The Past Week

This past Tuesday Della and I were asked to appear at the preliminary hearing for the man who had stabbed Doug. The  police sergeant who called told us we might have to testify during the hearing. This surprised us since neither of us had actually witnessed the stabbing, but the sergeant thought we might have something to add to the proceedings. So Wednesday, the 30th of September, at 1 PM we appeared at the West Deer District Court. I've had business with the court before, so I was not surprised at the crowd in the corridor/waiting room. It is one of the sleaziest court buildings of any sort that I have been it. The floors are dirty, the walls need painting, the rest room (unisex) is indescribable. Lawyers are milling around with their clients and clients' families. They tended to be short, with pinstripe suits and shiny hair, and most appeared to be chewing gum or breath mints. They carried attache cases and grasped sheets of paper in in finely manicured hands. Their clients dressed in jeans and work clothes. One woman had black nail polish, black clothes, tattoos, piercings and black boots. Quite a few people in the waiting rooms had tattoos they made no attempt to conceal.  

Della and I stood for nearly twenty minutes in the corridor before the police sergeant brought us to a "room" adjacent to the courtroom. There were chairs for us to sit on - right next to Doug and his wife Leanne. Doug had gone through a fairly extensive surgery, but was discharged from the hospital two days after the stabbing. He seemed in good spirits. He told us that he might lose permanently the use of his right hand - the muscle and tendons in the arm were cut so badly. He was worried that the stabber's attorney might claim that the man stabbed Doug in self-defense. Apparently, Doug had placed his hand on the man's truck door. The four of us talked about the day's events and speculated what we might have to do in the courtroom. Obviously, Doug would have to testify.

The sergeant had informed us we were last on the court docket, and it was two hours before we were called to the courtroom. The district court's courtroom is small, and very crowded. There is really no place for spectators. Witnesses, district attorneys and defense attorneys, complainants, defendants, witnesses, constables, and court reporters fill the room. The judge, a woman who recently won reelection, sat on the bench. Her hair sprang from her head like spiky fronds. The bench where she sat was raised about three inches above the other tables and chairs in the court room. Once she got through the preliminary organizational matters with the attorneys, the judge asked the district attorney who Della and I were. He said we were witnesses. She told us to stand, swore us in, and then asked us to return to the waiting room. We might be called, she said. We waited about twenty minutes before Doug and his wife came out. He took the two of us aside and told us that the stabber was going to stand trial: he pleaded not guilty to the serious felony charges against him. No trial date was set and apparently, bail was granted. The defendant would most likely be on the streets again in one or two days. One of the policemen told us he expected the man to jump bail and head back to California where he came from. He has a lengthy "rap sheet", including a fairly substantial amount of time served for a manslaughter conviction.

Doug has a long period of physical rehab facing him. His wife seems very supportive - she is a registered nurse who has worked at Passavant Hospital in the North Hills of Pittsburgh for the past twenty years. The trial may take place nine or ten months from now. We left the courthouse about 3:45 and retired to Edwards' Ice Cream for well-deserved treats.