Picking Cotton

Ronald Cotton and Jennifer Thompson
answer questions at Miami University.

In 1984, Jennifer Thompson was raped in the middle of the night in her own off-campus apartment. She woke to find a man in her room. Once she realized that he intended to rape her, she decided to focus on her assailant and memorize every detail about him that she could in order to help the police catch and convict him. She narrowly escaped her assailant that night and underwent a rape kit at the hospital and worked with the police to make a composite sketch based on her description of the man. She later picked Ronald Cotton as her rapist from a batch of photos, and identified him again in a line-up. Cotton was convicted and sentenced to life in prison. He served 11 years before DNA evidence proved he was innocent in Jennifer’s attack and he was exonerated of the crime.

Thompson and Cotton have since collaborated on a book that tells their stories, and now make public appearances together to bring awareness to the fallibility of eye witness identification and the number of people wrongly convicted based on that testimony.

I was fortunate enough to hear them speak last night as part of Miami University’s Criminal Justice Week. The room was packed to standing room only, and yet, as Jennifer spoke, you could have heard a pin drop. No one moved. No one rustled or made any sound at all. We were riveted.

I know that Jennifer has told her story hundreds, if not thousands of times now, and yet, she mustered up all the fear, anger, rage, and hate that she went through. Her performance made us feel as though the rape and trial had happened just months ago. We were right there with her, hating Ronald Cotton, too. Except that Ronald Cotton was the wrong man.

Once she finished, he rose from his seat and walked up to the podium to tell his account of the story. Soft-spoken and much less emotional than Jennifer, Ronald described the confusion he felt when he heard that the police were looking for him. He went to the police station to clear up the matter and was instead handcuffed, arrested, and placed on $150,000 bail that his family could not pay. Later, in court, Jennifer identified him again as her attacker and the jury came back with a guilty verdict.

He told us all of this matter-of-factly. Then the judge asked him if he had anything to say and instead of words, he broke into song; a song he had written to God while he was incarcerated awaiting trial. He sang it for us, just as he had in court, and we sat spellbound.

Despite the fact that Ronald has shared the platform with Jennifer during all their speaking engagements, his speech was not as polished and practiced. Instead, his quiet demeanor came through and we could feel what a gentle man he is.

Both Jennifer and Ronald described what life was like once he was released from prison. He wanted to meet her, but she was scared to death that he would hate (and possibly hurt) her for what her testimony had done to him. Family members finally convinced her to meet him so the two met at a church. She immediately apologized to him, telling him that she could never apologize enough, but hoped that someday he could forgive her.

“I forgave you years ago,” he said. And that changed everything for her.

I read Picking Cotton a couple years ago, so was already familiar with the story, but hearing them speak together was more powerful than I ever could have expected. They intend to keep traveling around the country, encouraging people to work toward justice reform. If you ever have the opportunity to hear them speak, do. Their story will change you, too.

Our House Got TP'ed!

We woke up this morning to find that our house had been TP'ed during the night. Halfheartedly toilet-papered; they only used two rolls, but still. It came as quite a surprise. And that's exactly how we reacted: surprised.

When I think about toilet-papering a house, I think of juvenile pranks intended to either irritate the person who lives there, or elevate them, like athletes who dump a cooler full of Gatorade on their teammates. I'm not sure how this episode was intended. It was pretty harmless, and we found it amusing, so I'll go with it being fun-spirited.

We're trying to figure out who might have done it. I wondered if my husband was the target? He's a teacher. One of his students could have figured out where he lives. Or it could have been aimed toward my daughter's attention. Maybe a neighborhood boy likes her? Of course, our house could have been chosen at random. Or it could have been the antics of one of the neighborhood kids who knew that we wouldn't get upset about it.

Whatever it was about, it amused us. We've never had this happen, and felt oddly special to have been singled out.

I'm sure we would have felt differently if it had rained.

Now I'm wondering what will happen to our house on Halloween?

Summer Ends with a Snowball Fight

My husband knows how to create magical moments. One of which was the snowball fight that my kids and their cousins partook in as summer ended.

He grabbed the Tupperware container that has been filling our freezer for eight months. Inside, were a dozen snowballs that he and my daughter collected during their snowball fight last winter. He had the foresight to save some so that we could have a snowball fight with my son when he came to visit from Georgia -- where he rarely sees snow.

So we summoned the kids from the pool and went from this:

To this:

Summer passed so quickly that I didn't even blog. And now we're zooming forward to winter, which means more snowballs, and then another epic snowball fight next summer. One of the more joyous cycles of seasons and life.

love anthony

from Amazon

My nephew is autistic.

Ever since he was diagnosed, I've read anything I come across that has to do with the subject. The back blurb of Lisa Genova's novel love anthony caught my attention immediately. She tells the tale of a woman who is grieving the loss of her autistic son, and trying to make sense of his short life.

