Accusers had undergone the stress of preparing to testify publicly about what they had kept secret for years. A judge had been brought in from western Pennsylvania to assure objectivity. This small town had closed off its downtown square to accommodate parking for hundreds of members of the news media. And grim anticipation had built for weeks, with armed police climbing to the roof of the town’s courthouse.Rico says WHAT
Then, as Jerry Sandusky, the disgraced former Penn State football assistant, was about to face some of his accusers on charges that he had sexually abused them as boys, he unexpectedly waived his right to a preliminary hearing just as it began in a packed courtroom.
Sandusky’s accusers were left to guess at his motives. Local officials moved to take apart what they had scrambled to put together: a safe location for a case that had made headlines across the nation. Sandusky’s lawyer, who for weeks had said he looked forward to facing the accusers, instead disparaged the young men as liars who were out to get money.
Sandusky, accused of sexually assaulting ten boys, left the courtroom shortly after entering it with his wife and several of his children. He again asserted his innocence and used a football metaphor as he shouted at reporters, “We’re going to stay the course and fight for four quarters.” Sandusky, 67, also waived an arraignment scheduled for January. A pretrial conference has been set for March. Meanwhile, he will remain under house arrest and must wear an ankle monitor.
Ben Andreozzi, a lawyer for one of the accusers, said his client had been anguished for weeks about having to testify, and was shocked by the development. “I can’t believe they put us through this, only to waive this at the last second,” Andreozzi said his client had told him.
From the time of Sandusky’s initial arrest in early November, the preliminary hearing, often a procedural matter meant merely to establish if there was enough evidence for a case to go forward, had taken on unusual significance. Sandusky’s lawyer, Joseph Amendola, had said it was important for Sandusky to see his accusers and begin to formally mount his defense.
In an hourlong exchange with reporters outside the Centre County Courthouse, located ten miles northeast of the Penn State campus, Amendola described the last-minute decision as a “tactical measure.” He said: “We are not in any way conceding guilt,” adding that the hearing “would have been a recitation of the allegations without realistically being able to cross-examine the accusers for credibility.”
But lawyers for one of Sandusky’s accusers said they believed the waiver of the hearing increased the likelihood of a plea arrangement. A law professor who attended the hearing said Amendola had probably received a signal from prosecutors that they were willing to offer an acceptable plea deal. Otherwise, waiving the hearing and losing a chance to cross-examine witnesses and perhaps establish some inconsistencies in their testimony “was a lousy tactic” by Amendola, said Wes Oliver, an associate professor of law at Widener University in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Oliver predicted any plea arrangement would probably call for a sentence of twelve to fifteen years. This would allow accusers to avoid having to testify publicly about being sexually molested, Oliver said, and given Sandusky’s age, might amount to a life term while also giving him some hope of spending his final days outside prison.
Marc Costanzo, the senior deputy attorney general of Pennsylvania, said no plea discussions had been held in the case in which Sandusky is accused of more than fifty counts of sexually abusing ten boys over a number of years. Sandusky met all of them through a nonprofit organization, the Second Mile, that he founded to work with disadvantaged children.
In interviews, Sandusky has admitted showering and wrestling with boys, but he said he did so as a mentor and considered the boys his member of his extended family. He has denied abusing them.
Slade McLaughlin, a lawyer for an eighteen-year-old accuser known as Victim One, also said the waived hearing seemed to indicate that Sandusky was considering a plea arrangement. “This has to be a situation where he’s seriously considering throwing in the towel,” McLaughlin said.
Michael Boni, another lawyer for Victim One, expressed relief that his client and ten other witnesses who were scheduled to testify would not have to “relive the horrors that they experienced.”
Victim One met Sandusky when he was 11 or 12, prosecutors said, and was given gifts like golf clubs, a computer and cash; was taken to sporting events; and was sexually molested in Sandusky’s home over a period of months.
Justice for Victim One would be best served in a manner that is the least stressful for his client, Boni said. “That means not having to testify,” he said. “If a plea deal is struck in such a way that justice is served, and we all view whatever the sentence is as a fair sentence, then I believe that would be optimal for Victim One.”
Dressed in a dark suit, Sandusky arrived at the courthouse at 7:57 a.m. Eastern, about a half hour before his hearing was to begin. Two armed law enforcement officers stood on the roof of the courthouse above the entrance that Sandusky used to get into the building. As he entered the courtroom, it immediately went quiet. His wife, Dottie, soon entered with a dozen supporters, including four of the family’s adopted children.
Outside, it was a chilly, clear day in Bellefonte, a usually sleepy town of 6,100, which is known for its Victorian architecture and for having produced five Pennsylvania governors in the 1800s. The front lawn of the courthouse was packed with reporters and the town square was put off limits to residents, so members of the news media could park their cars and about 30 television satellite trucks.
About 100 reporters were allowed into the hearing, and a second courtroom was used for the overflow. About 100 members of the public were also allowed into the courtroom. Before any witnesses were called, lawyers for both sides approached District Judge Robert Scott. Sandusky waived his right to the hearing, which ended with an acute sense of anticlimax.
Matthias Conaty, 43, drove from Wilmington, Del., to hold up a sign outside that read, “Protect Kids Now, Pa.” Conaty said he had been a victim of sexual abuse as a child. He expressed disappointment that Sandusky had waived the hearing at the last minute, saying, “It was as if he was toying with the victims.”
Denny Nau, the sheriff of Centre County, said costs would not run as high as expected because the hearing was waived, but said some residents had been inconvenienced by disruptions to downtown traffic. “Some of the stores weren’t too happy because they’ll lose business,” Nau said.
Amendola, Sandusky’s lawyer, made his most direct attack on the motives of the accusers. He said they were clearly seeking money from Second Mile and Penn State. “What better motivation could there be than money?” Amendola said, adding that he would attempt to use phone and text messages to show collusion among some of the accusers. “If Jerry Sandusky is innocent, then maybe he’s being victimized,” Amendola said. Amendola said a key part of Sandusky’s defense would be to question the integrity of the Penn State assistant Mike McQueary, who told a grand jury that he had witnessed Sandusky raping a boy who appeared to be 10 in a university shower in 2002. Amendola said the case was a “fight to the death,” for Sandusky, calling it bigger than Penn State’s victory over Miami for the national football championship at the 1987 Fiesta Bowl, when Sandusky was Penn State’s celebrated defensive coordinator. “This is the biggest game of his life,” Amendola said.
14 December 2011
An idiot, going quietly
Jeré Longman and Nate Schwerber have an article in The New York Times about Sandusky:
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