The Verdict

It was the start of a highly contested battle. In the morning I went for a run. I ran to close to a mail box and its metallic handle caught my T-shirt sleeve, ripping it. After writing several blog posts I decided to go downtown and surprise Terry by stopping by her office. Walking downtown I noticed the constant sound of helicopters. They were hovering by the courthouse and I realized that the Casey Anthony trial must have come to a close. I walked towards the courthouse. I knew that Brian Feldman had gotten into the courtroom so I texted him to find out what was going on inside. I didn't know this at the time, but the verdict had been read several hours earlier. When I didn't hear back from Brian, I turned off my cell phone.

A hot dog vendor next to the courthouse was arguing with a costomer at his stand. He said, "I can't believe they found her not guilty of child neglect!" That was the moment when I knew the verdict. I saw a crowd of people outside the Bank of America building and I wondered what was up. News anchor Geraldo Rivera shuffled out of the crowd onto the street. A man rushed up to him and asked for a photo.

Across the street from the courthouse there was an empty lot full of news vans. I sat in the shadow of a fence and started sketching the channel 13 news crew. A female newscaster practiced for her report. Crowds of people rushed around shooting photos and home movies with their iPhones. A man walked by holding a sign that said "Murderer!" He raised it over his head pointing it towards the circus of news vans in the empty lot. The woman with him shouted out with a drawl, "Come out of there Geraldo!" She must have been angry about the verdict and blamed the messenger. Two bystanders shouted out "Hey Casey's parents just got in that Black SUV!" The SUV drove off and they waved. The windows were tinted so I couldn't see inside. An ant bit my hand and I flicked it off.

Terry and Amanda were meeting for Margaritas at Paxia. I decided to join them. As I walked away the sounds of the helicopters slowly dimmed. Here one day, gone one night.

Casey Anthony Case

A little more than two years ago, when I first started doing a sketch a day, I found myself sketching at the damp uprooted woods where Caylee Anthony's body was found. I also attended a memorial service in her honor at the First Baptist Church. For me the endless media coverage of the trial seems ridiculous in the face of the human tragedy that is being flaunted for profit.The empty lot across from the courthouse was over run with TV media trucks with their satellite disks pointing to the heavens. As I approached the site I bumped into Louise Bova who bikes past the courthouse every day on her way home. She pointed out that there were even more trucks parked in another empty lot across from where we stood.

I nestled myself in the shadow of the Bank of America building. In the courtyard behind me a musician was setting up the amplifiers for his guitar to sing to patrons at the bar. He began singing "Let it be" by John Lennon. For me the music was soothing, appropriate and somewhat comical relating to the scene spread out before me. A homeless man who I had just seen sleeping under an I-4 overpass walked on the sidewalk in front of the media trucks. He saw some trash and picked it up and put it in a trash basket attached to a light pole. Peter Murphy waved to me as he biked by. Moments later my phone vibrated and there was a tweet from Peter announcing that he had just seem me sketching. "Keep Orlando awesome" he tweeted.

To be honest I am not following the constant TV coverage of the trial. In the morning I asked a teacher who was watching all the TV courtroom drama what she thought. "Guilty" she said. There are lines of people that start forming at 4am and yesterday a fight broke out when someone tried to cut into the line. This kind of spectacle certainly doesn't make Orlando look good. People keep suggesting I should sketch the trial. That would involve getting up at 4am and standing in line with those lunatics. I think not. If any media wants to issue me a press pass then I'll be there in a heart beat.

As I sketched a tourist stood taking photos. He became curious in what I was doing. He told me his girlfriend used to live right next to the JonBenet Ramsey home. That was a case where a little girl who competed in beauty pageants disappeared. He was annoyed that such cases become a media circus while many other children go missing with hardly a headline and other children go hungry.