Part I, Chapter 11

Previously in "2nd Time Around":

In 1996, Sarah Griffin walked in on her neighbor, who had murdered his family. in 1998, she was convicted and sentenced to death for these killings. In 2006, the state of Virginia failed to execute Sarah in the electric chair.

2014:

"... My name is Andrew Daines. I'm a civil rights attorney, having graduated from Yale for both my Bachelor of Arts in Sociology and my Juris Doctor. The beauty of being really good at your job, like I am, is that you end up being on a first-name basis with people whom you have never met before in your life."

He paused and got a few chuckles. Unlike Richard, he did use the microphone and remained seated. It wasn't that he wanted to hide that he was over half a foot shorter than his colleague. He just didn't want to stand. He pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"It also lets you get away with really bad jokes," he continued. "For example, why don't sharks eat lawyers?"

He paused for dramatic effect.

"Professional courtesy," he finished with a slight grin.

The resulting laughter sounded polite and forced. Andrew didn't mind.

"Doug recruited me towards the end of 2006," he went on. "Unlike some people who wormed their way into the case, I was invited."

He mockingly glared at Grace and Richard before flashing a friendly smile in Donna's direction.

"She knows what I mean," he said. "Anyway, before I could address the possible civil rights violations that come with trying to execute someone for a second time after the first round failed, I was given a more pressing task. I guess my story begins when I first went to court to argue this point in January of ..."

2007:

... Andrew and Donna arrived at the federal courthouse in Richmond at 8:15 in the morning. Since they were claiming Sarah's problems inside the Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women amounted to a violation of her civil rights, their case automatically fell under federal jurisdiction. They were arriving for a hearing in front of Judge Martha Peters of the federal district Court for the eastern district of Virginia.

"She's a tough one," Andrew said as they walked down the corridor. "she'll hear us out though. Plus, she doesn't hate me that much."

Donna stopped. Not noticing, Andrew kept going and she had to hurry and catch up. Only then did he notice the perplexed expression on her face.

"Relax," he said. "We'll be fine."

Having to go through the courthouse's security checkpoint and everything related to it, they arrived at the courtroom at 8:45. Their hearing was the first thing on Judge Peters' docket, scheduled for 9:00 a.m. Having some time to wait, the lawyers sat down in the courtroom's spectator gallery.

"What do you think our chances are?" Donna asked.

Andrew considered this. He was admittedly more adept at writing legal briefs for appeals and other matters requiring documents which rivaled the length of War and Peace. One brief even received strong praise from a Supreme Court Justice for its clarity and logic. he was a decent orator when he had to be. It was more that he preferred writing what he wanted people, especially judges, to know. But these cases were the type where long, complex arguments written in the proper font with the correct margins were not the preferred method of achieving one's goals.

"We have a good shot at the TRO," Andrew said. "it's the long-term plans which will be trickier."

"We just have to keep applying pressure," Donna said. "Someone will crack sooner or later."

Andrew nodded. In that way, Disability Law and Civil Rights Law weren't so different.

Donna looked at Andrew.

"What did you mean when you said Judge Peters didn't 'hate' you that much?" she queried.

"I have a reputation for being relentless to the point where it's 'pretty annoying'," Andrew clarified. "'hate' might be a bit strong, but my relationship with Judge Peters is decent in comparison to some of her colleagues."

Donna nodded as the court clerk came into the courtroom from a side door. He came right over to them so there was no time to get any further elaborations.

"Are you here for the temporary restraining order?" he asked.

"Yes," Andrew confirmed, introducing himself and Donna.

"Judge Peters will be out in a few minutes. you can step forward now if you like."

Thanking him, Andrew and Donna rose and moved to the petitioner's table. Once there, they took out their papers and held a last-minute discussion in hushed voices. The earlier topic was now forgotten.

