He enters the courtroom every day wearing a sport jacket and khakis, walking in a man-boy gait reminiscent of the pubescent Matthew Broderick. Gone is the bushy hair from his lacrosse days at U. Virginia, replaced by a more calculated short haircut, replete with cowlick.
For the first four days of his murder trial he sat between his two attorneys in a chair with a seat a few inches lower than theirs, making him look shorter and less imposing. Last Friday that suddenly changed, and, since then, his chair has been identical to those of his counsel.
He is a product of the college sub-culture which Tom Wolfe so vividly captured in his 2004 novel, “I Am Charlotte Simmons.”
During two full days of jury selection, he unflinchingly listened to multiple prospective jurors admit to having already formed an opinion of his guilt which would prevent them from being impartial. His hollow stare straight ahead never changed.
Since his open display of emotion in court last Friday while listening to his police interview six hours after Yeardley Love’s body was found, he appears slightly more animated, making eye contact, even chatting with the deputy stationed a few feet behind him.
But when former lacrosse teammates take the witness stand to testify to his heavy drinking and his mutually dysfunctional relationship with Love, he remains impassive, not meeting their eyes and thus avoiding the hate-filled looks one or two of them have thrown his way.
Whatever verdict this rather well-educated Charlottesville jury renders, perhaps as soon as tomorrow, his life is ruined, and his name, George Huguely, will be forever infamous.
It doesn’t matter that he probably won’t be convicted of first-degree murder. Based on the evidence we’ve heard in the courtroom, a lesser verdict of guilt seems likely … and just.
Given the extent of Huguely’s inebriation that night, it’s questionable he would even have been able to form rational intent. At the other end of the spectrum, a “not guilty” verdict seems even more unlikely; in its opening statement to jurors, the defense suggested it would be content with a conviction of involuntary manslaughter.
Were this a football game, it would be one that’s played “between the twenties.” The end zone probably won’t come into play. It’s a matter of finding the legal definition which fits the crime. And no one should feel Huguely is getting away with anything if he is convicted of second-degree murder or voluntary manslaughter. Justice will have been served.
Having sensed a strong Madame Defarge guillotine sensibility in town and at the University during the past two weeks, this is vital for everyone to understand when the verdict is announced. A lesser degree of guilt doesn’t in any way fail to acknowledge the heinousness of the crime.
Huguely’s recall of what transpired in Love’s bedroom after he kicked in the door, as he related in his police interview, is quite possibly true. But it is equally likely he was in a partial alcoholic blackout, and simply doesn’t remember how out of control it got.
Even though Love was hardly the innocent, underprivileged rural waif that Wolfe’s eponymous protagonist was at the beginning of his novel, it was the Charlotte Simmons culture which fomented the circumstances which led to her death.
A few members of the University community have shared with me during the past two weeks how upset they are that this culture has become the public face of the University in the wake of the national media attention focused on this case. As one student said, “We’re so much more than that.”
And she was right. It wasn’t always that way, though, if one reflects back several decades ago to when the University was generally and accurately known as a fraternal-elitist party school. Particularly as a result of the twenty years of John Casteen’s transformative leadership, this element of the University has been reduced to a minor sub-culture, and the University has indeed become “so much more than that.”
Even in this trial, the University has put its best foot forward. Three of the key legal players – Commonwealth’s Attorney Dave Chapman, defense attorney Rhonda Quagliana, and judge Ted Hogshire – each holds not one, but two degrees from the University. And they are each contributing to the judicial system functioning in this case as it was designed to, not in the distorted circus fashion of many previous high-profile trials.
Chapman was early-on dubbed by a member of the press corps as the “Mr. Rogers of prosecutors” — something which never would have been said of his Cheney-esque predecessor, John Camblos — but that description may no longer fit following his aggressive cross-examination of a neuropathologist the defense put on the stand late Wednesday.
Quagliana, in her even-mannered competence, belies the stereotype of criminal defense attorneys, and Hogshire runs the courtroom with a casual dignity and without the slightest hint of pomposity.
The numerous expert witnesses from the Medical Center, as well as the jurors who have University affiliations, also put a face on the University in which it can take much pride. For sure, no member of the press is leaving the courtroom with a negative overall view of the University simply because George Huguely passed through and left a horrific mark.
The issues that this case raises for ongoing discussion are many, and hopefully won’t be brushed aside by the University community once a verdict is reached. Sadly, there is no way of preventing all future acts of emotional and substance-driven violence in a free society. But, once the focus can shift from Huguely’s fate, if a concerted effort isn’t made to learn and grow from the tragedy of Yeardley Love, then we diminish ourselves as well as her educative legacy.