I pride myself on being a profesional when I’m on an assignment.
I don’t cheer at inappropriate times when I’m covering a baseball game. I don’t jeer people when I’m covering a political rally, even if it’s one featuring someone that I think is an asshole. And I don’t cry on assignment, even if it’s something emotional like a story on kids being hurt.
So I thought that I could handle covering Sen. Barack Obama’s speech accepting the Democratic Party’s nomination for president with no problem because (1) While I may personally think that it’s pretty damned cool that I got to see the first person of color on a major party’s presidential ticket accept his nomination, I know that my readers don’t really care what I think about stuff. That’s why I have a blog. And (2) Black journalists have taken enough of a hit for their perceived lack of objectivity this election go-around. I didn’t want to give my fellow reporters support for this position.
But most of my friends also know this about me: I’ve decided that if Senator Obama becomes President Obama, I want to take two or three busloads of Philly’s most messed up kids to Washington to see the Inauguration. Why? So that they can see what real power looks like and that it didn’t come from the barrel of a gun.
So when a reporter friend of mine called me as I was going into Invesco Field at Mile High Stadium for Obama’s speech, he asked me how many times I had cried already. I told him none, and that I wouldn’t because I’m a professional.
Showing that he knows me better than I thought he did, he asked me again. I had to confess that I did get a little weepy earlier in the day. So he gave me a little advice: You’re witnessing history, Niecy. Take it all in. Don’t just be a journalist on this one. Be an American.
It was advice that I ended up taking. I sat in seat 14, section 137 at Invesco Field, and took it all in.
And I joined many of the reporters, particularly the reporters of color, who found tears running down their faces. Some of us pretended that we were rubbing our eyes. Others just let them run. But it was one of those moments in which history smacks you upside the head, and forces you to really pay attention.
It was probably the same for the folks who covered The March on Washington, which happened 45 years ago yesterday.
And even though I was there, I saw it, and I even have pictures, I still can’t believe that I’m 44, and someone who looks like a guy that I used to date has a shot of being President of the United States. I thought that wouldn’t happen until much, much later in my life.
Shows you what I know.
I’m going home from Denver today, and will be back in my office and in my graduate school classes next week.
But when you come by my office at Temple University on Tuesday, you’ll see something on my cork board that’ll be the only outward evidence of my witnessing history: a button that says “I was there: Obama”, and my DNC press credential.
The rest I’ll be carrying around in my memory. That’s a good place for it, I think.
Take a look at the speech in case you didn’t get to see it, or if you just want to make sure that you saw what you think you saw: the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King’s dream coming a baby step closer to becoming reality.
As I was going into the Pepsi Center in Denver for the Democratic National Convention last night, I ran into Bob Johnson, the founder of BET Networks and one of Sen. Hillary Clinton’s biggest supporters.
(We could talk about how contradictory it is that Clinton, a woman who considers herself an ardent feminist, is taking campaign contributions from Johnson, a man who made his millions encouraging the degredation of African American women through music videos, but that’s a discussion for another time.)
When I asked him what he thought she was going to say, Johnson said that Clinton would take one for the Democratic team and tell her supporters to throw their weight behind Sen. Barack Obama for president.
“I think that what she’s going to say is that this county is in need of new leadership,” he said. “It needs leadership that cares about the issues that she campaigned on and that her 18 million supporters are concerned about. She’s going to make the case that Barack Obama has that kind of leadership and ask her supporters to support him without question.”
For the most part, Clinton did just that when she ended the night at the DNC. She gave a rousing speech that caused the sign-waving crowd to stand up and cheer…. …..and thus saved her ass within the Democratic Party.
The “Tina” half of the “Ike and Tina Turner of Politics” delivered such lines as “No way, no how, no McCain.” and “I’m a proud supporter of Barack Obama” and did them with a straight face. She namechecked Harriet Tubman and even sounded like she meant it when she told her supporters that if they supported her issues, they had to vote for Obama.
But, when Hillary went on one of those “as a matter of fact, it is about me” tears that talked about all of the reasons why she ran for president, I saw a look from Michelle Obama that only a person who was raised by a black woman would recognize.
It was the “Don’t make me have to come down there and beat your ass” look. Having gotten that look many a time in my life from my mom as a kid (and sometimes even as an adult), I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if the next time that Michelle was shown, she would have been minus her earrings….and Hillary would have had to get another pantsuit.
