Tag Archives: Bereavement

What Justice? Where?

It is my opinion that the justice system does not, and will never work.

Take the Stayner brothers for example.  7 year-old Steven Stayner was abducted by Kenneth Parnell, kept in captivity and sexually abused for seven years before he escaped.  The return to his family was fraught with adjustment difficulties.  The family did not receive trauma counselling.  Sadly, Steven died at the age of 24 in a bike accident.

The older brother, Cary Stayner, later landed up on death-row as a convicted serial killer.  He was sexually abused during his childhood but never told.

Kenneth Parnell was a paedophile with previous convictions and sentences.  For the Stayner kidnapping he received a seven-year sentence of which he served only five.  After his release and already quite advanced in age, he tried to buy another little boy.  For this he was sentenced 25 years to life under California’s three strikes law.  This law and not his crimes, finally removed him from society.

A stranger tale cannot be conceived but it serves to highlight some problem areas:

  • The Accused.  How is man with Kenneth Parnell’s background given seven years for the crime he committed against Steven Stayner?  He received equally light sentences for his other offenses.  It is because they only charged him with the kidnappings, never for the sexual offenses.  We must keep in mind though that some things have changed since the 70’s.
  • Defence Liars (exceptions excluded).  Who defends a man like Parnell, and why?  Okay, so the court appoints an attorney to defend the accused because every man has that right, and is presumed innocent until proven guilty.  But to defend him as though you want him back on the street?  As though he is innocent?  Come on!  And if a Liar is highly paid for defending someone like Parnell, his crime is the greatest.
  • Counselling.  Would Cary Stayner have turned into a murderer had he received trauma counselling?  For something as little as an armed robbery my family had to.  It is virtually impossible to deal with trauma, to file away what had happened and to have a healthy mental outlook afterwards without it.  Apparently it was offered to the Stayner family at some point, but rejected.  Again, in the 70’s the importance of counselling was not yet understood.  Of course I do not know if Cary would have killed had he properly dealt with Steven’s disappearance but I do know that if the family had been helped to work through the loss and eventual return of Steven, they would have been better equipped to deal with their emotional losses and wounds.  Cary stated that he felt neglected during the years his parents were grieving for Steven, and this is normal in most households where parents lose a child.  In fact, the disappearance of a child is almost worse than a death because the bereavement never reaches its logical conclusion.  Cary also said that upon Steven’s return they had to share a bedroom and that he resented that.  He was jealous of all the attention and gifts that Steven received.   The child needed help.
  • Evidence.  The business of not entering into evidence ALL known facts about the defendant misleads the jury.  It is impossible for them to fully understand the accused, what drives him and what his habits are if half of the facts are inadmissible.
  • The Jury System.  It is difficult enough to have a husband and wife agree on important issues, how much harder for twelve people?  And ‘a jury of your peers’ is a laugh.  A peer is someone of a similar age, race, education and background.  Someone who can identify with you.  [Definition of Peer: one that is of equal standing with another: equal; especially: one belonging to the same societal group especially based on age, grade, or status].  It therefore stands to reason that in a shoplifting trial, real peerage would mean that the jury is made up of shoplifters.  Who knows?  Perhaps they would actually give a proper and fair verdict.  In a first-world society I believe that a judgement by a judge (????) is far more accurate.  A person with knowledge of the law and hopefully, a good insight into human behaviour.  In third-world countries unfortunately, it opens itself up to abuse like threats and bribery.

So what is the solution to the lack of justice?  I think that after examination it becomes clear that there is none.  We live in an imperfect world, populated by imperfect people who implement imperfect systems based on imperfect ideas.

Because of that we will always have those who are imprisoned innocently as well as the guilty walking free.  The only hope is if everybody, from the lowliest cop right up to the judge, and further onto the lawmaker, strives for the truth.

John 8:32  “…… and the truth shall set you free”.


My Heart is a house with many rooms

I walked up the path and entered the front door.  I went up the stairs and saw that there were rooms on either side, right down the hall.

I opened the door on the far left, it was bright and sunny and friendly.  Tyron lived there.  The next one was similar.  Kyle lived there.  I opened door after door and recognized the rooms of those that I loved.  They resided within me.

The last door was nailed shut.  Why would that be?  I hesitated.  It was not inviting.  But the Lover of my soul drew alongside me and started pulling off the boards.  I helped.

We entered.  The curtains were black and drawn.  Cobwebs hung in the air.  The Lover flung the curtains open to let the light in.  Then only did I see him.  My father, lying dead on the bed.  I was repulsed and shocked.  Why a dead person, why did he even have a room?

Lover started tidying up, I assisted.  Afterwards it looked just like the other rooms, cheerful.  But there was still a dead person on the bed.  Lover explained that just because a person had died does not mean that they do not live on in our hearts.  That I had to resurrect him so that I could enjoy and love him, and the memories of him.

I sat down and touched him.  He arose from his sleep, smiled and sat up.


On my way out I encountered a wandering soul in the passage.  I asked:  “Why don’t you go to your room?”

He looked at me sadly and replied:  “I don’t have a room, but this is my home.”

I was surprised, but realized that I had never given him a space in my heart.

“Well, right now I don’t have a room for you”, I said.  “But one day I will.  Here, use this broom cupboard for now until my love for you grows to the size of a room.  It is not your fault.  I will make up for it”.

I pushed him into the broom cupboard.  He looked at me gratefully, with love.  We both understood, and it was okay.

I left that house down the stairs and out the front door, back down the path.