I wasn’t really sure what level 3 meant, but I figured sex offenders don’t have as many levels as a Pac-Man game. I thought there were probably 5 or 10 levels of these weirdoes, but I called my wife, who is an attorney, so she could fill me in on how perverted/dangerous this guy probably is.
She broke the news to me that a level 3 is the worst rating you can get. She told me level 3 means he is the most likely to re-offend and that he ranks right up there with the creep who killed UND college student, Dru Sjodin.
My wife and I went to the meeting. About 100 people crammed themselves into a small church on Selby Avenue to get more information on one James Larry Love. When we walked in the door, we picked up an informational sheet about Mr. Love and a booklet about sex offenders that should have been titled “There Goes The Neighborhood.”
One page of light reading told us more than we wanted to know. On one day in 1985, Mr. Love broke into a woman’s apartment and raped her. He also beat the woman’s 7-year-old son with a tire iron when he tried to intervene. Later that day, Mr. Love broke into another woman’s home and raped her, then fled to a nearby city park and raped yet another woman.
Mr. Love had a longer rap sheet than that, and we’re not talking hip hop music. This guy has been in and out of the big house most of his life. Even after being released from prison in 1998 after serving his time for the rape bender, Mr. Love has been in and out of jail due to violations of his probation, including failing to properly register as a sex offender (he registered as “homeless” even though he had a residence so he would be more difficult to track). He did not complete any offender treatment program despite being in prison and on probation since 1985.
A majority of people at the meeting were horrified and outraged that this monster was moving into the neighborhood, akin to Godzilla terrorizing Tokyo. My anger intensified at the stupid questions people asked and some of the ridiculous answers.
One lady expressed concern that there was an elementary school just a couple of blocks from Love’s new residence. Love’s probation officer said his victim pool was adult females, not kids, and reassured the woman and the rest of us that kids were not in his crosshairs.
He could have just as well said: “Don’t worry, he won’t cornhole your kid. He might beat the shit out of him with a tire iron, but he won’t fuck him. As long as your kid steers clear of Love raping someone, your kid will be fine.”
Another woman expressed concern about the school bus stop a block away from Love’s new residence. “Who will be watching our kids?” she demanded, apparently thinking the St. Paul police’s job includes parenting and babysitting on the side.
One person took this as her chance to change subjects. After all, 100 people hadn’t shown up to hear info about the sex offender. We all wanted to hear how she had left her door unlocked, and her apartment had been broken into. They had thrown a lot of clothes around and took a VCR. Apparently, she had never watched CSI and was stunned to hear police can’t dust for fingerprints when you’ve had your hands over every square inch of whatever evidence may have existed.
It kind of spiraled out of control after this point. The questions kept getting more and more stupid.
One man told the group how he had just met Mr. Love while walking to the meeting and we should feel sorry for him. The poor guy was in prison for nearly the last 20 years. He has to wear a big black box on his belt that holds a GPS device so probation officials can track him the next 3 months. Also, he seemed really nice and remorseful for what he did.
At this point I would have hijacked the meeting if three of St. Paul’s finest hadn’t been in attendance. The answers to said stupid questions were too polite (Minnesota Nice should not be reserved for perverts), and too many people tried to sway the whole “scary” tone of the meeting to a “warm and fuzzy” feel.
“Of course he acted remorseful,” I would have told the violin player. “What’s he gonna’ say? Hey buddy, you better lock up your wife and hide her in the laundry hamper because I’m on the loose again! I’m about to start my second crime spree, just as soon as I get a hard-on and find a tire iron.”
Here’s my rendition of how the rest of the meeting would have gone, with actual questions asked and what my answers would have been (I’m tempted to send this to the St. Paul police as a script for future meetings)...
Lady #1: “Was Mr. Love addicted to drugs or on something when he perpetrated these crimes? Was he just drunk at the time?”
Me: “Yeah, he was just drunk. You know how it is. Some people have too much to drink and order a six-pack and a pound at the Taco John’s drive-thru; some miss the toilet when they barf; or some flash their tits to a video camera and end up on Girls Gone Wild. Some even wake up next to someone they had mutual drunken sex with and regret it. Then there are the ones who rape three women and beat the snot out of a 7-year-old with a tire iron. Yeah, just “normal” drunken behavior like urinating in public.”
Lady #2: “How did he break in the homes? Should we do more than lock our doors?”
Me: “Who the hell cares how he broke into the homes? Locking the doors might be a good idea and just remember… screens on the windows are only good for keeping bugs out.
You could also watch the movie Home Alone a few times and get some great home defense ideas like tying paint cans to strings and hitting home intruders in the head when they try to come up the stairs.
Or give them a bit of a challenge. Leave an extension ladder in your front yard. Lock everything except the window on the second floor and then spend a lot of time in front of it topless. When he props the ladder up and starts climbing, have a bunch of heavy shit to drop at him on his way up like an iron, a TV, a sewing machine, a suitcase full of horseshoes, then an anvil.