While I would like to believe that Hillary Clinton is going to go gentle into that good night now that she’s been given a prime-time speaking slot and acknowledgement in the DNC’s roll call, she’s gonna have to do a lot more to convince a lot of folks…and believe me, the streets, as they say, will be watching.
But don’t take my word for it, see the speech for yourself if you missed it:
First of all, it bugs the hell out of me that the so-called “Free Speech” zone at this convention is a cage that’s kept so far away from the Pepsi Center that it makes you feel like you’re in another country….one that doesn’t necessarily value freedom of speech.
But now that I’ve gotten that off of my chest, here’s some of the stuff that I’ve learned over the last couple of days.
1-Conventions bring out the strangest folks possible. I mentioned in my first post from here in Denver that I saw, among other things, a truck with a sign on the side that has Barack Obama on one side and a dead fetus on the other. A couple with a similar sign was stationed out in front of the Colorado Convention Center.
My sources here in Denver say that this couple walked into the African American Caucus meeting and started calling Obama a baby killer, something that came real close to starting a riot and led to them being escorted out by security.
I caught up with the folks with the sign today and asked them the obvious question, which was “Where in the hell did you get the picture of the dead fetus?” Apparently, Randall Terry of the pro-life organization Operation Rescue likes to hand them out to folks.
I then asked what proof that they had that Obama himself killed any babies, and they pointed to his pro-choice voting record. I decided to discontinue the conversation once the guy, who was from Iowa, started to cry and tell me that he would lay down his life for the unborn and that God would take his life if he didn’t come here to protest.
Now why these guys got a prime spot in front of the convention center and Recreate 68, a group committed to having demonstrations about everything from the war in Iraq to a possible dust up with Iran, is relegated to a cage behind the Pepsi Center is beyond me.
2-If I ever meet Osama Bin Laden, I’m bitch slapping him because his fucking terrorist attack has made security so tight here that it’s really pissing me off! I’ve been searched so much that I feel like I’m at the damned airport and SWAT teams are literally on every corner. I feel like I’m in Prague.
But then again, some news that came out yesterday kind of makes me glad that some of this crap is in place. You see, some of my “friends” in the White Supremacist community have come to play, complete with guns and ammo.
Anyone who doesn’t know what that means, pay close attention: white supremacists+black candidate for president+guns and ammo=assasination attempt.
I’m not surprised by this bit of news, but it does break my heart. Why? Just why?
and…
3-I missed Michelle Obama’s speech last night. Apparently, it was very good and she acquitted herself well.
For those of you who are like me and missed the speech, here it is, thanks to my folks from YouTube.
Be back a little later with reaction to Hillary Clinton’s speech tonight. Should be interesting.
Greetings from Denver, home of the Democratic National Convention. I got here late Saturday night, went to my so-far-from-Denver-my-friend-had-to-rent-a-car hotel, and have been trying to make sense of all of the festivities ever since.
I’ll be bringing the speeches, protests and other shenanigans that make up the DNC to you as I get a moment to breathe between things. The gavel goes down at 3 p.m. today and folks promise to have us out by 9 p.m. Denver time, which is 11 p.m. eastern time, 8 p.m. Pacific time and 10 p.m. central.
I wouldn’t bet on that. I’ve seen the speakers list. Verbose is the nicest thing I can say.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to ask these folks outside the convention center why they’re showing me pictures of dead fetuses while I’m trying to find some lunch.
Don’t get me wrong, I love a good self-righteous tirade as much as the next guy. But Olbermann’s a master of the art form. His self-righteous tirades require that you look up a word or two.
This is one of his Special Comments and this time it’s aimed at presumptive Republican Presidential Nominee John McCain. On some level, it’s actually funny because he’s basically putting a guy who’s gonna be 72-years-old next Saturday in Time Out like he’s in kindergarten.
Okay, I want to see a show of hands from everyone who’s surprised that Hillary Clinton managed to get her name entered into the presidential nomination roll call at the Democratic National Convention.
Now I’d like to see a show of hands from those who believe that in the end, she’ll do the party unity thing, step aside, give Barack Obama her delegates, and go gently into that good night.
If you raised your hand either time, the weed known as “Pineapple Express” really exists, you have some, and you really need to share because it’s obviously such good shit that it causes hallucinations.
As I said in an earlier post, the main reason that I wanted a credential for the Democratic National Convention was because I wanted to see who threw the first chair when it came time to do the delegate roll call.
Hopefully, the Pepsi Center’s chairs are all nailed down, otherwise someone’s gonna get hurt.
Apparently a deal was struck between the Obama and Clinton campaigns to let her and her delegates have their moment in the sun. Obama says it’ll help bring party unity to let everyone vent and have their say.
