I hated going to prisons. My God, I dreaded this more than going to some of the tough neighborhoods I had to go to. There is something about prisons that are dark and heavy. The barbed wire, fences, guard posts, clanging doors, bars, the behavior of the inmates, the guards and otter personnel.

Scary as hell. 

I I remember this one time I had to go to one in Philadelphia when I had to monitor a lineup. For some reason, there was a large group of people in the room. I can’t remember why but I think it was a tour for our office’s interns. 

When the witness entered the room, she was surprised to see so many people. When she was asked to view the potential suspects, she said she couldn’t recognize or identify any of them. I instantly felt something was off but wasn’t confident enough to speak up as the police officer conducting the proceedings was highly experienced. After the lineup, a junior colleague who was present, accompanying the interns, pointed out that the witness may have felt intimidated by so many people. 

I drove home. But I couldn’t get the incident out of my mind and I felt regret for not speaking up earlier. So I called the prison and tracked down the officer and conveyed my concern that the lineup was tainted. He told me not to worry and that he was sure the witness got it right. 

To this day, I’m not sure what to believe. 

On one hand, I feel terrible for not initiallty saying something as I was required to do. On the other, at least I tried to make things right if I could. I’ve mentioned this before – that I handled some really horrible cases. I was so young when I was first exposed to it all – just 25 – a relative baby. Sounds strange but I rarely ask why God allows things like this to happen. The answers are likely inadequate or unsatisfactory. I realize that maybe we really don’t want answers or explanations, but rather resolutions – that things would somehow be made right, to the extent that they can in this existence.  

Only God can. 

Every New Year’s Eve, I would light a proverbial candle for the crime victims in the city. I lit many candles for many people in this lifetime – family, students, those I fought for and loved. 

And one for you. 

Just one. 

 The one I don’t regret.