OPINION

MASTERSON ONLINE: Up on the roof

A convicted murderer escaped from Cummins Prison 10 years ago by pretending to be a guard, spending less than a week on the lam before his capture.

Just the other day, this same man, serving life without parole, pulled off what I'd call a "levitated quasi-escape" from the state's East Arkansas Regional Unit, a medium-security prison at Brickeys surrounded by an electric fence.

For about a day, no one understood how 49-year-old Calvin Adams could have made his way past such a formidable barrier. After all, potential electrocution is a steep price to pay even for a lifer's hopeful freedom.

Guards eventually decided to begin searching high (along with low) for slippery Calvin. That only made sense since it was a safe bet that Adams certainly didn't fly away and couldn't have tunneled himself out with a pilfered cafeteria spoon.

Sherlock himself might have peered into the sky, puffed on his pipe and logically deduced within minutes (much like The Drifters' classic 1962 song) that only one elementary option was available for Adams: Up on the roof.

Remember the words to that song? "When this old world starts getting me down, and people are just too much for me to face, I climb way up to the top of the stairs and all my cares just drift right into space. On the roof, it's peaceful as can be and there the world below can't bother me."

Well, for a day anyway. Sure enough, when authorities decided to search more closely on the roof (they'd reportedly checked it at least once already), there was Calvin hiding in a ventilation hood. He likely was thankful after nearly a day (and beyond ready for a shower, three hots and a cot).

It's reassuring to know Adams was found and put this time in maximum security where he belonged.

Forgiveness amid remorse

Former Dallas Police Officer Amber Guyger (who is white), sentenced the other day to 10 years for mistakenly shooting her upstairs neighbor, 26-year-old Botham Jean (who was black), in their apartment complex last year, has had a punishment leveled on her spirit far more severe than a decade of confinement.

She's also serving a life sentence of remorse and self-recrimination for an unintentional act that sent ripple effects through a family and into the hearts and minds of many others.

The sentence was justified. Her irresponsible action cut far short the promising life of the graduate of Harding University in Searcy. Our actions always bring consequences.

Yet it's impossible to realize the profound regrets Guyger will experience when she awakens in nights to come and cannot turn off the images forever burned in her psyche.

Had I mistakenly fired a fatal shot into the chest of an innocent person because of carelessness and stupidity, I would relive the nightmare until my final breath.

I find myself wondering at what instant the devastating realization of the inexcusable murder she'd just committed washed through her consciousness as she realized her own apartment was downstairs from Jean's. There he was, sprawled and bleeding on the floor, and what just occurred can never be undone.

The fact that the victim's teenage brother Brandt asked permission to publicly hug and forgive Guyger following the verdict was one of the most compassionate and poignant acts I can imagine.

Brandt Jean's remarks were widely reported after the judge granted him permission to speak directly to Guyger. "If you truly are sorry, I know I can speak for myself, I forgive you," he said, according to news accounts.

He also reportedly told her he wanted for her what his slain brother would have wanted: "I think giving your life to Christ would be the best thing that Botham would want for you. I love you as a person, and I don't wish anything bad on you. Can I give her a hug, please?"

After the judge said he could, Guyger rushed to Brandt, wrapped her arms around him, and held him in a long embrace, prompting sobs in the courtroom.

A news account reported: "Dallas County District Attorney John Creuzot, a former trial judge, called Brandt Jean's embrace of Guyger 'an amazing act of healing and forgiveness that is rare in today's society ... especially for many of our leaders.'"

He told reporters that if Botham's 18-year-old brother "can heal and express healing in that fashion, in his words and in his deeds, I would hope that the greater community--not just Dallas but all of Texas and all of the United States--could gain a message from that."

Tammy Kemp, the black female judge who'd just sentenced Guyger, left the bench also to hug her compassionately after the proceedings, whisper a few words and hand Guyger the gift of a Bible.

Meanwhile, outside the courtroom it was reported that the sounds of an angry and often typically predictable 2019 American protest roiled as a crowd complained the prison sentence for Guyger's tragic mistake had been too lenient. That was followed by social-media stories about atheist organizations' complaints over the judge giving Guyger a Bible.

Seems they actually were complaining that somehow the judge's empathic actions with the Bible following her sentencing had violated their rights to enjoy "freedom from religion."

Gosh knows, there's plenty of calculated anger, intolerance, selfishness, irrationality and unfounded hate being fostered throughout society, but far too little empathy and understanding.

Now go out into the world and treat everyone exactly as you want them to treat you.

Mike Masterson is a longtime Arkansas journalist, was editor of three Arkansas dailies and headed the master's journalism program at Ohio State University. Email him at mmasterson@arkansasonline.com.

Web only on 10/12/2019

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