The Trial Process

Reporting Abuse

Aug 14

“You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end—which you can never afford to lose—with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.”

— Admiral James Stockdale

Sticktuitiveness and Figureoutability

Admiral Stockdale, a US Navy vice admiral and aviator, and perhaps most famously, a Vietnam POW for over seven years, was interviewed by Jim Collins for his best-selling book, From Good to Great about how he managed to survive in the camp.

He recounted that it was the optimists in the camp that didn't last long - the Stockdale Paradox - thinking they would be out soon, yet finding themselves still there. He knew he would get out, but focused on what he needed to do day-to-day. To paraphrase, you have to believe that the end possible, that better days are coming, but you must also endure and work within the present reality up until then.

Survivors of every stripe have to do the work to get through the hard parts, knowing that someday, the demons will be defeated enough to allow us to feel free again.

Immediately after my trial experience - The Crown v David Ripley - I found extreme elation and relief in the days that followed. I had never felt such joy and relief, I had to write it down at the time to try to describe it. Pent up stress melted away. I had done my part and justice prevailed.

But as time went on, I found minimal closure from the trial, conviction, and sentencing. I thought I was at the end. The magical cure did not materialize. I have struggled to find my path again since then and, in many cases, actually feel worse.

What is the saying? “No matter where you go, there you are.” The trial had passed, but it had not miraculously taken away the lingering shame, guilt and anger.

I realize now, I was like one of the Stockdale Paradox optimists. I was hoping to be “out” by the end of the trial, but the sentence wasn't over. There is still so much work to do.

Mental Preparation

I made a statement to police in Delta, who passed it on to the Truro police. These became part of the evidence in the trial, as did some of the notes I made in therapy, and a timeline I had created to help me position some of the 30 year old facts in my head.

I was deeply driven to find anything that could help piece things back together for me. It’s like this for me: I can’t recall what I had for breakfast last Tuesday, let alone 30 years ago. I might remember the context of a bee sting as a kid if it was really unique but not all of them. But we will remember that time we broke a limb, or nearly drowned, or someone close to us died. These things - these major life events - plus lots of weird little detritus moons of context and facts - stick in our brains.

Timing and Evidence

Previously, before I went to see the police, I had to place in my head for my own sanity when that happened, for example, was an event before one event or after another? We usually don’t have a dear diary entry, or a mark on a calendar to refer back to.

But from little sparks, grow fires. I was able to find out the summer date the film Grease was released in theatres, including in Charlottetown. My mom and dad took me and David Ripley to see it in Charlottetown and, sitting in the back seat, something happened that stuck with me. I knew that the first Prince Edward Island abuse incident that started it all happened before we went to see Grease, and likely that same summer, so I was able to recall and place more and more details in an around these endpoints.

As David Ripley had visited the cottage in the summer, as was tradition for decades, he signed the guest book on departure. There in black and white were dates and references to multiple visits. From there I was able to build a timeline and link other events. I even pulled my parents’ slides and photos from visits when he was there.

The biggest, saddest revelation of the process was to discover how long this had gone on. The multiple incidents had all blurred into a continuous, roiling rage - until one actually thought them through and lined them up again.

Court Preparation

I did my homework about what to expect in court and what things would mean. I also made sure I reminded myself why was I doing this. I kept seeing other people come forward with their stories … and seeing their courage inspired me to stand up and be heard, too.

I flew to Nova Scotia for the preliminary trial date and, on arrival, met with the Crown Attorney.

It was interesting to wrap my head around the fact that the Crown is not my lawyer but, because they believed there was truth in the case, therefore in the interest of the people, they were calling me as their witness. They are the people’s lawyer.

There was a preliminary trial - no jury, just a judge. This was to help the judge determine whether there was enough for the case to proceed. This was one of several cases going on in the courtroom that day so I was answering questions for the judge in front of a lot of people who were simply waiting for their case to come up.

Once it was determined to go ahead, a trial was scheduled but was later moved because of the defense lawyer’s illness.

On the subsequent trip back to Nova Scotia for the full trial, I met with the Crown Attorney again. He asked me questions and reviewed the transcripts and previous testimony with me. I was given a tour of the courtroom before hand to see where people would be situated and get a sense of the space. We ended up in a different space, but the principles were the same.

