Swinging by a VINE
If you, or anyone you know, has ever been a victim of a violent crime, you may be intimately familiar with the automated victim notification programs. They vary, of course, from state to state. And some locales probably don't have them at all. But here, in River City, we're all savvy about the vast benefits of notifying victims of violent crimes that their attackers (who may still be peeved) are getting out of jail. The obvious benefit, allowing victims the opportunity to be prepared, or certainly more cautious, being paramount.
Early one morning, in 1979, I was sitting outside my high school when a man I didn't know walked up to me. I was reading a book. It was fall and the weather was nice outside. But there weren't very many people around yet. The man struck up a conversation with me. Asked me the time. What I was reading. That kind of stuff. And then he asked me how much money I had. I glared at him, a little indignantly I'm sure, and told him "enough for me". His hand shot towards the purse that I had seated beside my left foot, and, luckily, my reflexes were fast enough that I grabbed it at the same time. Effectively stopping him from taking it.
Not sure that was the smartest move, as it resulted in a right cross to my mouth. Which, frankly, shocked the hell out of me...and hurt like a mother! I'd never had anyone punch me in the mouth before. I don't recommend it. But I never let go of my purse. Everything from that point forward took on a kind of slow motion montage effect...both during the real-time event, as well as on replay.
I recall standing, and then kicking him squarely in the nuts. He didn't even dodge. He didn't double over on impact. He just sort of stood there, staring at me in a kind of disbelief. Maybe he'd never met anyone who could take one of his punches before...I don't know. At that point, I picked up my books and purse and walked calmly into the school.
The memory of walking through those doors, immediately following the mugging are some of the most vivid memories I have. The halls were beginning to fill with activity and as I walked, trancelike, past a friend, she stopped me and asked if everything was okay. I questioned her as to why she'd ask. And she said, "because your mouth is bleeding and everything." I had, from the point of walking through the school doors, to where I saw my friend, convinced myself that I'd daydreamed the entire incident. A defense mechanism, I suppose. But when she told me that my mouth was bleeding, it made everything real. And the montage stopped.
She walked me to the principal's office, where I made a report. The school nurse cleaned up the cut as much as she could there. And the police were called. And my mother. I suppose I should back up and say that I live in a city that had, at that time, employed a "forced bussing" desegregation policy within the public schools. So, it was my first experience with an intercity school. My family was not at all pleased that I was sent there. And after this incident, even less so. But, I digress, today it's not about forced bussing. It's about victims of violent crime.
After the police questioned me and drove me around the neighborhood in hopes of spotting the offender just standing around waiting for me to pick him out (by the way, surprise, that didn't work), my mother drove me to the hospital where I was stitched up and sent home.
They never found the guy that did it. I'm sure the police didn't spend any more time on it after the initial report. Alot of bigger fish to fry right here in River City. But my days of sitting outside the school in the mornings were very much over. And that was a shame. I loved sitting out there by myself, the crisp fall air wrapping itself around me, reading or watching the birds...the people coming and going. Reminding me I was alive.
Victims of violent crime have to make the changes. Very much to protect themselves. But the onus is on them.
River City is creditted with the development of the nation's first totally automated service for keeping crime victims informed of the custody status of an inmate. Ours goes back to 1993. Many, around the country, have been modelled after this system. But this is a big town. Getting bigger every day. Given the number of inmates in our state prisons, who are there because of violent crimes, the VINE (Victim Information and Notification Everyday) program handles alot of calls. Maybe too many. Because, a news story this morning made me stop short. Our local VINE Program experienced a "glitch" in the system on Monday, sending about 80 people into a panic erroneously. I can't imagine the horror of getting an automated call, where you can't ask a question or anything, about your rapist getting out of prison years early. And then, after several hysterical phone calls, determining that it was all a big mistake.
As I said, though, our system is the model. And so, it did not surprise me in the least to find that Ohio's program had suffered a similar, though cataclysmically grander, fate over the holidays.
Everyone complains about taxes. About about how expensive government is. About programs that we don't need, or duplications of functions another agency provides. And, yes, definitely, I'd love to see someone campaign on actually doing something practical to streamline some of this stuff. It would cost a fortune on the front end to have humans actually review these things realistically, but it would be so much better in the long run. Both in terms of money spent, as well as getting things done. (On re-read that sounds very republican, doesn't it? I think it's just a matter of being frustrated with how hard it is to work with government. I'm not looking to cut programs, just make them work more effectively.)
However, THIS system was developed for a reason. A good reason. I have no idea the cost to make the corrections necessary to avoid these glitches in the future. But I have to wonder if maybe the answer is putting a more human touch on the system. Though the cost would be exhorbitant. I suppose it's true that the potential for human error is going to be greater than the potential for computer error. But, at least, with a human, there is the capacity to question the information in front of them. And the compassion to try to look into a problem for someone so desperate for answers.
But at least for today, I think the lesson we've learned is...
Don't put all your trust in the system.
It's fallible.
And we're talking about your life, here.
Don't screw around.