I dig what you’re saying, dude. If you get all of the bad feelings out in the open, you have a better shot of solving the problems and getting everyone to join hands and sing kumbaya by the time you all leave on the Friday morning after the convention, thus giving you a shot at a unified effort in the fall.
But what you’re thinking only works if you’re dealing with folks who are at all logical or solution based in their thinking, which in this case you’re not.
You’re dealing with a group of people who steadfastly believe that (a) You stole the nomination from their candidate who they believe deserves it; (b) If they call you a “sexist” loudly enough, they can pick off some of your superdelegates, thus giving their candidate the nod and (c) Are willing to as someone said to me recently, throw the country off the cliff to ensure that in four years their candidate can come riding in on a white horse to save the day.
In other words, Senator, you’re not dealing with people who are going to bother to listen to reason. You’re dealing with people who are bringing their machetes to Denver to do what the Rev. Jesse Jackson only wished he could.
So since you’ve put yourself in this position, my hope is that you have some WuTang Clan on your IPOD Senator, and that this particular song is among your selections. I think that the Wu in this case is giving you the best advice that you’ll receive all convention:
But you know something, I’m still trying to figure out why DNC Chairman Howard Dean, Obama, and everyone else is bending over so far backward to placate Hillary Clinton and her supporters. If you bend any further back, there’s going to be some back surgery needed to fix all of the vertebra being broken here.
I can understand that you don’t want anyone to feel left out, and I remember attending more than a few gatherings after last May’s mayoral primary here in Philly where folks who really didn’t like each other tried to get together and do what they thought was best for the city.
But the line between making folks feel welcome and placating them to the point of spoiling them rotten is a thin one and it’s so close to being crossed now that it’s ridiculous. This latest concession, at least in my opinion, should be the last. The time has come for someone to tell these folks that their tantrums will no longer be tolerated and that if they persist in acting like children, they’ll be put in time out like bad children are these days.
Or, if I can put it more bluntly, it’s time to come out of the damned playpen and start acting like adults. Rolling around on the floor and stomping your feet stopped being cute when you were 5.
Besides, I still say that if the roles were reversed and it were Obama’s supporters causing all of this ruckus, they wouldn’t be getting indulged at the level that Clinton’s supporters have been.
I’ll be live from Denver starting August 24. You can keep up with the craziness here and at a few other places that I’ll list before I go.
Here’s today’s entry for the “How the fuck do you walk around with balls that big?” file.
The parents of Danieal Kelly have filed a lawsuit against all of the provider agencies, the City of Philadelphia, and the State of Pennsylvania in connection with the 14-year-old’s death by starvation in 2006.
I wrote about Danieal a week ago after reading the grand jury report on her death. Her mother, Andrea, was charged with murder and other offenses for allowing her to starve to death with little water or food and her father, Daniel, was charged with neglect and reckless endangerment.
And now, according to today’s Philadelphia Daily News, these two assholes are trying to get paid. The $50,000 negligence suit was filed yesterday, as was a suit on behalf of Danieal’s older brother Troy, who was so distraught over his little sister’s death that he tried to commit suicide.
I’ve got no problem with Troy trying to be compensated. According to the grand jury report, he would sneak food and water in to his sister when he would come and visit. (He lived outside the home.) If he’s given money, it’ll probably go toward helping his remaining eight brothers and sisters.
But Andrea and Daniel? Come on now. You knew you were wrong when you hired the lawyer. You don’t deserve compensation. You deserve to have to live in the same waste ridden, roach infested conditions that you left your daughter in.
Let’s hope that the Feds decide that the “Son of Sam” law applies here and tells these clowns where to put their lawsuit. Or, if it’s allowed to go forward, let’s hope that any money that is gained from this goes to anyone other than this less-than-dynamic duo.
So much for that whole “Obama/Edwards Democratic Presidential Ticket” thing, huh?
I think that in the case of the John Edwards affair fiasco, the above quote from that noted sage Bugs Bunny, says it best. Sure, the National Enquirer tends to wallow in the mud, but when you’re busted coming out of the Beverly Hills Hilton with a woman who is not your wife while the Television Critics Association of America is having its summer meetings, something that practically ensures you of immediate press coverage, you’re looking kinda dumb.
In fact, you’re officially functioning at a level of stupid that’s close to frontal lobotomy-ville.
