Justice for Nancy: Tornados, Truths & Testimony.

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I can’t really tell you the thoughts that have been going through my head the past week, since hearing that Zachery Doan changed his original “not guilty” plea to guilty. While it should have calmed me a bit, knowing that he’d definitely do SOME jail time…. It ended up just pissing me off more. And I never really remember how angry I am until I’m faced with him each time. The brain and body are truly amazing things, being able to turn off the anger to deal with life, and all of its challenges. Quite frankly, court day kills me emotionally, mentally, and physically.  The energy one expels being so angry, and staying in control, while listening to the vilest, reprehensible, horrid act of violence being spoken and admitted to by the perpetrator… is unspeakably hard.

Justice for Nancy. This morning we all sat together quietly, all of us breathing a bit heavy, eager to get it over with. Again, we were in the large courtroom, with “Indians and Pilgrims” everywhere, and the beautiful arched, stained glass ceilings. Today we noticed the law books lining the walls on Indiana law, and the dusty webs in the highest parts of the ceiling. Answering my youngest Darling’s question, I turned back to see the back court door was opening. Orange was the first thing I saw.

He was second in the line-up, linked to the other criminals in that foursome. Direct looks were exchanged as he walked past us to go sit in the box on the other side of the courtroom. It was then, as every other time he’s too close, my heart began to race. Over the following fifteen minutes, we got to watch him smile, and be jovial with his fellow linked-by-cuffs-brother (who has a name of a child’s toy…), and point out who his family members were to his new friends. He smiled, joked, mouthed words and messages, and yawned repeatedly. Suddenly, we got word that we would be changing court rooms.

Entering the next courtroom, it had a different atmosphere. We all immediately filed back into our rows, sitting quietly waiting to proceed. Then he reappeared, but this time, was feet in front of us. See, this courtroom was laid out differently, and in here, the “inmate box” was on the side we sat on. Damn… There was a wooden rail, and two other inmates that separated myself from him. He quickly noticed that his family was on the far side, and he was stuck by us. He used his paper documents to block our stares. Being closer, I could see his greasy hair and his not-even-Velcro’d, white “Keds” shoes. Bet the homies would think he looked rrreal fly now!! He rocked back and forth in his chair, letting his feet dangle at times.

Time seemed to stand still, and the thoughts were pouring through my head, and I’m sure, everyone else’s, too. It’s not just the torture we’d like to inflict on him that we think about. It’s the questions. The what if’s. The whys. Wondering if he is truly remorseful for his crimes. Hoping for a life sentence. Thinking about your last visit with Grandma/Mom/Aunt/Friend before this happened, and how terrible the past almost 4 months have been for her. The feelings you harbor that you never really get an acceptable answer about, why someone would do something like this. Then they declared his case, and my heart sped even more. Justice for Nancy.

He was asked to raise his right hand, which he did, limply. He stated his name, birthdate, and that he was mentally fit, but a bit depressed. Aww, poor asshole. We listened as the magistrate reiterated the charges of 2 Class A felonies, and 1 Class B. The magistrate asked a question, and he responded with, “Say what?” No real care for authority, no real cares in the world. My heart was entering the last lap of the damn Indy 500… He answered “yes” that he indeed did know what he was doing, and did indeed intend to do worse than he did to her. It exploded with hearing those words, my heart. Swallowing the lump in my throat as hard as I could, to keep my angry face, to not fall apart in front of my kids….or in front of him. The devil in disguise. Gut wrenching. In the end, he declared his guilt to 2 Class A felonies. One Class A felony can carry a 20-50 year prison term, and up to a $10,000 fine. And just like that, he was off to his jail cell. Back to his hot’s & cot. Back to being a carefree inmate. Justice for Nancy.

I watched his family exit the courtroom, often in pieces, crying their eyes out. I listened to them in their curb confrontation, with their heavy words, pushing the blame, and “apologies.” I’m sure your family is in shambles, too….sort of looks and sounds like it was before hand though, too. But you know what? You can still SEE each other, right? And you can still pick up the phone, or answer it, when they call, right? And none of your family members are now facing DEATH due to someone else’s actions, are they? Hmmm. If I were you, I’d be thankful he’s not been sentenced to death. I’d be thankful you can have a legitimate conversation with him (well, however legit it can be with someone like him…no brains and zero bricks in the load). I’d be thankful that you can visit him at the good ole penitentiary. I lose my breath if I think too long where I’ll be visiting my Grandma at, sooner than later, thanks to your son/brother/nephew/grandson.

In the next weeks, we’ll prepare for sentencing, which has been scheduled for July 25, 2014. We’ll gather our thoughts, and write the most important statements. Mine will be on behalf of my Grandma, my mother, my children, and everyone else—who have all been robbed of such an important loving relationship with her. See, I feel lucky in one sense that, I got to spend so much of my childhood with her. (Momentary pause to suck tears back into eyeballs, and swallow the new lump…) I can’t wait to share the good moments with the court, and the unfortunate points that my kids will never get that chance again.

This picture was this morning, after getting word Grandma was agitated and upset we headed to see if we could help calm her. She chatted on the phone with her son, visited with her daughter & granddaughter, “planned” Christmas dinner with everyone, and had some of her favorite therapy…lovies from Tiny.

In the next weeks, we’ll need your prayers, and your support more than ever. It’s one thing to be in the courtroom with him, and his family…but it’s a whole other thing entirely to speak, with composure, while in front of said people. For her, we’ll manage. For her, we’ll see this out. For her, we’re doing everything we can. We ask you send her prayers, and spread the word of JUSTICE for Nancy.