At 8:59, the clerk called for everyone to rise for the Honorable Judge Martha Peters. Andrew and Donna rose, as did the few people who'd filtered in and took seats in the spectators' gallery. They were mainly litigants for the next case. Since hearings regarding temporary restraining orders often didn't take long, it was sensible to show up before they even began. Judges frowned on anyone being late when they were trying to keep up with crowded calendars.

Sarah's legal team hadn't made their plans public, so the press and curious gawkers were nowhere to be found. True, Donna and Andrew could have used the reporters to rally support, but they were too early in the game to pull such a stunt. For now, a quiet maneuver was the best idea.

Gray-haired and very fit, Judge Peters strode into the courtroom and sat down behind the bench, inviting everyone to sit as well. She took a moment to turn on her laptop before looking down at Andrew and Donna.

"You're seeking a temporary restraining order, correct?" she asked.

"Yes, Your Honor," Andrew confirmed, stepping up to the lectern and speaking into the microphone. "our client, Sarah Inez Griffin, is developing a pattern of injuries due to the lack of proper care in the Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women where she is housed. We have asked the Virginia Department of Corrections on multiple occasions to take steps to prevent these injuries, but they have only made temporary adjustments, mainly transferring Ms. Griffin to their hospital for treatment when she is injured. We are seeking a temporary restraining order to keep her there until a more permanent solution can be implemented."

"What sort of injuries are we talking about here?"

Andrew understood the judge would be unwilling to even consider this request if they were just going to bring up minor cuts, bruises, and scratches.

"Your Honor," Donna said, rising from her seat. "we have records going as far back as the date Sarah Griffin was returned to the Fluvanna Correctional Center after being hospitalized in Richmond. Just last month, our client broke her nose and chipped a tooth falling out of her bed. Last week, she injured one of her elbows when she again fell out of bed and cut her wrist on the bed's metal frame while trying to climb back into it. Your Honor, the Department of Corrections now incorrectly believes that this was an attempt by our client to take her own life and have placed her on a suicide watch. She is now even more restricted."

Judge Peters knew who Sarah Griffin was and what was most likely causing her to fall out of bed. Anyone with some kind of quantifiable IQ could determine that. Though the judge couldn't know the specifics regarding Sarah's disabilities, Andrew knew this lack of knowledge didn't matter.

"What are your ultimate goals regarding this order?" Judge Peters asked.

"We're looking to get reasonable accommodations for our client," Andrew replied. "Until that can happen, she cannot safely function in the environment of a maximum security prison. We just want her kept in the hospital until these accommodations are in place ... for her own safety and well-being."

"And you're sure these accommodations you're asking for can be implemented?"

Andrew just said, "They have to be."

The law was on their side. Something needed to be done.

Judge Peters considered his words.

"All right," she said. "I'll grant you the order to keep Ms. Griffin out of the general prison population and instead have her housed in the hospital at the Fluvanna Correctional Center until further notice. Understand that this order only extends to a hearing where it will be determined if it should be continued."

"I understand," Andrew said, knowing the Department of Corrections would be able to have their say at that time. That was how these things worked. The petitioner filed the request, much like someone would file a lawsuit. Provided the situation was deemed serious enough and explained in a coherent manner, judges generally granted these requests. The respondent would be served notice of the TRO and, usually within a week's time, would have the opportunity to challenge the order if they chose to respond. all such orders were only valid until the scheduled date and time of that next hearing, where it would be decided if they would be extended.

"Then we'll set the hearing for next Tuesday, January 30th, at 9:00 a.m.," Judge Peters said.

* * *

Less than a week later, Andrew and Donna were back in court, taking Grace along this time. Doug and Richard stayed behind in the latter's office as they were busy preparing their appeal for Sarah in which they wanted to argue that attempting to execute her a second time would indeed be a violation of her constitutional rights. Andrew planned to be back later to check on their progress and help however he could. True, this was why Doug had recruited him, but they had to address one civil rights violation at a time. There needed to be priorities.