Getting into the Flow

The process is very odd. I was extremely nervous about being up there, and facing David Ripley. However, this time it was only the Judge, the Crown, and the Defense, and one person who came to support Ripley.

My mother and I were separated. I waited in a small room while she gave her testimony first, which I wasn’t allowed to hear. It was a nerve racking time in the room.

The process is for the attorneys to ask questions of the witness, whose replies are technically for the judge to hear. I was a bit of a low talker as well … I think they had to tell me that the microphone was not for amplification but for recording, so speak up. A lot of it was a blur though I was trying to make a conscious effort to be present.

I was nervous. Shaking and sweating. Even though my hands were shaking, I made a conscious effort to drink water. I brought a piece of sea glass with me and I think I wore it even smoother. (see the post re: the importance of the sea glass). I had to look out and see him, which made it easier to decide to reply to the judge and lawyers.

I remember reading the experience of the women called to testify at the trial of Jian Ghomeshi a few years after mine, and some of the similar procedures they were running up against. The questions and probing were personal and embarrassing. There is an “adversarial tenor” as McLean’s Magazine put it. It does feel like an attack, challenging one’s every behavior, thoughts, actions. The Defence will make it seem like you asked for it or it was your fault. It is their job.

On With the Show

There is a stark difference between what you would think will happen and what goes in in court. The best piece of advice which almost seems like it shouldn’t need to be repeated out loud: tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

And it is important to understand the balance of justice within that courtroom. If the roles were reversed and I was being accused of something, I would expect the right to a fair and balanced trial and that my lawyer would do whatever possible within the law to free me. In my role, I respected that, and expected some rough patches, but I also knew my truth. The lady holding the scales may roll her eyeballs, but does not ever lift her blindfold.

I took this to heart in the sense of thd “telling” part - it needed to be told, no matter how embarrassing, and everything had to come out. The truth part didn’t cross my mind ... this was all my truth and I had lived with it, and retold it in my head for 25 years, had it recorded and transcribed by police, and reviewed by Crown and Defense. To not tell the truth would have sacrificed my integrity, which is all I had left going into this.

I stumbled, when I misunderstood one question. The Defense asked if the night my mother sent him packing was the last I had contact with him. Thinking physical contact, I answered yes, that was the last, though I hadn’t seen him that night thanks to Super Mom, but essentially, that was the end.

But I did have contact with David Ripley - or someone at his business - but by email, years later, shortly before I called the police about the crimes. I had lashed out with a nasty message, almost a challenge. This was in the deposition transcripts.

The Defense pounced and waived the email I had sent, seemingly trying to undermine my credibility by painting me as a liar. I had to wait until the embarrassing rant ended, in order to explain. It seemed counter-intuitive that the Defense would point out that what I was doing with that email at that time was essentially reaching a breaking point - in both patience and courage - for reporting the crimes. Perhaps the embarrassment was misplaced.

In the end, again, as there are typically not any witnesses to these types of crimes, it seemed to come down to “he said/he said” and credibility. There is no room in the courtroom for signs of anger and frustration.

There are places for it, though, like the Victim Impact Statements, which also have their own set of purposes and guidelines. I submitted one, but chose not to read it aloud in court - I didn’t think I would get through it. I believe the judge still reads it for consideration, but you could verify this.

Wrapping Up

Even with that personal commitment to telling the truth, there are ways to get caught up. I resolved to answer any question that I knew I could answer. When I was unsure how to answer a question - like something I couldn’t interpret like, “Do you like blue or France?” - I turned to the judge to seek clarify, whether that was protocol or not.

Sometimes with the line of questions from the Defense and the Crown, you could sense the “end game”. But trying to second guess where things are going becomes a distraction and one might not be as clear as required. I found it was best to just let it all hang out and answer each question individually. There cannot be anything worse that could happen. Seriously.

To go back and talk to myself, I would remind myself it was important to breathe, stay on my own track, not anyone else’s, no matter how difficult the questioning or how tired you are, I took my time to listen, clarify if need be, and responded as my true self.

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