Not surprisingly, I flipped immediately to the Author page to see whether she was dealing with autism in her own family, but the brief bio on her gave nothing away. I bought the book and began reading instead, and knew I'd made the right choice on page 15, when Genova writes this about her character:

     When Anthony turned three and they were told with certainty what they were dealing with, she believed she'd find somebody somewhere who could help them, an expert who could transform their lives.
     She scoured every self-help book, then every medical journal, every memoir, every blog, every online parent support network. She read Jenny McCarthy and the Bible. She read and hoped and prayed and believed in anything claiming help, rescue, reversal, salvation. Somebody somewhere must know something. Somebody must have the key that would unlock her son.

When Wyatt was diagnosed, I, too, read Jenny McCarthy's book, and blogs, and memoirs, trying to see if there was something we could do to pull Wyatt through "the window" as Jenny described it. We inundated my brother and his ex-wife with information and they processed their own information, and we all moved toward acceptance at different speeds.

I'm not Wyatt's parent. I'm his aunt. And as such, I know I can't cure him. I can't experiment with the multitude of approaches that seem almost limitless in their scope. It's not up to me - or any of us, really, to try to "save" Wyatt. This book helped me see that. My brother and his ex-wife already seem to know that. This is Wyatt. He is autistic, and that's okay.

But there's still that niggling to figure out how to connect with Wyatt in some way. The boy in Genova's book is so much like Wyatt that I was both excited and nearly compelled to write to the author and tell her how much her book validated everything we've experienced with Wyatt. He is so like the boy in the book that I was astounded. And I came away from the reading with one little take-away that I feel like I just have to try.

The boy in the book likes musical birthday cards. I know Wyatt isn't Anthony, but I'm going to go buy a card anyway, because what if Wyatt likes it, too? I'm not sure I can ever stop trying to reach him.

Hollywood Comes to Mansfield

When the producers of The Shawshank Redemption began scouting locations, they wanted an empty prison to use. With its imposing structure and stone walls, the Ohio State Reformatory (OSR) was the perfect choice.



Much of the movie features the cell blocks where Andy and Red reside, and the outside yard where their friendship was formed. I had hoped to see the cell blocks featured in the movie, but learned that they had to build that set somewhere else since prison cell blocks don’t face each other. Some of the administrative offices were in good enough condition to be used as movie scenes. The Warden’s office was intact, and the safe we see him enter his ill-gotten gains into was set into the wall here.


I shared the shots of Brooks’ apartment in my last post. That was on location, as well as the room where Red approached the parole board each decade.

What I don’t have pictures of are scenes from other movies filmed at the Ohio Reformatory. Movies like Air Force One, Tango & Cash, Fallen Angels and Harry & Walter Go To New York. Plus, Marilyn Manson once used the site as a backdrop for a fashion layout.

Haunted Mansfield

Not surprisingly, the Ohio Reformatory is also the site of many paranormal investigations. On several occasions throughout the year, the prison hosts Ghost Walks, overnight Ghost Hunts, and Haunted Prison Halloween Tours in October.

Zac Bagans of Ghost Adventures filmed an episode here. Apparently, his partner Nick felt burning sensation in one of the cells. (But then again, doesn’t someone from Ghost Adventures always feel some sort of attack?)

The TAPS crew of Ghost Hunters filmed here, too.

My husband is dying to go on an overnight ghost hunt, but I’m not as eager. The building is creepy enough during the day, with lead-based paint peeling from the walls and ceilings and rusted iron bars disintegrating onto my body and clothes. I peered into many of the cells and then scurried down the rusty plank toward the slightly-more sturdy rusted stairs.





Though I’m sure I’ll give in eventually and hunt for ghosts all night, I was satisfied wandering through the prison during the day. In addition to our regular self-guided tour, we took a “Behind the Scenes” guided tour of the nooks and crannies of the prison. For $5.00, it was quite a value! We spent an hour and a half with our guide, exploring the basement, solitary confinement, the attic, the armory, both cell wings, and learned the history of the prison and the changes it underwent throughout the years.

It’s actually a beautiful building. Even the decrepit parts were majestic, in their way. But I felt no need to wander around there at night with a flashlight and EVP device, crouching in musty, cramped cells looking for ghosts. After all, Ohioan Jeffrey Dahmer’s picture is hanging among the Ohio Penal System artifacts at OSR, and I have no desire to meet him, dead or alive! Nor any of his prison pals, either.

We Got Shawshanked!

The Shawshank Redemption

…voted 2nd best movie of all-time (second to The Godfather) on imdb
…nominated for 7 Academy Awards in 1994
…deemed best film never to have won Best Picture in a 2005 BBC poll
…earned 3 and 1/2 stars from Roger Ebert

If you haven’t seen the film based on a short novella by Stephen King, rent it. If you’ve seen it and loved it, head to Mansfield.



