Bonnie Adams: Domestic violence is a horrible cycle that can be stopped

The prosecution of domestic violence offenses is not for the faint of heart. These cases can be some of the most challenging of the lower-level felonies for a prosecutor to process and see through to trial.

Trying a domestic violence case almost always requires explaining the complex cycle of domestic violence and how it affects a victim’s behavior to a jury that initially struggles to understand it all. Many times, we must explain how the victim’s version of events has changed over time, why they continued to communicate with or return to their abuser, why they were dishonest with law enforcement or initially denied the abuse.

In some cases, we have to proceed with the victim (who is also our material witness) still denying the abuse or its severity, or even without the victim testifying at all. And unlike most other cases wherein victims are cooperative and often thankful for the job that we do, we frequently encounter quite the opposite with victims of domestic violence. It is not uncommon for these victims to be angry the case was filed and demand that we stop pursuing it. They can be hostile, combative and overtly averse to each step we take to protect them and obtain justice.

This stark contrast in how we are received by these two different groups of victims became incredibly apparent to me when I found myself getting cussed out during my first encounter with a victim in a very serious domestic violence case. Oddly enough, it would turn out to be the case that inspired me to write this today.

I was an experienced lawyer — but a newly elected prosecutor — when I encountered a domestic violence case involving a young lady (we’ll call her “Jane”) who was battered by her husband in front of their 12-year-old son. Jane’s sister came to help, and Jane’s husband pulled a gun and shot a round toward Jane, her son and sister.

The altercation ended when Jane’s sister called 911 after Jane’s husband put a loaded gun to her sister’s head and threatened to take her life. During my interactions with Jane at the beginning of the case, she was very resistant, non-cooperative, hostile and unwilling to disclose much of anything. However, four months after the case was filed, Jane decided she was going to leave her husband, and he responded by breaking into her home and battering her. It was after this event that my relationship with Jane began to change, but it didn’t happen immediately.

After Jane’s husband broke into her home, law enforcement seized Jane’s and her son’s electronic devices to help us determine the husband’s intentions and what took place in the days leading up to the burglary. This was a difficult but necessary decision to make and, as I expected, one that made Jane even more upset with my office. However, what I would come to learn during the investigation into the burglary — and in large part from the search of Jane’s phone — was crucial evidence that would help to prove our cases and give Jane’s husband a sentence that would actually be able to protect her from him.

In the 17 days leading up to the burglary, 2,700 text messages were exchanged between Jane and her husband. The messages showed that her husband had been following and stalking her, had threatened multiple times to come to her job when she didn’t respond to him, and to kill her in front of their son. He even had a camera in her home that he required her to have turned on so he could watch her whenever he wanted. The degree of control and severity of the situation was far worse than I could imagine, and I struggled to understand why Jane had never shared any of it. However, following the arrest of Jane’s husband for the burglary and the search of her electronic devices, Jane slowly began to reveal to me what she had been enduring.

Jane began to share the realities of the abuse she had been suffering for more than 15 years of her 20-year relationship, including the threats her husband had made to kill not only her but her family as well, the times he had threatened her with a gun, and when he beat her during her pregnancy with their son. So many horrible acts of violence, yet not a single conviction on his record for any of them, due in large part to many of the reasons we too often see in domestic violence cases. However, this would change due to Jane and her son’s bravery, and Jane’s husband would finally be held accountable.

Both Jane and her son testified against her husband at trial, and he was convicted of all six counts and given a sentence of seven years with six executed. Jane’s husband was later convicted of the burglary, as well as stalking and invasion of privacy in two additional cases. In total, he received a sentence of 28 years, 22 executed. Jane is now divorced from her husband, engaged in a healthy relationship and, she says, “getting to live life, instead of just surviving.” Now, having a case end in this manner would have been a big enough blessing, but Jane and her story would go on to bless me even more.

My conversations with Jane during this time were incredibly enlightening, but she later wrote a letter describing and explaining some of her feelings and actions during the time when law enforcement and my office were so intimately involved in her life. Reading this letter really helped me to understand her experience on a much deeper level and was incredibly encouraging.

I often reflect on this case to remind me to continue to pursue these cases aggressively yet compassionately, as someone’s life may just depend on it — even when they are cussing you out and fighting you at every turn.

I want to share some excerpts from that letter in the hope that you too will be both enlightened and encouraged:

Being in survival mode is hard to explain. It’s chaotic and scary. My brain was doing what it thought would keep me safest. It made me submissive at home to keep the peace but combative and rageful at anyone who tried to help me out of an impossible situation.

Realistically the cops are there for 20ish minutes. (My husband) knew where I slept. The extreme threats to me, my son, and family kept me from speaking the truth. I knew he’d end up bonding out and how violent and capable of harm he was. … When the court ordered a no contact order my body went into panic mode. … So when the police and prosecutor tried to help me I absolutely refused, thinking if they stopped pursuing all would calm down and current problems would go away.

But that no contact order was the best thing for me! It was like the static was turned down and I could hear my own thoughts and feelings. I began to feel peace and not just the absence of abuse but a whole new way of living, that still takes getting used to at times.

Jane would go on to say how the no-contact order coupled with the patience, kindness and empathy of law enforcement and my office would make all the difference in her ability to finally tell all that had happened and go to trial. And when we got to trial, you could almost physically see the burdens of the secrets she and her son had been carrying for so long being slowly lifted from them as they told the courtroom what they had endured.

Jane ended her letter with this:

We often talk about help arriving “just in time.” For me that wasn’t a metaphor. The police intervention was the literal line between my past and a future I almost didn’t get to have.

We are all aware that, on average, a victim of domestic violence will return to their abuser seven times before finally leaving the relationship. Seeing this statistic play out repetitively can be incredibly discouraging. Today I want to remind you just how important and impactful the role as prosecutor is in these cases, just as Jane reminded me.

I look at each victim like a flower. Just like we don’t always get to see the moment a flower blooms, we often don’t get to see the time where a victim leaves their abuser and is fully set free. However, just like a flower requires being watered, fed and weeded along the way, victims sometimes require multiple encounters before they leave. But each encounter is a step toward the day they leave, and it takes a prosecutor to believe in them, to stay the course even when it’s difficult and to encourage and fight for them, so they may see that day come.

So never underestimate the necessity and value of the ones you watered, fed or weeded along the way. You simply will never know just how many lives your hard work, passion and compassion helped to change, even if you were only privileged enough to see a few cycles broken.•

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Adams is the elected prosecuting attorney in Warren County.