My mom always says that there’s nothing that you can do in the dark that won’t come out in the light. Gary Hart, Jesse Jackson, and even Bill Clinton could have told you that if the National Enquirer has found out about your other woman, the mainstream media will eventually get the memo, Senator Edwards. Even if you deny it vehemently, get all of your staffers to deny it, and even get your mama to deny it, if the media sees the smoke, the fire is going to be found.
Having been both a heterosexual woman and a political reporter for a lot of years, it doesn’t surprise me much when I see men, particularly powerful men, get their dog on. As Chris Rock puts it, a man is only as faithful as his options. When you’re youngish, good looking, and running for president, you’ve got plenty of options.
But in the case of John Edwards, he also has a wife that’s battling terminal cancer. Granted, she was in remission when he started this affair in 2006, but that’s beside the point. That because he lied about the affair she’s being hit with this now is more than a little uncool.
In fact, if Elizabeth Edwards wants to borrow one of my bats, it’s in the mail, baby. The only thing that would have been worse is if she had been made to stand beside him as he admitted this crap during a press conference.
But I personally don’t think that Edwards’ political career is done because of this, despite the bleating of most political pundits. Why? Because if we took all of the men who have fucked around on their wives and lied about it out of politics, we wouldn’t have a lot of men in office. In fact, we’d be run almost exclusively by women.
I’m sure that once the moral outrage passes, that reality will hit home.
I know that some of you are going to look at the title of this post and get entirely the wrong idea.
Some of you are going to think that I’m calling the presumptive Democratic presidential nominee arrogant and are going to take me to the woodshed. Others of you are going to think that finally, she agrees with me that he’s arrogant.
But when I say that this post is about how Barack Obama is better than me, it’s not about his perceived arrogance. It’s not about the fact that he’s a Harvard Law School grad. It’s not about how he’s managed to become a best-selling author.
I’m saying that Barack Obama is better than me because if Denise Clay had to put up with the crap that Obama’s been asked to put up with from Bill and Hillary Clinton, and Clinton’s more blindly crazy supporters since becoming the nominee, there would be a YouTube video of my tightening either or both of them up by now.
Between Bill’s pouting (which looks bad on a guy that a friend of mine mistook for John McCain recently) and Hillary’s insistence on anything that can make the upcoming Democratic National Convention a celebration of her rather than the beginning of Obama O8, the Ike and Tina Turner of Politics are working my last nerve.
This round of disgust started with an article that I saw on MSNBC.com written by political analyst Howard Feinman. In this article, he talked about how “upset” the Clintons were at a perceived lack of respect on the part of Obama. He wasn’t helping Hillary retire her $20 million debt fast enough. Has he found a spot on the Democratic National Convention stage for them yet?
And my personal favorite: Why hasn’t he offered her the vice presidency? He should because she allegedly has more “purely Democratic” support than he does.
Here’s an excerpt from the note that I wrote to Mr. Feinman in response:
Mr. Fineman,
I just read your column on MSNBC.com and I’ll tell you what I got out of it: You’re basically saying that despite the fact that Bill and Hillary Clinton dealt the race card from the bottom of the deck for about six months on Barack Obama, said stuff like John McCain would make a better president, and basically acted like a couple of spoiled brats after Obama got the nomination, he should play nice with them, make sure they’re taken care of at convention time, and basically kiss their butts. Otherwise, he’s being, and I’m using your words here, cold and calculating. Maybe I’m employing a little street logic here, but why should you play nice with two people who have already shown a propensity to stab you in the back with a machete they get the chance? Why should someone be seen as cold and calculating because they refuse to play nice with two people who are, wait for it, cold and calculating? While I understand that this is politics and you’re supposed to play nice with the other kids to get things done, there are limits Mr. Fineman. If the roles were reversed, would you expect Hillary Clinton to play this nice? Probably not. Why? Because white folks aren’t expected to turn the other cheek.
And I think that’s what’s pissing me off the most. If the circumstances were reversed and a Hillary victory left Obama’s base feeling disenfranchised, there’s no way that she would be expected to do the level of ass kissing to get them in line for November that Obama is being expected to do for Hillary’s base.
In fact, Obama’s mostly African American base would be practically ignored by the Clinton campaign because it would be assumed that they’re going to play ball regardless. Black folks are the Democratic Party’s most consistent voting bloc, after all.
When you add this to the fact that Hillary has decided that her delegates are going to be heard at the convention, and the various interviews that Bill has done that have included the phrase “I’m not a racist”, followed shortly by something that could be perceived as racist, you get someone who worked on the 1996 Clinton/Gore campaign who now wants to stick her foot right up the former First Couple’s ass.
