A Mother or a Murderer

This post will be more of a venting session than anything else. And in some ways, I think I am writing it to preserve the way I felt when this epic story wrapped itself up.


I found myself on the floor of Ms. Miller's high school Latin class in the Fall of 1995. We were all huddled around an alarm clock/radio who's time was blinking as 12:00. Undoubtedly the power had gone out, and Ms. Miller hadn't thought to reset it as she was clamoring to plug it in and find the stations that were broadcasting the OJ verdict. I remember hearing the stories of where my parents were when they heard the news about Kennedy, and while I have enough perspective to know that the assassination of JFK was on a much grander scale than the joke verdict of this make-believe trial - I do remember wondering if this would be that kind of story for me later in life. I wish, now, that I could go back and read what the 15 year-old me thought about all of that - and so, to the 50 year-old Karen who might be reading this one day to remember what 30 year-old Karen thought about the Casey Anthony case, here you go.



I was at the kitchen table in the condo in Florida when Billy looked up from his laptop and said "did you hear?" - without missing a keystroke (on my laptop) I said, "you'll have to be more specific" (rather flippantly - or maybe rudely is the better adverb). "did you hear the verdict?" Now the typing stopped. I looked up - scooted back in my chair - folded my arms against my chest and said "no. way." At this point I already knew - you see, a guilty verdict is not news, it is not shocking or exciting, it is nothing to gossip about. It is more of a casual comment over dinner "so they found that crazy guilty as sin" "Figures." A not-guilty verdict, that is something else. I must have said the words "you are kidding me" 6 thousand times - and then I got up on my soap box, and I have yet to step down.



In some ways, this is like a fatality car accident for me. Whenever I drive past them, I am mindful of the fact that, it was someone's life that was lost, and probably someone's loved one, and as much as I would like to look away, out of respect, I find myself craning my neck to get a glimpse of, perhaps just a tarp. Maybe it is the sheer curiosity of it, maybe it is the reality of it, maybe it is a reminder of my own mortality or even my own vitality as I zoom by - alive. It seems that I am treating the details of this case that way. Every written word I read, every court document that is released, I devour - even though it literally sickens me. I get a knot in my throat when I see pictures or read sterile, overly clinical forensic descriptions of the circumstances surround the death of that sweet child, but yet I keep searching. I recently found a link to all of the public court documents - and while there are over 1500 pages of them there are a few that were interesting enough for me to lend a pause and a cursory glance. They are all as sickening as they are obvious - and how on EARTH this verdict came back the way it did, ESPECIALLY in less than 24 hours, is beyond me.



I won't pretend to understand all of the legal nuances that were invariably critical to this particular litigation, and at the same time I won't except credit for being well versed in the intimate details of the case. I know enough to know, however, that from the outside looking in, this is open and shut - and if the red-tape, judicial mumbo-jumbo got in the way, then the system is broken and needs repairing. Below is what I do know - and it is more than enough.



A babe was missing for 30 days before her mother reported it.

A mother of a missing babe was out living the good life in the time after her babe went missing.

A grandmother called 911 about the concerns about her own daughter's involvement in the disappearance/murder of this child - and said grandmother reported that the car smelled like a dead body.

A syringe and Chloroform traces were found in the back of Casey's car.

Chemicals that are consistent with organic (or living matter) decomposition were present in the trunk fibers of Casey's car.

Someone, on CASEY's computer, looked up "how to make chloroform" and "how to break a neck"

The initial counsel representing both Casey and her parents stepped down (conscience is my guess)

The remains were placed in a laundry bag and then a trash bag and thrown in the woods for animals to have their way with. The same materials were found in Casey's home.

And the only thing that she was found legitimately guilty for, LYING, was the theme of her life the past 3 years.



The idea that Casey Anthony will be out in the world and (NOT STERILE) is more than just alarming - it is disgusting. The justice system is supposed to protect the greater good from the threat of heartless, spineless monsters like these - and this is on the order of an epic fail. EVEN if you believe the preposterous story about a cover up of an accidental drowning (an event that in 100% of other cases does not need covering up) the fact that she is capable of even that should be a solid indicator that she is not a functional, safe or necessary element of society. Occam's Razor says (in not so many words) that the simplest explanation is usually true. So, what is more likely? This lying, selfish, irresponsible mother, who is indicated as culpable by most, if not all of the physical evidence, did this in an effort to free herself from the chains of parental responsibility so she could go out and win as many "hot body" contest that her heart desires. Or her father, Caylee's grandfather, had Caylee drown on him, and then instead of calling for help - enlisted the help of the daugther he had spent the better part of 20 years molesting to cover up the accidental death, and all of the other incriminating details were coincidental. Hmmmm.



So to all of the people out there who say that reasonable doubt was the undoing, I say, there is nothing reasonable about doubting for one second that Casey Anthony is a soul-less, hell-bound, murderer who drugged her own babe one too many times and then threw her away like garbage hoping she would never get caught, or hoping that if she did get caught, things would turn out exactly as they have - primo conditions for a lucrative book deal. To the 12 jurors of Orange County - I threw up in my mouth a little bit when I heard your verdict - I hope Nancy Grace invites each and every one of you to her show for a tongue-lashing that rivals some of her Natalie Holloway ratings bonanzas. Shame. On. You.