But you might not want to sunbathe nude while wearing a blindfold. That might not be safe.”
Lady #3: “Does he have a mental condition of some sort?”
Me: “What the hell do you think? This guy raped 3 women and beat a 7-year-old with a tire iron. In one day! We’ll never know if this guy’s elevator goes to the top floor, because the cable snapped and the elevator has been free falling down the shaft since 1985. He’s nuttier than a Pearson’s salted nut roll!”
Lady #4 (aka Church Lady #1): “I came into this meeting feeling scared and frightened, but I leave here rejuvenated. We need to be ever vigilant, but I do believe that it’s best for Mr. Love to live in the light, not in the shadows of darkness. We need to have faith that the Lord will guide Mr. Love down the chosen path of righteousness.”
Me: “Listen, Toots. We’re in a church, but it’s not Sunday. What is this "live in the light, not in the shadows of darkness" bullshit? You sound like that creepy, old midget woman from Poltergeist. Run to the light, Mr. Love!”
To make a long story short - No matter what this guy’s last name is, he’s getting no lovin’ from us.
2 comments:
Namaste Rocky:
That one woman & her son happen to be my sister & nephew. I was 17 years old when this nightmare happened.
I have gone through I whirlwind of emotions through the years in regard to Mr Love. I had always been extremely close to both my sister & nephew. I lay vigil next to my nephew that first night in the hospital. I am devastated for the fact that my sister has never fully found her way back to herself after this happened to her.
I cannot be accused of being "religious" in any stretch of the definition. But, I am spiritual. Throughout the years I kept track of Mr Love. I watched to see if he made parole. I begged the system to require him to complete a sex offender program before being released. When he failed to do so (although had begun one), I then asked for him to be labeled as a danger to society & kept in a locked mental health facility until he did comply (or however that clause in the law works). I asked for details about requiring him to complete treatment (as 'they' claim that alcohol has always contributed to his, & in turn OUR, demise) or at minimum to be given regular UA's. I could continue through the litany of things I asked for in the attempt to assure our safety & his rehabilitation. I was told that there simply was not enough money in the budget to track each offender in the way I was requesting. I was told that we protect our money from criminals & more fiercely prosecute those offenders than we protect our women & children or prosecute sex offenders.
For many years I lived at odds with my sense of outrage that he was let out early, my sister wasn't notified (as required), that no requirements or assistance was given him to protect us.
I then moved to the place I find myself now. I believe wholly in the power of redemption & that it is attainable for each of us. I believe that people who are constantly labeled as "monsters" (or the like) will only live to prove us right. I believe that everyone needs & deserves someone to believe in them. Everyone. I believe that we are each larger/better than our worst actions - somewhere within us is that redeemable being. I believe that the God force whom I believe in, which brings me strength & hope is the same God-force that dwells within Mr Love. I believe we must do all we can to protect our families & our communities & at the same time I believe that when a person does their time (& in this case he eventually chose to stay in prison & serve out the remainder of his sentence rather than go through another parole situation) it is now our responsibility to allow them to try to prove they can live productively amongst us.
I didn't say to forget. I didn't say to not be vigil about keeping ourselves, our families, & our children safe. But, the truth is there is ugly all around us. If we only really knew how many different sorts of pervs & crazies were amongst us we'd shoot ourselves. One official told me I'd never go in another fast food restaurant again if I knew how many were populated with ex-cons.
Our justice system is what it is - for better or for worse. And, Mr Love did his time according to that system. I attempted 1000 times to write letters to Mr Love while he was incarcerated. I had this epiphany that reminded me of how much people believing in me has motivated me throughout my life & how the converse negatively impacted me. I wanted to set out to remind Mr Love of the beauty & hope that his family must have once had in him. I wanted him to know that it was never too late to redeem himself. I believe it is never too late. (okay, I know I am going on & on)
I never did send a letter to him. A failing on my part. But, I sent him all my positive prayers & greatest hopes - partly because I knew that he'd one day be out on these streets again. I clearly could go on & on. I'm not even certain if this was coherent to anyone but me.
I'd like to think that the perspective I've gained on this will somehow be a positive thought provoker in others. If we simply throw away any hope or believe in our ex-offenders we are harming ourselves by doing so. We can watch, we can be careful. But, we cannot shut them out - they are here to stay. If they cannot find a positive place among us - then they will eventually find a harmful one. It only serves us to promote their redemption.
Okay, I am stopping.
With much respect, thought, & reflection...
Okay, one last thing. Here's something that is part of my guiding principles & life philosophy:
The Prayer for the Perpetrator
Oh Divine Creator, remember not only the men & women of good will, but also those of ill will. But do not remember all the suffering they have inflicted upon us; remember the fruits we brought thanks to this suffering; our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility, the courage, the generosity, the greatness of heart which has grown out of this, & when they come to judgment, let all the fruits which we have borne be their forgiveness.
Amen / Selah
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