A Tale of Two Widows

By Michael Hohauser

They could not be more unlike. Jurate is an American of Lithuanian descent. Sarah is an African American. Jurate’s forebears were Generals, high bureaucrats in the employ of czars. Sarah’s forebears are lost in the predations of slavery and dislocation.

In May, 2002 Jurate’s devoted husband of 55 years, was bicycling, engaged in a plan of rehabilitation from back surgery. Riding down a straight, level country road in bright sunlight he was run down by an 84-year-old physician who was legally blind in both eyes. The man knew he was blind. His eye doctor told him. The physician’s insurance paid a very substantial settlement.

Sarah’s husband was one of the most loved men in Flint, Michigan. A hard working factory man all of his life with many loyal friends, he was killed on February 22, 2004. A much younger man, also a factory worker, ran him down in front of a social club. The drunk driver went on to hit another man who lingered for a month and also died. Sarah’s husband was killed instantly. Members of the social club, hearing a commotion in the street, came outside. Seeing the two men in the street, one dead and one dying, they unloaded over 50 rounds of ammunition in the direction of the fleeing van. Still, the drunk made it home. He parked. He went inside for the night. Cruising the area the police found a van riddled with gunshots. They arrested its owner. He was uninsured. Sarah collected nothing.

Both Sarah and Jurate are religious women. Their bitterness is softened by the eternal. All either of them wanted was justice. The physician who killed Jurate’s husband never even received a suspended license, let alone a jail term. He suffered no consequences. He continues to drive the same truck. The man who killed Sarah’s husband is facing a jury trial. He claims to have been affected by prescription medicine the night in question.

The tale of these widows is a microcosm of the system of tort law which this country has developed over many years. The microcosm contains both good and bad. The money paid to Jurate will not return her husband. But it assures a comfortable retirement. Sarah continues to work in a factory, as she has her entire adult life. Neither are young women. The men who fired 50 rounds of ammunition at the van which fled leaving two men to die in the street, wanted justice. No one thought of money.

Part of the reason for our tort law has always been to promote a sense of justice so that people do not feel violence is their only resort. Sarah’s husband’s loved ones and friends have seen no justice from the criminal system; no justice from the civil system. If it weren’t for the means at hand leaving bullet holes in the van, the guilty party would not even have been arrested.

At this writing Jurate is on her way to Lithuania. She is on her way to Lithuania in order to claim land left to her by her illustrious father and ancestors. That land is now claimed by the Lithuanian government. That government takes private land and leases it to well placed monied interests for 99 years. It is public theft for private gain without public benefit. It is the legacy of the enslavement of the communist mentality. The determined daughter of a General, Jurate will have her say on the matter.

Sarah waits for the trial of the man who killed her husband. This tale of two widows emobodies the inconsistencies and ambivalence of what the law can do and what the law will do.

We live in a time in this country when many of the lessons that were learned over 500 years of common law history are being disassembled by the courts. One can only wonder where this will lead. People need their day in court. To feel they have received justice, people need both sides of the equation: criminal prosecution and civil compensation. As our courts and legislators close the door on more and more areas of tort law, it is well to remember that people react when they feel abused.