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“I can’t imagine. From your experience, did the crew lack experience?”
“Damn right they did. They were kids. They shouldn’t have been there. No experience causes lots of accidents. For everyone onboard.”
The defense stands. “Your honor, he’s belaboring the point here.”
Judge Foster eyes me. “Mr. Dent, let’s get to the point of your question.”
I nod. “Mr. Wilson, the day of the accident, Jason Stone was operating the drill rig that caused the accident, correct?”
“That’s right.”
I turn to the jury. “Jason Stone, age seventeen, employed by Miller Industries. Never worked a day in construction in his young life. He had no background or knowledge of the trade. Before being hired on by Benjamin Miller with the promise of a prosperous future, Jason Stone had just graduated high school. He held a 4.0 GPA and would be the first of his family to attend college in the fall. His passion was football and science. He donated his time to the local charities and pet adoption center in town.” I bring my attention back to the witness. “Mr. Wilson, can you describe the morning for the jury?”
“I had just come up the freight elevator from the pit minutes before the explosion. Like I said, everyone was heated over the experience barrier. They wanted something done.”
“And what was that?” I ask.
“Pull them kids off the site. No money was worth the safety of the crew. The accident with the skid and Hank rattled us all. Even the young ones were spooked. But it seemed everyone in some sort of way had been roped in by Miller Industries. They just wanted to get the job done and collect what they were promised.”
I take a step closer to Sherman. “Were you promised anything?”
He struggles to hide the guilt. “You see, it ain’t easy trying to raise two girls who need so much. Sylvie—”
“Objection. The counsel is misleading the witness testimony. This has no bearing on the case at hand.”
“Overruled. Mr. Wilson, answer the question.”
Sherman nods, inhaling a hollow breath. “He offered to increase my pay. Pay off medical bills we were drowning in. He told Bethany they planned on putting a daycare in the lower level of the building and she would be able to find work. She would be able to bring the girls there for free.”
I turn on my heel and head back to the table to grab the blueprints Jim hands me. “At this time, I would like to submit exhibit one as evidence.” I hold the blueprint up for the jury. “I show you today the blueprints submitted to city hall by Miller Industries. You have all been given a copy of the layout. Please note the first-floor zoning layout.” I shift to hold eye contact with Sherman. “There is no projected plan for a daycare of any sort.”
Sherman breaks eye contact with me, his chin dipping as his eyes close. The jurors share in the gutting of betrayal by Benjamin Miller.
“Mr. Sherman, I only have two more questions, then I will let you get back to your family. Can you state for the jury the injuries you sustained the day of the accident?”
The question summons memories. Sherman’s throat bobs, choking down the painful recollection of that day. “I was about twenty yards from the pit when it exploded. The pressure shot me forward, and I slammed into the digging trencher. The blades ripped right through my leg and arm, damaging my nerve endings where I no longer have use of most of my right side. I have third degree burns down ninety percent of my back. I’m lucky to even be alive.”
I take a moment to allow them to process his life changing injuries before addressing the jury. “A man who got up every single day to support his family, his children who need him, now fights every day just to get out of bed. He is no longer able to support the needs of his children’s health, nor pay the necessities of a home, food, and care. That day took everything from this family. A fake promise from a man only seeing dollar signs for his own benefit.” I take a deep breath and speak to Sherman. “Where are your children now?”
Sherman stares at me, his eyes filling with sadness and pain. “In a state facility.”Betrayed and heartbroken, he slumps in his chair. “We had to forfeit parental rights because we didn’t have the means to take care of them.”
“No further questions, your honor.”
There’s a round of audible gasps and shock as our last witness takes the stand. No doubt because it’s hard to see. Even I struggle to hide the guilt and remorse for what he’s endured.
“Can you please state your name for the record?”
He brings a device up to his trachea, his prosthetic voice helping him speak. “Caleb Johns.”
“Caleb, can you tell the jury how old you are?”