This time, two lawyers were present to represent the Virginia Department of Corrections. From afar, they looked more like covert government agents, complete with black suits and matching black ties. Neither said anything to anyone as they sat down at the respondent's table.

"No sign of earpieces," Grace cracked in a low voice, craning her neck to study the pair.

Right on time, the court rose, Judge Peters entered, and the clerk called the case. The judge summarized the situation and the nature of the hearing before asking the petitioner to begin.

"Has anything changed from your last petition?" she asked.

"No, Your Honor," Andrew replied, having stepped up to the lectern. "We wish for our client, Sarah Griffin, to be housed in the hospital on the grounds of the Fluvanna Correctional Center until proper accommodations can be put in place to enable her to live safely in the prison's maximum security unit, which is where the Department of Corrections wants to continue housing her."

"Your Honor," one of the attorneys for the Department of Corrections said, rising to his feet, "the prison's hospital does not have the facilities necessary for the long-term housing of a maximum-security inmate."

"I do not think Sarah Griffin poses much of a security risk these days. Housing her in a cell is riskier as she is obviously not safe there."

"Tell me, Mr. Daines," Judge Peters asked. "What makes the hospital a better option?"

"The staff," Andrew replied as though this were obvious. "They've proven to be helpful with her before. I understand it's not ideal, but it shouldn't be for more than a few weeks, provided the department is accommodating with what Sarah needs."

"How can you be so sure?" the attorney asked.

Before Andrew or Donna could say anything, he added, "It could be months. Your Honor, we do not know what accommodations the petitioners would be asking for nor how they might be implemented. the prison's hospital cannot be tied down like that for someone who is not sick."

"She goes there every time she injures herself in her cell," Donna pointed out from the petitioner's table. "Keeping up that cycle is what's causing the problem. Sarah isn't safe in her cell."

"We're not here to debate the safest and most convenient long-term location to house Ms. Griffin," Judge Peters pointed out. "We're looking to determine what best suits her rather unique needs right now. In any case, I agree with Mr. Daines. The extension of the restraining order is granted. Ms. Griffin is to remain in the hospital at the Fluvanna Correctional Center until further notice. We will schedule another hearing in a month to determine what progress has been made to ensure her safety while any concerns regarding security are addressed."

She banged her gavel. Everyone began gathering their things to allow the litigants in the next case to come forward.

Resigned to the judge's ruling, the two attorneys from the Department of Corrections packed up their briefcases, looking to make a quick and quiet exit. But Andrew stopped them.

"You tell your bosses that if they want this to be resolved quickly, we're willing to mediate," he told them.

* * *

Three weeks after the hearing, Doug pulled his car into the parking lot outside the headquarters of the Virginia Department of Corrections in Richmond. He, Donna, and Andrew got out and headed for the building's front doors.

Following the instructions from the security guard in the lobby, they took the elevator up to the fourth floor and walked down a long hallway to room 428. Doug knocked once and pushed the door open without waiting for a reply.

The room was a conference room with a long table occupying most of the space. Several high-backed Swivel chairs surrounded this table, five of them already occupied. These five individuals, all together on one side, watched as the newcomers entered, their faces expressionless.

As Donna, Doug, and Andrew sat down on the unoccupied side of the table, the group's leader introduced himself as Duke Grover, the department's Chief of Corrections Operations. He explained how part of his job was to see if the prison was in compliance with the Americans with Disabilities Act. Andrew considered pointing out the poor job he was doing So far but held his tongue. Treating these people, and the department they represented, as villainous wouldn't accomplish anything. It was best to think of them all as uneducated, an understandable trait considering these very unique circumstances, and hope they were very open-minded. Like Doug, Duke Grover had gone to law school at the University of Virginia, so one had to assume he was well-versed in the legal aspect of his job ... just not enough. Plus, both their names started with "D". Was that really just a coincidence?

