Last Class

Last night was the seventh and last class out of a series of six citizen academy classes. I thought it would be easier and shorter.  Wrong!  We are scheduled from 6:30-9:30 p.m.  We usually get out around ten p.m.  Last night I leave at 10:45 p.m. and we could have stayed longer.  I am the one who stood up at 10:45 and said, "Thank you!"  I started the process of ending otherwise we might have been there all night. Many times during the evening I thought about leaving. Somehow I felt an obligation to stay.  I am a citizen.  I am a member of this community.  The lesson we learned was hard but I stayed.  Sometimes I had to cover my eyes to avoid the gory scenes of the power point presentation but I stayed.  I can't stand gore or violence.  I don't watch crime shows on television because I get ill. Sometimes, during this class, I had to suppress the waves of nausea that rose from my stomach but I stayed.  I stayed until the bitter end.  At the beginning of the class we were joined by 3 Girl Scouts and (surprising to me) their fathers.  I believe the girls were middle school aged.  The detective told us about crime scene investigations including DNA, finger prints and other evidence. One one screen she showed sources of DNA including a cup, clothing and a condom.  She showed a condom to middle school girls?  She actually said the word ejaculate?  My mind travels back to the 1990's. I am a Girl Scout leader at the junior winter camp-in.  My troop, well, they're great but they don't sleep at the junior winter camp-ins.  They stay up all night talking and disturbing the other troops.  I don't let it get to me.  To make this girls sleep at night is like sweeping up feathers. Much effort but not much result.  As we leave the weekend at the junior winter camp-in (between Elk River and Zimmerman) the lack of sleep has affected my mind and I mention that the Blaine water tower looks like a condom.  "What is a condom?" asks one innocent girl (now a psychiatric resident in Chicago).  I really regret my words but, unlike this detective, I didn't show her a picture!  We go for a tour of the detective vehicles with their various cases of equipment for finger prints, DNA, markers of evidence, and other equipment. When we come back from the garage the detective and the fathers have a discussion. These girls want to stay for what follows. The detective warns them of the graphic nature of the presentation.  The fathers want to stay. The detective convinces them to leave.  Well, good for her because I can't take what follows.  An 18 year old girl from Saint Paul puts an ad on back pages.  Her mother reports her missing. I know her name. I see her photo.  I learn she met someone in Brooklyn Park.  Her mother learns that her car has been found in a Brooklyn Park apartment complex and towed to an impound lot. The detective goes to the impound lot.  It's December.  Her frozen body, wearing only socks and a sweater is found in the back seat of her mother's car, crammed into the floor with only one leg up on the seat, covered with a floor mat and a sheet, her body is frozen wearing only a sweater and socks. We see photos of her body in an awkward position.  She froze solid on the floor of the back seat with one leg up on the seat.  Really?  How are we not re-victimizing her by viewing these photos?  Add to bucket list - not to be a victim on a law enforcement power point presentation.  Later we see the photos of the Andover victim of arson/murder.  I am thankful the Girl Scouts are gone.  Nausea hits me as I view the naked photos of a burned man. Close-ups of the  print marks on the skin from his feet as he virtually walked out of the skin on his feet a day before he dies from burn over 80% of his body make me sick. I cover my eyes again.  Should I walk out of here and go home?  Should I stay and be an informed citizen?  I stay.  Later we learn about another investigation of a death.  It turns out this man died from a head injury after ingesting too much wine. He was found two days after his death.  Was it necessary to show us pictures of his messy house? He landed in the kitchen with his face right over the heat vent.  Did I want to see a close up of his dead face projected on the screen?  Lordy.  I suppress the nausea and cover my eyes.  I am so glad this class is over. I am also glad I chose my job over others.  I am not the person cut out to investigate crime scenes.