(And don’t even get me started on the Hillary supporters who have pledged to vote for John McCain so that the country will be so trashed that America will ride their girl in on a white horse on streets lined with rose petals. Let me tell you something folks: If she does the dumb shit that you want her to do at this convention and costs Obama the presidency, she probably won’t even retain her senate seat in New York according to my sources.)
Thankfully, they’re dealing with Barack Obama instead of me. Because of this, no one has a black eye or a busted lip. Obama’s been rolling with the punches that have been thrown at him by both Clintons and Republican nominee John McCain. He even got Bill a prime-time slot during the Democratic National Convention.
And the only time that he got even a little bit angry was when folks started going after Michelle and the kids and that’s because any man who’s a man in the truest sense of the word is going to protect his wife and kids.
In fact, I believe that Michelle could handle Barack’s Hillary problem in 10 minutes…and in a way that only a black woman could. I don’t even think that she’d need to take her earrings off or put Vaseline on her face for this one. But she’s as classy as her husband, so she probably wouldn’t do it.
Denise Clay, however, she’d do it in a New York minute. That’s why she’s neither running for president nor married to someone who’s running for president.
So, Senator Obama, in honor of how you’re handling all of this, I leave this post with some advice from one of your favorite artists:
My favorite movie of all time is …And Justice For All. First of all, if you haven’t seen it, don’t click on this clip until you have because this is the movie’s final scene. But I recommend it because (a) it’s one of Al Pacino’s best performances, and (b) it’s about the frustration that people who try to clean up the justice system sometimes experience.
I’ve been thinking about justice and what it means a lot lately. What I’d like to see it mean is that someone has been made to atone for a wrong they’ve committed against society at large. Justice in my eyes is seeing those victimized by someone’s horrible act get the peace of mind that comes with said atonement and the punishment meted out as a result.
But in some cases, justice is impossible. Even if you lock folks up and throw away the key or execute them, the amount of atonement and punishment that would have to be done for it to come anywhere close to justice hasn’t been invented yet.
Once I tell you the story of the 2006 death of 14-year-old Danieal Kelly, you’ll see what I mean.
Now because not everyone who reads The Mad (political) Scientist is from the 215 (or 610 or even the 609) I don’t dabble into local news much here. But there are just some things in this life that command you to acknowledge them and the Grand Jury report on Danieal’s death, to which I’ve put a link to at the bottom of this post, is one of those things. When a 14-year-old disabled child is starved by her mother, ignored by her father, left to die in her own waste, and let down by a system that was supposed to look out for her, looking away is not an option for me. It shouldn’t have been for many of the folks who chose to do so either.
If I achieve nothing else by telling you this story, I hope to answer a question that I get from friends of mine who wonder why I give them such high praise when I see them, especially the ones who are doing it alone, put their kids in front of everything and anything else.
In case you all want to know why I hold you in such high esteem in that regard it’s because you don’t need a license to be a parent. It’s because kids are vulnerable and sometimes folks don’t get that. It’s because the parents that are doing it right are so rare that they stand out anymore.
And most importantly, I do it because I’ve seen, heard and read entirely too many fucking stories like Danieal Kelly’s over 16 years as an education reporter. I do it because I’ll never get the autopsy photo of a 42-lb, 14-year-old girl with bedsores that screamed at you and barettes in her matted and uncombed hair out of my mind.
I praise you because you love your kids to the point of ferocity. This kid could have used some of that.
What happened to her was unnecessary and I’m hoping that she’ll get the justice in death that she never got in life. If you’re not entirely pissed the fuck off after reading this, you need to find a kid to love. You’ll get it after that.
Because I’m the media liaison for the School of Social Administration at Temple University when I’m not doing this, I took it upon myself to read the grand jury report on Danieal’s death in case someone from the media called to talk to one of our professors of Social Work. It was a 200+ page report that read like some gawd awful hybrid of “Oliver Twist” and “Friday the 13th.”
Danieal was born with cerebral palsy, a disease that causes the muscles to tighten up and in some cases spasm uncontrollably. Some with CP are developmentally disabled, others have issues related to walking. But with the right education and medical intervention, people can live very normal and ultraproductive lives with this disease.
I know this because I see it every time I go to upstate New York to see my friend Carmen, who has CP. In addition to being the best police reporter I’ve ever worked with, she’s an award-winning writer who’s working on her masters degree and manages her uncle’s real estate holdings. I’ll literally be hopping off of the plane from the Democratic National Convention later this month and heading to upstate New York for her wedding.
