wright v Webb, 234 Va. at 533, 362, S.E.2d at 922, (1987) the court addressed the “special relationship” between the business owner and the invitee. The court held “that despite the existence of that special relationship, the business owner does not owe a duty of care to protect its invitee unless it ‘knows that criminal assaults against persons are occurring, or are about to occur, on the premises which indicate an imminent probability of harm to (its) invitee.’” The court went on to say, “We further held that for the duty to be imposed there must be ‘notice of a specific danger just prior to the assault.” In our case, there was a history of Peter Odighizuwa’s violence and threats on the school grounds. The Virginia Supreme Court, in other words, acknowledges owners have responsibilities in certain cases to guard or warn against violence. But the court itself in the case of Michael R. Dudas vs. Glenwood Golf Club, Inc., 261 Va. 133,540 S.E. 2d 129 Va. Lexis 5, (2001) describes this responsibility as a “narrow exception.” The court sets the bar so high that private businesses are all but immune from prosecution. The Virginia Supreme Court says that in its view “to require a business owner who, through no fault of its own, has been victimized by assaultive criminals coming onto its property, to thereafter give warnings of the remote but potential danger of injury from the acts of such criminals would unfairly burden that business owner in light of the potential harm such warnings could do its reputation and the loss of its trade which would inevitably result.”

It is next to impossible to read the mountains of court findings and not come to the conclusion that the legal profession and courts in Virginia are more concerned about protecting businesses and profits, than protecting human life and safety. The court seems to be saying that to make a business—whether it is convenience store or private law school—responsible to warn its employees or customers about potential danger is “unfair.” Unfair to whom? It is unfair to Angie that she lost her right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It is unfair to our granddaughter that she lost a loving and caring mother.

If you listen to the media in Virginia, you come away with the feeling that the state is overwhelmingly a “right to life” state. But when you examine the actions of the courts you realize that “right to life” is only for the unborn; “right to life” often does not extend to the living. This right does not extent to a young woman sitting in the student lounge at the Appalachian School of Law having lunch. The “right to life” in Virginia, appears to be narrowly defined to fit the rights of businesses. To quote William Bennett, “Where is the outrage?” Where is the anger over this hypocrisy?

Throughout the United States, the law does acknowledge “norms” of behavior in many professions. In universities and colleges throughout the country and in Virginia, the norm includes campus security. Industry and professional “norms” are often cited in lawsuits. It is ironic that a school that trains lawyers to examine “norms” and “standards” would disregard safety norms.

Campus security specialists say that part of their job is to identify students who have abnormal behavior, and get them help before something happens. What a simple, elementary concept. Yet this simple “norm” apparently escaped the attention of the law school faculty and administrative staff.

The Appalachian School of Law had no campus security at the time of the shooting. Since January 16, 2002, they have hired a night watchman. The shooting occurred during the day, not at night. Students I have talked to report that his main function appears to be to sleep on the job. Throughout Virginia other small schools do have security and crisis plans. Schools such as Lynchburg College and Randolph Macon College have plans in place to deal with and respond to a crisis. The Appalachian School had no such plan, and to my knowledge has no such plan to this day.

A check of over 40 institutions of higher learning in Virginia—private and public—found that all had campus security predating September 11th. Only the Appalachian School of Law had no campus security.

Technically, under Virginia law the Appalachian School of Law argues that it had no responsibility to have campus security —but in the American legal system, technically is the refuge of scoundrels. Technically is what allows those with connections--the wealthy and the influential--to ignore legal standards, common sense, the norm, and common decency.


The school--as much as anyone in Virginia--understands that there are standards of any profession to which members of that profession are expected to adhere. This rule most certainly applied to campus security. Indeed, schools throughout Virginia not only have campus security, but many have emergency response teams and action plans; the Appalachian School of Law had none—nothing. (To be continued)