All
I Wanted Was A Shower, And He Wouldn’t Give It to Me
by
Bridget Reilly
All he’d wanted was a shower. But in jail—that was
not where he had expected to have it! He was trying to piece together the events
of the prior 30-35 hours or so. It was mostly a blur of anger, memories, and
feeling lost. He had had the money to get a motel room for the night. He had
already bought and paid for, and delivered the metal, to have a rear bumper made
for his Toyota. Why had the motel clerk refused to rent him a room? The clerk
had said, “No credit card, no room.” He felt that he was being discriminated
against because he was homeless (living in his Toyota). He had tried to explain
that he had not had a shower for two months. It was a hot August day. He really
needed to get off the street, just for a mere 24 hours, and get clean. He had
the cash money to rent a $26 room, but the clerk said no.
The next thing the man could remember was eating lunch at
Rick’s Pub, trying to calm himself down. Next, the sun was coming up and he
had a gun in his hands. He knew something really bad had happened. So he drove
to his father’s house—that’s where the gun had come from. When he got to
the house it was obvious that something was wrong. His father was hiding, with a
pistol, in the shed. What had happened? After calling the sheriff and turning
himself in, he was left even more afraid. But it was only about a 45-minute ride
to the jail. He would know the charges in a while. For now, he’d just enjoy
the shower.
The above narrative, written by my husband John, is a
true story about his own experience. The incident took place on August 3rd,
2000. The underlying cause for the disaster stemmed from the outrageously unjust
treatment that we had both received when trying to buy a home in Oakridge,
Oregon a month earlier. At that time I had been homeless for nine years and John
for fifteen years. After the home-buying fiasco, we were left homeless for yet
another month. John tried to rent a motel room for a night after receiving his
August SSD check, and was refused purely because he was a homeless local. It was
the last straw. It drove him over the edge, resulting in a conflict with his
father. I truly believe that he only partially remembers the incident, that he
was disconnected at the time. I saw his condition just prior to the event. The
two beers he had had at lunch would not have been enough to send him into an
alcohol blackout; the dissociation was clearly a function of his mental illness.
By the time we managed to buy another house in Oakridge,
a criminal prosecution was underway which cast a dark cloud over our first two
months of home ownership and marriage. For the last two weeks of October my
newlywed husband was conspicuously absent from the other half of the bed. John
received a reduced punitive sentence (two weeks in jail and three years;
probation, as opposed to the mandatory minimum of 13 months in prison) only
because he “agreed” to a plea bargain. If he had tried using a mental
defense and insisted on a jury trial, he could have gotten the maximum sentence
of six years—at least according to what his public “defender” said. He
never even got to tell his own side of the story.
The police report contained a few statements that pointed
very clearly to the real source of the problem—if anyone had cared to see what
the facts said about John’s mental state:”...J. McCulloch told me that he
had been mentally assaulted by his parents for 40 years.........J. McCulloch
added that he went in and took the gun and walked down the hallway, sat next to
his dad, got mad at him so he shot the rifle into the wall to get his dad’s
attention for all the turmoil his parents gave him...”
But in lieu of a mental health court (no such animal yet
exists in Oregon), this evidence could not even be considered relevant! The case
instead, went to a standard criminal court that took his actions out of context
and applied the usual punishments for them. He was convicted without a trial for
a crime in which the victim did not intend to press charges. The state was not
required to press charges either. This incident was a private matter and should
have remained so, to be resolved among the family members as they saw fit. The
head District Attorney chose to make it a matter for the court because it was
such a juicy case. All John’s father could do during the trial was drive
downtown and beg the D.A. to be lenient with his son. John’s plea bargain was
the price he had to pay to remain in the homeowner class. A felony conviction
was added to his record just so we could keep our home!
This case, which occurred at such a critical juncture of
our lives, made me realize the corruption that exists within our “criminal
justice” system. I was appalled at the inhumane ways we were both treated
while in the midst of trying to buy a home and planning our wedding. His case
was clearly being used by others for purposes that had nothing to do with the
public safety and everything to do with money and the promoting of careers. It
also pointed to the need for a more appropriate way of handling crimes that stem
from mental illness rather than conscious acts of malice.
Besides writing a series of articles on this subject, I
also wrote to State Senator Tony Corcoran saying we need to establish a mental
health court in Oregon. (I had a story about this in
Boston’s Spare Change News in May of 2001.) Tony responded, saying he
was interested, but wouldn’t be able to introduce a bill into the legislature
until the 2003 session, as they only meet every other year. Well, now 2003 has
arrived. This past November Tony was in Oakridge for a town meeting and I took
the opportunity to remind him of his promise. He said that he still thought it
was a good idea, so we’ll see what shapes up.
Copyright
to the Northeast Ohio Coalition for the Homeless and the Homeless Grapevine
Cleveland Ohio 2004.