My colleague Stephanie Gray and I arrived at the Philadelphia Criminal Justice Centre at 1:30 PM and headed through security and up three flights of stairs to Courtroom 304. Defence attorney Jack McMahon was just finishing his closing arguments, jabbing his finger towards a jury box full of moderately impassive and ordinary-looking people passing off as the peers of a serial killer. “Have the courage to say no to the press,” he said coaxingly. “Show courage, and show integrity.
“I know there are babies, there are human beings in the fridge, this is the only thing I know.” This was how
Dr. Jerome Lejeune, a French geneticist, explained his presence as an expert witness in a Tennessee court in 1989. He admitted he paid little attention to the news, but he had been called to testify in order to save human lives, and so he went.
That’s not what you normally hear from someone you met just a few minutes prior; but I’ve gotten used to it. It seems that almost every time I give a presentation or participate in a pro-life display like the Genocide Awareness Project (GAP) or “Choice” Chain, some wounded woman confides in me a horror story of abuse. And it leads me to believe that sexual abuse is far more rampant than we realize.
While the demands of justice would state that no innocent child should pay for their parent’s crime, the reality isn’t always that simple. Children with incarcerated parents suffer greatly from the separation, living with sadness, confusion, shame or even guilt over their parent’s crime and imprisonment. Often, they may not have the opportunity to visit with their parents, breaking important bonds in the parent-child relationship.