We’re now on Day 2 of jury selection in the trial of George Huguely, the University of Virginia lacrosse player accused of murdering his former girlfriend, fellow lacrosse player, Yeardley Love. I’d by lying if I said I didn’t have a dog in this fight for so many reasons. Mr. Huguely is represented by the same defense team that defended one of my rapists, and, seeing the coverage is certainly a bit of a trigger – it’s like time has stopped. Same courtroom, same Rhonda and Fran, same supporters of Miss Love, wearing pink, as my sorority sisters did in solidarity, much to the consternation and objection of Ms. Quagliana.
It seems as though Judge Hogshire (same judge) is allowing the photographs of the crime scene, in a late decision this past Saturday night. Defense found these photos to be “prejudicial.” I daresay a jury should be allowed to see the photos of the alleged victim. Round One = Prosecution (same prosecutors, Dave and Claude).
In reading the excellent reportage from The Hook, The Daily Progress and WaPo, there seems to be a common thread among many commenters that they’ll be seeing Mr. Huguely “walking on the Downtown Mall” in about 10 years, due to the perception that Charlottesville juries are not so tough on defendants and that Charlottesville Circuit Court has a longtime history of short sentences for felony crimes. Feel free to comment on that one.
All I know is that my thoughts over the next few weeks are not with the ridiculous posturing and machinations of the defense team (they are, after all, doing their job) or how poor George had a terrible upbringing with an abusive, addict of a father and a pleaser of a mother. My thoughts are with Yeardley and her mother and sister and the notion that justice, even in the midst of a liberal jurisdiction and a media blizzard may be done.
May there be strength to all involved and prayers to the family – and wise choices on the parts of the jurors, prosecutors and Judge. I’ll be covering this and other subjects in the foreseeable future. It’s time we began to talk about this again – are University of Virginia (and other campus) women simply collateral damage behind the storied, ivied walls of a very traditional, Southern, sports-and-fraternity loving entity?