Early one morning, in 1979, I was sitting outside my high school when a man I didn't know walked up to me. I was reading a book. It was fall and the weather was nice outside. But there weren't very many people around yet. The man struck up a conversation with me. Asked me the time. What I was reading. That kind of stuff. And then he asked me how much money I had. I glared at him, a little indignantly I'm sure, and told him "enough for me". His hand shot towards the purse that I had seated beside my left foot, and, luckily, my reflexes were fast enough that I grabbed it at the same time. Effectively stopping him from taking it.
Not sure that was the smartest move, as it resulted in a right cross to my mouth. Which, frankly, shocked the hell out of me...and hurt like a mother! I'd never had anyone punch me in the mouth before. I don't recommend it. But I never let go of my purse. Everything from that point forward took on a kind of slow motion montage effect...both during the real-time event, as well as on replay.
I recall standing, and then kicking him squarely in the nuts. He didn't even dodge. He didn't double over on impact. He just sort of stood there, staring at me in a kind of disbelief. Maybe he'd never met anyone who could take one of his punches before...I don't know. At that point, I picked up my books and purse and walked calmly into the school.
The memory of walking through those doors, immediately following the mugging are some of the most vivid memories I have. The halls were beginning to fill with activity and as I walked, trancelike, past a friend, she stopped me and asked if everything was okay. I questioned her as to why she'd ask. And she said, "because your mouth is bleeding and everything." I had, from the point of walking through the school doors, to where I saw my friend, convinced myself that I'd daydreamed the entire incident. A defense mechanism, I suppose. But when she told me that my mouth was bleeding, it made everything real. And the montage stopped.
She walked me to the principal's office, where I made a report. The school nurse cleaned up the cut as much as she could there. And the police were called. And my mother. I suppose I should back up and say that I live in a city that had, at that time, employed a "forced bussing" desegregation policy within the public schools. So, it was my first experience with an intercity school. My family was not at all pleased that I was sent there. And after this incident, even less so. But, I digress, today it's not about forced bussing. It's about victims of violent crime.
After the police questioned me and drove me around the neighborhood in hopes of spotting the offender just standing around waiting for me to pick him out (by the way, surprise, that didn't work), my mother drove me to the hospital where I was stitched up and sent home.
They never found the guy that did it. I'm sure the police didn't spend any more time on it after the initial report. Alot of bigger fish to fry right here in River City. But my days of sitting outside the school in the mornings were very much over. And that was a shame. I loved sitting out there by myself, the crisp fall air wrapping itself around me, reading or watching the birds...the people coming and going. Reminding me I was alive.
Victims of violent crime have to make the changes. Very much to protect themselves. But the onus is on them.
River City is creditted with the development of the nation's first totally automated service for keeping crime victims informed of the custody status of an inmate. Ours goes back to 1993. Many, around the country, have been modelled after this system. But this is a big town. Getting bigger every day. Given the number of inmates in our state prisons, who are there because of violent crimes, the VINE (Victim Information and Notification Everyday) program handles alot of calls. Maybe too many. Because, a news story this morning made me stop short. Our local VINE Program experienced a "glitch" in the system on Monday, sending about 80 people into a panic erroneously. I can't imagine the horror of getting an automated call, where you can't ask a question or anything, about your rapist getting out of prison years early. And then, after several hysterical phone calls, determining that it was all a big mistake.
As I said, though, our system is the model. And so, it did not surprise me in the least to find that Ohio's program had suffered a similar, though cataclysmically grander, fate over the holidays.
Everyone complains about taxes. About about how expensive government is. About programs that we don't need, or duplications of functions another agency provides. And, yes, definitely, I'd love to see someone campaign on actually doing something practical to streamline some of this stuff. It would cost a fortune on the front end to have humans actually review these things realistically, but it would be so much better in the long run. Both in terms of money spent, as well as getting things done. (On re-read that sounds very republican, doesn't it? I think it's just a matter of being frustrated with how hard it is to work with government. I'm not looking to cut programs, just make them work more effectively.)
However, THIS system was developed for a reason. A good reason. I have no idea the cost to make the corrections necessary to avoid these glitches in the future. But I have to wonder if maybe the answer is putting a more human touch on the system. Though the cost would be exhorbitant. I suppose it's true that the potential for human error is going to be greater than the potential for computer error. But, at least, with a human, there is the capacity to question the information in front of them. And the compassion to try to look into a problem for someone so desperate for answers.
But at least for today, I think the lesson we've learned is...
Don't put all your trust in the system.
It's fallible.
And we're talking about your life, here.
Don't screw around.
posted by SuperWife | 8:08 AM
3 Comments:
Wow. There's an anecdote you've never shared with me. Geez.
But, you know, it just shows how amazing you are, and how lucky I am to have you in my life (there I am, making it all about me).
Hopefully, you at least interfered with the sonofabitch's reproductive ability permanently. Him dying slowly in an alley of a rupture is too much to ask for, I suppose...
Good for you, baby.
Nice post, too. You're one helluva blogger. Keep it up.
Yeah, well, I learned at the knee of the master...;)
Highlander having covered all of the important comments, I'll limit myself to drily noting that he should be wary of his student's knee...
Huh, my verification word is 'iopxrqo', which, as we all know, is a South American aboriginal musical instrument made from the intestines and skeleton of a giant anaconda.
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