Some forty-five years later, I am not sure why the University of Massachusetts was being sued in the Superior Court in Northampton. My diary notes make no specific reference, but they do include details about my observations of that day in court. I have found them interesting enough to include here.
One is first impressed with the ramshackle nature of the Court, itself – something out of a movie set. The hard benches for the visitors, the old-fashioned, hanging, ball chandeliers and carpeting of the court area, the high bench with bookshelves behind, the formality of the warder (or whoever the guy in dress suit and brown vest is.) Then comes the informal banter of the lawyers, particularly Richard Howland representing the student, Dinsmore, whom he never addresses. In fact, it appears that Howland is not really interested in his client at all – although he might be interested in the concept of whether records under Federal closure are or are not open to the public.
Finally, the judge does enter and, indeed, the court does rise while the oyez is intoned – really intoned! The formality of the ceremonial I find to be very interesting. No, I am not bored; the observations are all new. It’s impossible to hear what is being said most of the time. Thus, I depend on sights and feelings.
The first case is the arraignment of a man – short, thin, greying hair, youngish pinched face behind steel-rim glasses, blue pinstripe suit. Ceremoniously plunked down on a straight-back chair in front of the bar separating the visitors from the red-carpeted court itself. The charges are read – a series of alleged rapes of a young girl over the last two years. To each charge he quietly responds “not guilty” as his bearded lawyer stands nearby. A strange performance. But stranger yet is the bulky, uniformed attendant, who whispers information to me, since I have the aisle seat, to relay to Ken Johnson, (the UMA treasurer sitting next to me.) It appears that the hearing is to lower the man’s bail. But more strangely, the girl whom he supposedly raped is his eight-year-old stepdaughter. Now here is an item for a story. If true, what would drive a man, even the diminutive homunculus here, to rape an eight-year-old? Who finally brought charges? The wife? A neighbor? And who would bear witness? The bail is not lowered; the case is to be continued; and the man returned to custody – led away by two towering deputies. His head is on his chest; he shuffles out. Blue suit and white socks on a counterman from a third-class diner.
The second case, a man in a green work-shirt and pants – with a black tie recovered later by one of the policemen in attendance. (Must you wear a tie in court?) Tall, rawboned, poxed face – a service-station man of the 1950’s – not today’s who have long hair and are younger. His charge is possession of a stolen car. But his case is dropped. The swallowed acoustics prevent my knowing why. He turns from the bar and is guided out, having yielded up the black tie, with red, bony hands grasping each other. No smile, but a half-hidden expression of relief.
The third case is “Dinsmore vs. Johnson.” The lawyers, Howland, Myers and Brown – from the State Attorney’s General Office are asked to approach the bench. The acoustics once again turn everything into a record at the wrong, slow speed. You know there are words, but there is no meaning. Finally, it’s announced that the judge wants the facts and would, on their basis, give a legal interpretation. But this would come only after a recess.
The recess time I spend chatting with Jack De Nyse (the University’s business manager) and Betsy Egan, of all people. (She is the realtor who sold us our house.) She is to be a witness in a case on a defaulted house sale. You find all sorts of people in court.
Howland then thanks me for obeying the summons and says we can leave. No witnesses are to be called. Written briefs will be presented for the two sides. And so back to the office.
In the mid-seventies when this trial occurred, there was beginning to be an interest in what the federal government might be supporting within universities in the matter of “military” research. It was possible that the “student, Dinsmore” was concerned about research with funds from DARPA, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. UMA received minimal support from this agency; I must have been called because of my responsibilities for research grants. DARPA has been credited with the creation of the “Internet.”