Assistant District Attorney Tim Stoen emailed me a list of what would likely happen at the September 11th (!) hearing -- the defense would move for juror questionnaires to be be released based on possible juror misconduct (mine), but he felt sure that wouldn't go anywhere.
The day before the hearing, the Red Giant dropped a sheaf of papers by my office and said it had been his paper's court correspondent who had leaked our connection to the DA, who was then obligated to inform the defense. It made sense that Don would have assumed we were married: He and the Red Giant have in common a background in fundamentalist Christianity -- he's a minister, and my honey has fallen away. So of course the assumption would be that the Red Giant would never live in sin...
On the day of that hearing I was on my way to Ashland, Oregon, for an annual weekend family reunion and a surfeit of Shakespeare.
When I returned, the Red Giant sent an email saying that he and I and our relationship were written up in the Anderson Valley Advertiser, more or less accurately, he said.
The Anderson Valley is home to Booneville, a linguistic fascination that during the late 1800s had its own language. It could be described as isolated. The Anderson Valley Advertiser cannot really be described as a journalistic endeavor, although it takes the form of a weekly newspaper. The flamboyant editor is prone to emotional screeds full of character assassination and guilt by association and implication. I was not hopeful that the story would be remotely accurate.
But, it was submitted by the same Humboldt County reporter who did the good summary referenced earlier. It named both of us and described what I had said to the investigator almost verbatim. Hmmm. Well, I wasn't too worried. Yet.
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