Press Action ::: The Deposition

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

The Deposition

By Rosemarie Jackowski

"A citizen in United States should never expect to gain justice through the judicial system. The system is so corrupted that in the rare case when justice prevails, it is not because of, but it is in spite of, the system.”
-R. Jackowski

For the past several years I have been blessed with a unique learning experience. I have been a defendant and also a plaintiff against the government. My experience as a defendant has received widespread coverage. My conviction in that case is now under appeal in the Vermont Supreme Court and is not the topic of this report. Instead, I am now breaking my long six-year silence about my experience as a plaintiff. There is no connection between the two legal cases.

June 5, 2000 was a beautiful, warm day. It was one of those days that every Vermonter anticipates eagerly after the long, cruel winter. I had just received word that my 89-year-old mother had taken a bad fall in a supermarket parking lot. Her kneecap had been broken. She lived alone, 300 miles distant. She needed my help. I left my house to do last minute errands before departing for Pennsylvania where my mother lived. I drove around the corner from my house and traveled a short distance toward town. Traffic was slow...stop and go.

I was stopped in the line of traffic. Suddenly my small 94 Ford Tempo exploded. It shook violently. The noise was exactly that of an explosion. My body, along with the car, was violently shaking back and forth. I am not sure what happened after that. I remember, after some time, seeing the face of a woman looking in my windshield. Cars were stopped. People had gathered. Police sirens were blaring. I was placed in an ambulance. I then realized that I had been rear-ended by a large dump truck. The truck had additional mass and weight because it was carrying a load of logs. Witness statements all agree that the driver of the truck was looking out the side window at some pretty ladies in shorts. His inattention, speed, and reckless driving were the cause of the accident. The truck was owned and operated by the State of Vermont.

The ride to the hospital in the ambulance was a surreal experience. A police officer was in the emergency room when the ambulance arrived. I was grateful to have another human at my side. As I laid on the gurney, the police officer made a phone call. I heard his side of the conversation in which he said, “...no, no tickets have been issued...” When he hung up, I asked him why. I told him, as he could see, I had just been nearly killed. His answer to me was, “You know how it is. We work together.” Yes, I understood his sentiment. The old boys’ network is a constant topic in small town Bennington.

That should have been a clue to me as to how things would go from then on. It was just the first in a long series of very troubling occurrences. I faced a new crisis each day. Where I live a car is a necessity for survival. There is no public transportation and no municipal water supply. Water must be purchased at the store some distance away, and carried in. One day as I was pleading with the state for a car to replace my car which they had totaled, they offered this solution. The state offered to cut my car in half, find one that had been totaled in the front, and then weld the two pieces together. I rejected that offer and told them that I had just seen an expose on TV about that type of repair and it was an unsafe and possibly illegal practice.

Being a party to a lawsuit was a totally new experience for me. I had been driving for 50 years, locally and across country. I am a firm believer in defensive driving. It had always worked for me in the past. Being stopped in a line of traffic with no way of escaping a speeding truck approaching from the rear changed my reality. Everyday brought a new challenge. My car was now totaled. I did not have the money to replace it. My life was drastically changed.

Howard Dean was governor in 2000. One day in desperation I called his private phone number, which had been given to me by a member of the state Legislature. Somehow, I managed to connect with Gov. Dean’s personal attorney. I still remember this, because he was one of the few associated with the government who seemed to be polite and compassionate. There was nothing he could do to help.

I began a search for a lawyer. The first one said, “Rosemarie, this is Vermont. Don’t expect any justice here.” Another lawyer said that because of my age, the case would not be profitable enough for him. I soon learned that age discrimination runs rampant through the legal system. Anyone over 50 is at a distinct disadvantage. I was over 60. Money matters.

I was dealing with medical issues as a result of the accident. My finances were destroyed. The hospital put a lien on me because my medical bills had not been paid. My mother was without my help. The only car I had was the one that had been totaled. Life was getting more difficult with each day. Days turned into months...months into years. I now looked at my life in two stages, my life before the accident, and my life after the accident. In the beginning, this was referred to as my life in legal limbo. Now a more accurate description would be my life in legal hell.

Finally, after five years, I was scheduled to be deposed by the state. Oh, I was so ready! I had waited all of these years to talk about the accident. Up until now, because I did not want to embarrass the truck driver who nearly killed me, I had not openly discussed the accident.

The big day arrived. I was taken into a small, windowless room in the state’s attorney’s office complex. I looked around. There was a one-way mirror opposite to where I was seated. There were some metal bookshelves with black garbage bags on them. It reminded me of Abu Ghraib. I was told to raise my right hand and was sworn in. Then the interrogation by an assistant to the state attorney general began. She asked questions about my political activities… questions about my political writings. She had copied all of them from the Internet and waved them about with great emotion. She seemed excited by the fact that some of my articles had appeared on a web site that has a four-letter word in its name. Obviously, she thought that this would embarrass me. It did not. I calmly explained to her that I do not have a web site and I have no control over what name other people give to their web sites. I don’t know if she believed me or not.

