Stevie was never easy. When he was only three weeks old he refused to eat and had to be fed intravenously, at 24 months he decided he would no longer speak, and at 17, he packed a bag and left home without saying a word to anyone. The only reason his parents knew he was alive was his continued presence on social media. Stevie was troubled, he caused trouble for everyone around him, and he got into trouble with the law without much effort to avoid it.
Anyone who is a parent knows that parenting is not easy; never has been, never will be. Mistakes are made and small victories are celebrated. But what to do about a deviant child; that’s a nearly impossible problem to navigate. Many give-up.
Stevie’s mother, Lee Anne, was tired of hearing about gun violence, drug related tragedies, and the consequence of street gangs, on the news. She didn’t know exactly what Stevie was involved with, but her instincts told her it was criminal and potentially dangerous. His father Carl was less concerned. Carl was too busy with work and basketball, to be bothered. When Lee Anne tried to talk to Carl about Stevie, he tuned her out. It wasn’t that Carl didn’t care, he just didn’t have the right tools to deal with Stevie.
It seemed at times that there was hope for their son. There was this one time when he volunteered for an animal rescue shelter. He went to the shelter after school for weeks. Stevie was focused on the animals, finding them a home and their overall happiness. But even that became a problem when he tried to prevent the shelter from euthanizing some of the older, unadopted animals. The shelter had to ban him from volunteering there; it destroyed Stevie.
When Stevie decided he’d plan and execute a break-in at the Brooklyn Federal courthouse, he knew it would eventually land him in prison. His moral compass prevented that eventuality from deterring him. He knew in his heart that he wasn’t a hero, that he could never take the moral high ground, but there were things that truly got under his skin.
Stevie was watching the news one day while hiding from the world. He’d seen where this federal judge was deliberately misleading the jury in a tax evasion case. It was really getting under his skin because the defense lawyer, who was court appointed, was ignoring or not calling attention to the judge’s obvious obstruction of justice. The prosecutors were often tongue tied and bewildered. Something had to be done.
Of course Stevie knew that breaking into Judge Lindell’s chambers wasn’t the smartest thing to do. He’d done similar deeds in the past and hadn’t gotten caught, making him feel emboldened. The problem being, that the more he got away with, the more righteous he became. Stevie convinced himself he could do this, so stopping him would have been impossible. A above the law, assisting the law.
Friday afternoon at 5:45 p.m. when the courts were set to close, Stevie put his plan into action. He walked into the security area carrying an Uber Eats bag. He knew security would be lax so close to weekend recess. He also knew that they probably wouldn’t bother to check with the clerk; he’d witnessed several late deliveries that went unchecked on days he was observing. He wore a very convincing wig, eyeglasses, and a baseball cap. He looked like every other male delivery person. He scribbled a signature and he was quickly ushered in. He silently laughed about how easy it was to enter the halls of justice.
Judge Lindell’s secretary was not at her desk, her computer had been shut down. He opened the Judge’s Chambers knowing for certain that the judge had already left for the day. Security was aware of the back door exits. He was hoping the old school judge kept paper files; he wanted to take what he needed and head for home. A pile of folders on Judge Lindell’s desk were neat and in alphabetical order; his secretary was clearly tidy. There it was, Kenneth Jackson’s file right in the middle of the pile. He quickly sorted through the file and noticed ten pages clipped together, marked “omit for trial.” He was disgusted by the judge’s blatant breaking of the law. Stevie photographed the pages and closed the file. Not being able to help himself, he attached a post-it note, reading, “Your honor is cooked!”
Stevie could barely sleep a wink, he was excited to expose the corruption. He woke early and went straight to the Fedex office to send what he had found to the district attorney. He was certain that even if the DA was in on the corruption, he’d be forced to take action because the evidence was out there and would eventually be leaked to the press. A note Stevie attached to the evidence, made it clear that unless the judge’s cover-up was brought to light, there would be further consequences. The very next day, the New York Times reported on a Grand Jury that would be hearing the case against the judge. There was to be a quick indictment and a new judge appointed to the Jackson case.
Stevie got to have four days of glory before the police came calling. He was arrested on two counts of illegal entry to a federal office building, and eight counts of the theft of state’s evidence. Stevie’s parents were made aware of his arrest and crimes. A family attorney was hired to represent Stevie. Carl and LeeAnne were of course upset about Stevie’s actions, but they were also proud of their son. They hoped for leniency due to the nature of Stevie’s case. They assured Stevie that once released, they would help him in whatever ways they could. Now that they knew that their son was “on the right side,” their support would be unwavering.
After pleading guilty, Stevie was given a light sentence of six months, four of which he had already served while awaiting judgment. The mayor of New York was made aware of the case and decided to put Stevie in charge of a corruption task force. That office went on to bring hundreds of cases to trial, with equal numbers of individuals exposed and brought to justice.
Carl and LeeAnne Page, who never gave up on their son Stevie, created a foundation designed to help young people who may be morally and ethically inclined to justice, direct their energy in a way that would help them change the world.
This piece is fiction
State-of-Mind
First, thank you to everyone who reached out to me after losing Paco. There have been some really bad days and some upbeat moments. Those of you who have lost a pet will understand.
I’m not so fond of extreme heat. I feel fortunate to live in the Algarve where we often have a nice breeze off of the Atlantic ocean.
Loss can help you put things in perspective. I feel like I’m finally beginning to focus on the things that matter.
I am admittedly hyper focused on managing different aspects of my life. If something is broken, I work hard to figure out a way to fix it. One of the many things coming up for me as I grieve Paco’s loss, is that he had a medical issue and I could not fix it. I was frustrated, angry, and l lived with the inability to correct a problem I was certain could be eventually solved. Aside from the infection Paco was living with, he was fairly healthy. I was hellbent on killing that bacteria. In the end I failed. That failure has been more difficult to cope with than I imagined. How is it that the medical world has allowed many antibiotics to become ineffective? Do people realize that there are strains of bacteria that are killing us? I don’t think humankind understands the weight and scope of this problem.
I know my writing is weak on this one. I haven’t gotten to a positive, creative place. Time and patience.
“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes… and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.” — Jamie Anderson
Papagni Pages 