A few minutes later, the mediator, a local attorney named Wallace Silver, arrived, accompanied by a stenographer. He was a short man in his late sixties with chalk-white hair and an elegant black pair of glasses. He took a few minutes to organize some papers and set up a digital recorder which would keep a record of the meeting alongside the stenographer's notes.

"Good morning," he said before reciting the date, time, and case name and number for the record. He then asked everyone to state their names and roles in the case, starting with himself.

Everyone did as asked. the other four representatives from the Department of Corrections were identified as Ronald Jones, an attorney for the department, Debra Kinsely, a structural engineer and expert on the design of prisons, Eric McKane, a disability rights expert, probably freelance, and Patrick Dogard, a representative from the Corrections Officers Union.

With introductions complete, Wallace Silver recited the facts of the case.

"Will the petitioners please state their grievances," he prompted.

Taking charge, Donna laid out the nature of Sarah's disabilities. She elaborated on the difficulties she was having since the execution, emphasizing the problems which came up once she was returned to her cell in the maximum security unit. She finished by outlining the accommodations Sarah would need in order to function in her current environment. Donna spoke non-stop for almost thirty minutes, more than Andrew had ever heard from her at one time.

When she was finished, Wallace Silver asked the department's representatives if they had a response they'd like to put on the record. Duke Grover immediately denied ever getting any reports which were said to have been filed by corrections staff after each of Sarah's injuries. He explained the department could not just grant all the accommodations Sarah's attorneys were asking for.

"They are all reasonable accommodations," Donna pointed out. "in line with the Americans with Disabilities Act."

She paused for a moment, checking the notes Andrew had compiled for this meeting.

"In the case of the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections versus Yeskey," she recited, "the United States Supreme Court held the Americans with Disabilities Act and its previsions and protections extend to state prisoners. That's precisely in your job description, Mr. Grover."

Duke Grover's face remained neutral.

"There are security concerns," Patrick Dogard, the union representative, chimed in. "Your client's been sentenced to die. Extra precautions need to be taken. The corrections officers who interact with her need to be protected as they are in the most danger ..."

"The world in which Sarah Griffin could be considered a serious threat to anyone's safety would be the world in which your prisons could be surrounded by white picket fences," Andrew retorted. "There's no mystery here. Our client's rights, as granted to her by the Americans with Disabilities Act, are being blatantly violated and you are trying to hide behind poor excuses to justify yourselves. We're willing to accept you and your officers probably do not fully understand what Sarah is capable of and what she needs, but that line of thinking cannot put this matter to rest."

"These are all important points," Wallace Silver interjected. "I think the appropriate avenue is to evaluate the merits of each of the petitioner's requests one-by-one."

Everyone agreed, and Donna began by explaining how Sarah needed physical therapy, which was one of the most important accommodations they were asking for. She described Sarah's paralysis and said she needed to know things like how to roll over in bed to prevent bedsores.

"Your client already knows how to roll," Patrick Dogard said. "isn't that why she's been falling out of bed so often?"

Andrew hoped his face didn't betray his anger at that last comment. he really preferred to do his arguing on paper.

"She needs to learn how to control it and not fall out of her bed," Donna corrected, shooting Duke Grover a brief, dirty look. "She'll also need to learn how to get in and out of her wheelchair and how to have her upper body compensate for the loss of her legs, which will be hard for her to do since she does not have full use of her upper body either."

"We have a physical therapist who is willing to come in and work with her," Doug added, speaking for the first time since introductions were recited and recorded. "They'll just need to do it in an open space, like the prison's gymnasium."

"How do we know this won't be a cover for an escape attempt?" Patrick Dogard asked.

Donna groaned. Andrew began to wonder if this man was just here to state stupid questions and remarks.

"You gotta be kidding me," she said.

"Wouldn't be the first time someone's conspired to break out a Death Row inmate," Patrick Dogard remarked.