Mansfield, Ohio is a small city in the middle of Ohio with a big claim to fame. It’s where most of the filming of The Shawshank Redemption occurred, and this August the town will celebrate the 20th anniversary of its success.

We were graciously invited by the Mansfield & Richland County Visitors Bureau to explore The Shawshank Trail. It began with a complimentary Shawshank package at the Quality Inn. I wondered if I should worry about a prison-movie package at a hotel, but curiosity got the best of me. What could a Shawshank package mean? A room behind bars with bread & water for breakfast? A rock hammer and a poster so that I could eventually work my way out?


Not quite. We entered the room to find a bevy of goodies relating to the movie: two tickets for the Ohio Reformatory tour, chocolate “prison” bars from The Squirrel’s Den, Jail House Java from the Blueberry Patch, a Shawshank tote bag, Andy’s Diet Root Beer, Red’s Strawberry Soda and a driving map to explore the rest of the Shawshank movie sites around town.

Brooks Was Here. So Was Red.

Our first stop was The Squirrel’s Den, where we wanted to see the chocolate replica of Brooks’ apartment. Brooks, as you may recall, was the old man released from prison, who had trouble adjusting to life outside bars.


A block from there, we stopped at the park bench where Brooks sat and fed the pigeons, hoping his jailbird crow Jake would return. Then two blocks down, we saw the Bissman Building, which was used as the external façade of the apartment building Brooks moved to.




Later when we toured the prison (which I’ll feature in a separate post), we learned that the actual room featured in the film was a small room near the chapel inside the prison. Here we saw the famous “Brooks Was Here. So Was Red” etching in the wood.



Other Shawshank Sites:

You may recognize the background in this scene. This is the outside of the prison where Red and Andy often sat and talked in ‘the yard.’ It’s also the imposing stone wall that Andy first sees when he arrives in shackles at prison and enters the gate.



A few miles away, on private property across from Malabar Farm is the oak tree that Red goes searching for at the end of the movie. There is no stone wall, and the tree looks a little different now that a tornado took down half of it, but trust me. This is the tree.

In addition, other Mansfield businesses have created Shawshank paraphernalia.
— The Ed Pickens Café has a Shawshankwich sandwich.
— Cypress Wine Cellars has bottled a Reformatory Red wine.
— Two Cousins Pizza offers a Redemption Pie.
— The Olivesburg General Store has a Shawshank Sundae, and is where you’ll find the original ceiling lights from the movie.
— Relax, It’s Just Coffee revs up with Shawshank coffee.
— Eatmor Bundt Cake has cooked up a Shawshank bundt cake
— And, of course, the Quality Inn & Suites Mansfield has put together a Shawshank Trail package, a Shawshank Reunion package, and offers Haunted Mansfield packages, too.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a town embrace their Hollywood claim to fame in the way Mansfield has. But maybe it’s because few films are as legendary as this one.
 

May 18 & 19 - Greed and Gluttony at the Book Sale

Few things bring me as much joy as a "Fill a bag with Books for $5.00" sale. I look forward to these every year. They typically mark the last day of a used book sale, when the sellers are eager to get rid of their inventory rather than having to pack it all up and haul it away again. Can you blame them?

Knowing how fast the premier titles can go, I always go to the book sale the day before to buy the books I think I can't live without and to scope out the rest. It's good to know where to start.

So yesterday was relaxed and leisurely. I took my time browsing through books, reading inside jacket covers and getting a lay of the land. It was a nice way to spend an hour or so.

Today's bag sale was more brutal. It's hard to believe that a library's used book sale could bring out the worst in people, but it does. Year after year after year. It never fails to amaze me.

I got there early. I always do. It's part of the experience to be lined up at the door. I didn't have the wheeled carts that many people bring, nor the milk crates that they sometimes tether to their walkers and wheelchairs. Used books are a serious business.

I stood there in line; the fourth person. I saw school librarians I knew from my days working at Scholastic Book Fairs, and I saw my own childhood school librarian. Not surprisingly, I was the youngest one in line.

And yet, when the doors opened, the old men and women standing behind me rushed the doors with their carts and milk crates. I ended up being about the 20th person through the gate. They stampeded over to the used CDs, DVDs, and audio books and grabbed up hands full at a time without even bothering to look at the titles. Within minutes, six long 12-foot tables stocked with electronic media were completely emptied. Then they turned and chewed their way through the books like termites.

I managed to fill my bag with individually-selected books that I intend to read. By the time I left, the tables were emptying, too. Most of the patrons bought far more bags than they could carry. But I guess that's the nature of the bag sale, isn't it? Gobbling us as much as you can until next year -- when I'm sure to see the same characters again.