Then the interrogation got even more interesting. She asked questions about my sex life. She asked questions about my marriage that had ended 35 years prior. Then she started to ask detailed questions about the fact that I had been the victim of a brutal rape. The rape, which is irrelevant to this case, had occurred 40, yes 40, years ago during a time when I was working in Florida. By now, it had become very clear to me what was happening. There was no doubt in my mind that this was an attempt to intimidate me. I had always believed that witness intimidation was against the law, but what did I know. This was Vermont and I was not a lawyer. The exploitation of any rape victim should never be tolerated. Opening the wounds of a traumatic event such as that would be very painful to most rape victims. I maintained my “cool” and took comfort in the fact that it was now obvious what was happening. The strategy of the attorney general’s office was now very clear. This was to be a no-holds-barred, fight to the death… a David and Goliath struggle… an attempt to beat me into submission so that I would not seek justice. Would justice prevail, or would this be just one more failed attempt of an injured citizen to gain redress for a wrong?

The morning after the deposition, I picked up a copy of the Rutland Herald. It reported a news story about an elderly couple, Edward and Margaret Tateosian, who also had been injured by a state-owned truck. Reading the account of the treatment that they had received from the state was very disturbing. Apparently, their experience was similar to mine. I now was certain that this problem with the state of Vermont was bigger than just one case. How many other victims were out there, I wondered.

During my deposition, and at all other times, I had managed to maintain proper decorum...always remaining polite; however, stress of the accident and its medical and legal aftermath was taking a toll on my health. My intestine started to bleed. After several months, I realized that I could no longer ignore this new stress-related health crisis. At the hospital minor surgery was performed.

On the eve of Christmas Eve, I received the pathology report from the hospital. It described a condition that could eventually be life-threatening. That same day I also received a court order, signed by a judge, demanding that, on January 16, 2006, I travel up north towards the Canadian border to be examined by a doctor who specializes in sports medicine. This was one of the state’s expert witnesses. Travel right now was difficult. I had requested permission to see any doctor that the state chose closer to my home. I suggested Albany, N.Y., which is within 50 miles of my residence. There are many doctors in Albany. The court denied my request.

I now was faced with a dilemma. Should I follow the advice of those in the medical community and put my health first, or should I comply with the court order? The fist of the government was coming down in a hard and brutal way. I spent my Christmas holiday trying to figure a way out of this latest legal/medical quagmire.

Meantime I had been researching the topic of “expert witnesses”. On the Internet I learned that they are referred to as “liars for hire”. This was a whole new growth industry. Of course, the side with the most money to hire the most impressive expert witnesses usually wins the case. Money matters. In legal cases, often it is ONLY money that matters.

January 16, 2006 arrived. It was Martin Luther King Day. I thought about the injustice that he had suffered. I certainly would not compare my problems with the government to his, but every person should be allowed to live with dignity, honor, and justice. I decided to put my health at risk and make the trip up north through the mountains as ordered by the court. The state transported me. It was 3 degrees below zero. A snowstorm had left the roads in a dangerous condition. Cars were off the in the ditches. State police and tow trucks were assisting motorists. I thought about the fact that the state had six June’s, six July’s, and six August’s to impose this trip on me, but instead chose January, the month of the year when the mountain roads are the most dangerous. The trip was 289 miles and took 10 hours. Ten hours without food, except for the water and crackers that I had brought with me.

Because the accident was a rear-ender with many witnesses, this case should have settled in weeks. In my opinion any state is grossly negligent if it places any driver, with a history of accidents, behind the wheel of a truck. This was no accident; it was an accident waiting to happen. It happened to me. It happened to the Teteosians. It has happened to an unknown number of other citizens. It could happen to anyone.

About my mother...without a safe car, I was not able to get to Pennsylvania to give her any assistance. Her health deteriorated. She was placed in a nursing home and she lost the house she had worked a lifetime for. It was taken to pay the cost of the nursing home.

George Bush and others have argued for Tort Reform. I agree that it is needed...in the opposite way than that which has been proposed. In Vermont, the problem is not the bribing of judges. The problem is cronyism and a questionable level of competence. Added to that is a lack of appreciation for fairness and a very troubling lack of humanity.

My past experience as an advocate for children brought me to the courtroom on many occasions. In Vermont I saw jurors sleeping during important testimony. In New Jersey I once saw a judge reading the sports page during crucial testimony.

I offer these suggestions as a start. First, end the culture in the Vermont Attorney General’s Office that allows the abuse of citizens, such as that which occurred during my deposition. I hereby publicly offer to teach a consciousness-raising seminar, at no charge, to the Vermont Attorney General and his staff. Second, no case should be allowed to linger and languish in the system for five, six, or seven years. Third, the use of expert witnesses should be totally eliminated or at least minimized. Jurors should always be told when testimony is bought and paid for.

I have written this report as a warning to other citizens. The judicial system is broken. We cannot expect a mythical Alan Shore to emerge from the fog and rescue the many thousands across the U.S. who are in a struggle for justice. The burden of fixing or replacing the broken system falls upon the people. I have too many suggestions to include all of them here. Any ideas or suggestions from others would be appreciated. Maybe I am wrong. Do I expect too much from the system?

Rosemarie Jackowski is an advocacy journalist living in Vermont. She can be reached at dissent@sover.net.

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