Start Strong

Karen (USA)

My writing experiment:

Principiis obsta (et respice finem:) 'resist the beginnings (and consider the end) -- Romans

The final and fatal blow came on December 7th, in the middle of the pandemic, as the prosecutors all watched, remotely, from their desks at work, or from their kitchen tables while they worked from home, or maybe watched later, on television, as the newly elected District Attorney walked up to the podium to take a sacred oath of office.

The setting for this dramatic change was an every day one, the new normal for the 1,200 prosecutors who swore to take an oath to uphold the law and serve justice each and every day of their working life. Now, important events, life changing events, could take place in the warmth and comfort and security of your own home, in front of a computer screen, with your dog sleeping at your feet. It was, however, an unthinkable way to evaluate the character and honesty of a person, something they all did every day when interviewing witnesses, meeting with victims, choosing a juror. But they adapted, and they watched, sipping their coffee with their dogs sleeping at their feet, t-shirts on top and pajama bottoms on a chair, as their world was about to unravel completely.

His name is George Gascon. A thin, narrow-faced man with pointy nose and angular jaw, tortoise shell glasses and thick white hair, his face seemed pleasant enough at first glance. Or for those receptive only to the pleasant, likeable persona he worked to convey. He was, after all, a used-car salesman by trade. Until he became a police officer, rose to power through corruption, and evaded consequences by becoming a lawyer. But every conman has a "tell". And when George Gascon relaxed his pleasant effort, you could see it - the downward slant of his natural scowl curling up at the edges of his thin lips like a predatory animal salivating, about to indulge in his conquered prey; his narrow, linear eyes with enlarged pupils crowding out all white to reveal almost total blackness.

You could see if you were watching closely in the split second before he talked about the changes he would bring to the District Attorney's Office. He spoke in general palatable terms that allowed the listener to hear their favored interpretation. The cynic zooming in on their computer screen could discern the slight dropping of the eyebrows and eyelids and tightening of the lips into a brief smirk, a gloating. After all, this was George Gascon's moment of greatness, and he new it and could not hide it. This was his ascension to the lead of the largest, most powerful local prosecutorial agency in the country. And to catapult himself onto a national stage.

As he walked up to the podium, he stood tall in his expensively tailored suit, polished brown lace-up oxfords, and his crisp white split-colored shirt and sincere sky blue tie. He was disarming, a wolf in sheep's clothing. He faced a lone camera and placed his hand on a leather book for this "virtual" swearing in ceremony. Though the pandemic required this ceremony to be virtual, if truth is to be found in metaphors, this event was rife with them. The clues were all here foreshadowing what was to come for the objective and observant and cynical: the room was empty but for his wife who administered the oath, and a lone cameraman there to operate equipment and transmit his message:

"I recognize for many this is a new path … whether you are a protester, a police officer or a prosecutor, I ask you to walk with me. I ask you to join me on this journey,” he said. “We can break the multigenerational cycles of violence, trauma and arrest and recidivism that has led America to incarcerate more people than any other nation.”

This quote was reported by his most ardent supporter in the media, the Los Angeles Times, which stated in a caption below the photo of the pivotal moment, "Los Angeles County Dist. Atty. George Gascón takes the oath of office as his wife Fabiola Kramsky holds a copy of the Constitution on Monday at the Kenneth Hahn Hall of Administration in Los Angeles. He became the county’s 43rd district attorney during a virtual ceremony (italics added)" with the oath of office read to him by a judge, an arbiter of justice, who also appeared remotely from her chambers.

The Times told the public what their eyes should see, like the weavers of the Emperor's new clothes, rather than what their eyes did see: that Mr. Gascon solemnly swore "to support and defend... against all enemies, foreign and domestic " and "bear true faith and allegiance" to the constitutions of the United States and the State of California, with his hand placed on a leather book, a book that upon closer inspection held an ipad and a calendar. These were his only governing principles - a timed plan to electronically execute his version of a constitution, upon which he would grandstand to the media in front of his wife, in front of a camera, with justice, remote.

Just moments after swearing to uphold this oath, Mr. Gascon fornally announced his plan. But for those DA's watching virtually from their offices, their computers announced multiple incoming messages during the ceremony. Someone in the new District Attorney's Administration carefully timed pressing "send" to all 1200 of those then employed - a series of "Directives" numbering more than 100 pages. These directives, slice by slice, effectively unwound the criminal justice system in Los Angeles County as we knew it on December 6th.

While delivering his message, to reduce the cycle of violence and over incarceration, (which most agreed was appropriate and the result of overzealous legislation such as Three Strikes which attempted to slow previous extreme violence and crime), every Deputy District Attorney began reading these eight sweeping new directives designed to ensure the reduction of punishment, the release of the convicted from jail and prison, by single handedly acting as the legislature and the court in undoing the enforcement of criminal laws, all by the new chief law enforcement officer of the geographically largest and most populous county in the United States.

It was the very last of these eight directives that would be her undoing, the beginning of the end for her. She would not stay in the water as the heat was turned up.

This is the story of the tearing down of the criminal justice system in Los Angeles, the rise of lawlessness and violent crime, the marginalization of the underserved, the rise of homelessness and addiction, the degradation of society in Los Angeles...and the story of how it was possible to carry out such destruction as many watched, some protested. This story the man who took the oath to enforce the laws and the constitution, but instead dictatorially eviscerated those laws. And he ordered those under his employ to follow his direction and his directive or be punished. Many, but not all would just follow orders.