But for someone with a disability to have the kind of life Carmen’s had, you have to have supports.
Danieal didn’t, at least not consistently.
According to the report, her grandmother had asked her father, Daniel, to take her and her brother Daniel Jr. away from their mother, Andrea, because she couldn’t take care of them adequately.
Daniel did as he was asked, but because he was still accessing his “playa card”, he did the minimum. When a woman came into his life who looked at the kids as her responsibility, she made sure that they were fed, clothed, and given what they needed to do well. Danieal, according to the pictures in the report, was a clean, happy kid who was going to school and even riding horses while out in Arizona.
When her stepmother left, all of that went with her.
Once Daniel and the kids returned to Philly, he decided to give custody of the kids to his ex-wife’s mother and took off, never to be seen again. Since the grandmother was ill and couldn’t care for the children alone, Andrea came back into the picture.
Philly’s Department of Health and Human Services came began receiving calls about Danieal in 2003. Each time, the case was closed twice because DHS found the allegations of neglect unsubstantiated. Finally in 2005, they gave the responsibility of making sure that Danieal got what she needed to a private company.
Between the social worker who had Danieal’s file at the bottom of a box filled with fast food wrappers and other papers, the private company who was supposed to check on her and didn’t, and the DHS supervisor that was supposed to make sure that the private company was doing its job but didn’t, nothing was done. Danieal wasn’t put in school. She didn’t get the medical treatment she needed. Nothing.
And she also wasn’t getting much food or water. Andrea wasn’t fond of changing diapers, so she kept Danieal’s food and water intake to a minimum. In fact, this kid stayed in bed in a hot room in a roach-infested apartment most days, in some cases with a coat on.
By the time that I got to the section of the grand jury report that detailed this child’s last days, I was looking for someone to hit. You tend to want to hit people who deny a child water when she cries for it. You want to hit people who won’t allow a brother to call an amublance for his dying sister in hopes of saving her life.
You want to hit someone who won’t summon their friend, a health aide, to the house until she’s sure the child is dead. You want to hit someone who would let maggots congregate in that child’s bedsores as a result of not contacting someone and letting them know she was gone.
The feeling of anger tends to overwhelm. I don’t go around condemning anyone for their circumstances, but some shit is basic common sense. But as a friend of mine often tells me, common sense isn’t always common.
Although going vigilante on these folks would have made me personally feel better, Philadelphia is lucky in that we have our own Dark Knight right here in the DA’s office. Her name is Lynne Abraham and while I generally don’t agree with her on much, when she charged nine people with Danieal Kelly’s death I wanted to shake her hand.
Here’s who is looking at some serious legal wrath:
Mom: Andrea Kelly. She got indicted for murder and related offenses. Dad: Daniel Kelly. He got indicted for child endangerment, although a charge of making dads look like shit should be included. Caseworker: Julius Murray. He was the caseworker assigned from MultiEthnic Behavioral Health, the private agency that DHS had contracted with to take care of Danieal. He got charged with involuntary manslaughter, reckless endangerment, forgery, tampering with public records, conspiracy, and related offenses because he and….. Case supervisor and MultiEthnic founder Mickal Kamuvaka had what the Grand Jury Report calls a “forgery party” to cover their asses on this one. He’s up on involuntary manslaughter, forgery, conspiracy, perjury, and other charges.
And last but not least… DHS Case worker Dana Poindexter, he of the unique filing system. He got charged with child endangerment, reckless endangerment, and perjury. (There seemed to be a lot of that going around.) DHS Case worker Laura Sommerer. She’s charged with child endangerment and reckless endangerment for not making sure that MultiEthnic Behavioral Health was doing its job in this case.
Three of Andrea Kelly’s friends, Andrea Miles, Marie Moses, and Diamond Brantley were indicted on perjury charges for telling the Grand Jury that Danieal was fine and eating well before she died.
To say that they were lying their asses off was an understatement.
Seven other DHS officials, including some folks with more than 30 years in the social work biz, have also been suspended for not doing their job as supervisors and Mayor Michael Nutter said in a public forum, and I’m paraphrasing, if it had been his kid, he’d have kicked their asses himself.
While I appreciate the fact that he’s angry enough to commit assault on Danieal’s behalf, Mayor Nutter would do a little better by her memory by ensuring that no other child under the city’s care knows the pain of dying this way.
Everyone says “Never Again” when really atrocious shit happens. It would be nice if it was backed up for once.
The Mad (Political) Scientist 