Unfortunately, he wasn't wrong. In 1988, a woman drove up to the Washington State Penitentiary to pick up her condemned husband, who intended to put on a hospital orderly's uniform and leave the prison with the aid of the warden's secretary. The plan was foiled when corrections officers caught the secretary attempting to steal the uniform from the hospital's supply closet. There'd been about a half dozen other such plans, all foiled long before coming to fruition thanks to prisons' security measures.

"Our physical therapist will be happy to undergo a background check," Andrew offered, eager to put a reasonable, substantive option out there for consideration. "He was fingerprinted when he registered with the state."

"Due to the severe nature of Sarah's paralysis, we need someone who specifically knows how to work with her," Donna elaborated. "That limits who we can recruit for the job."

"Mr. Grover?" Wallace Silver asked.

Duke Grover was silent, his face still neutral. Andrew supposed the man had been through tense meetings many times before and knew how to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself.

"We'd be willing to accommodate this," Duke Grover finally conceded. "But we'd like at least one officer to stay and supervise these physical therapy sessions. And your man and any equipment he'll bring will be searched before and after every session, as will the inmate."

"We can agree to that," Donna said, thrilled about this first success.

Andrew wasn't sure what the physical therapist, Garrett White, would think of all this, but Donna didn't seem worried. He supposed she'd already worked out everything with the man, reluctant as the latter seemed to be to even become involved in the case.

* * *

Accounting for a lunch break, the mediation took a little over six hours. Doug, Donna, and Andrew came out feeling pretty good about themselves. While they had not gotten everything they wanted, Andrew and Donna considered this a success. they purposely aimed too high with Some of their demands in order to make what they really wanted seem more reasonable.

"Classic bait-and-switch," Andrew remarked. "Feels good to be on this side of it."

Apart from having access to Garrett the physical therapist for one hour twice a week, Sarah would also be visited twice a month by an occupational therapist who could help her learn to adjust to living with both her paralysis and her lack of sight. This was needed as Garrett could only show her how to prevent more injuries and medical complications. He could not show her how to do things like organize her possessions in her cell in a manner which would allow her to locate and retrieve them later. The sessions with the occupational therapist would take place in one of the attorney/client meeting rooms. Like the ones with Garrett, these sessions would be supervised by a corrections officer and all parties would be searched for contraband before and after. All the Department of Corrections' representatives balked at the idea of allowing the occupational therapist into the maximum security unit.

However, they also gave in to the idea of installing support rails in Sarah's cell to help her get in and out of bed and to properly use the toilet. They did stipulate that they pick the contractor who would make these renovations, citing security concerns. Sarah's attorneys were fine with this.

Under a similar agreement, a shower chair would also be installed in the unit's showers, which all the incarcerated women used. Protocols dictated that a Death Row inmate have access to the shower three times a week when all other inmates were locked in their cells. The chair would have the capability to be folded up and secured against the wall by a chain and padlock when Sarah didn't need it. This would also prevent conflicts or dangerous situations if someone else was using the shower by it. They wouldn't be able to make use of what they might perceive as a conveniently-placed weapon.

A few other minor demands were brought up and ironed out. In the end, even the Department of Corrections representatives seemed happy. Once her cell was arranged properly, Sarah would be allowed to keep a wheelchair in there, though this and all other such arrangements hinged on her good behavior. Andrew considered pointing out Sarah couldn't be denied necessary accommodations based on such a factor but decided not to. Sarah's disciplinary file was almost non-existent, so he'd address this misconception if he needed to in the future.

Donna, Doug, and Andrew decided to stop and have a mini-celebration before they'd head to the prison to inform Sarah. Grace had classes, Richard was at the office, finalizing their first appeal after the state's botched attempt to kill Sarah. She had been declared fit and healthy enough for execution by some doctor and the Attorney General's office was already whispering about asking for a new date to put her to death. The team had to do something fast to impede that. There was no time for a real, full-blown celebration right now ...

2014:

"... We were getting somewhere," Andrew said to the audience. "But, as any of us will tell you, we had a long way to go."