So, this guy gives a kid a hug in a Ukiah laundromat and real fast he's a certified cho-mo.
“Oh, come on,” you say. “There’s gotta be more to it than that!”
No, that’s all.
Mr. Grant Anderson, 53, 5'8" and 180 pounds, and not particularly menacing except to vigilant mothers, was arrested under Section 647.6(a) of the California Penal Code which reads: “(1) Every person who annoys or molests any child under 18 years of age shall be punished by a fine not exceeding five thousand dollars ($5,000), by imprisonment in a county jail not exceeding one year, or by both the fine and imprisonment.”
So, he hugs the kid, which would be annoying a child under the age of 18, and then at the County Jail, Mr. Anderson was discovered in possession of a newspaper story about little kids writing to Santa Claus. Thus, in the cold, cold eye of authority, Mr. Anderson had solidified his cho-mo credentials.
Deputy Public Defender Eric Rennert said he could have had the newspaper “evidence” thrown out, but he was never given the chance because Anderson fired him, choosing to represent himself.
The old maxim is that whoever hires himself as a lawyer has a fool for a client, a favorite of lawyers especially. But when the jury got a good look at the guy they were prepared to believe they were looking at a fool representing himself. Anderson, you see, has a very, uh — eccentric? unique? peculiar? —manner.
When word got out that he was going to defend himself last week, the bailiffs had already printed tickets for the show, and every seat was sold out — mostly to the courthouse staff and other lawyers — even a few judges stopped in to peep the show.
“At first, I thought he was developmentally disabled,” the child’s mother said.
“Strike that,” said Judge Ann Moorman. “The jury will disregard that last comment.”
You can’t call an eejit an idiot in the Nanny State, no matter how politically correct you dress it up with "developmentally disableds" and "learning handicapps." And you can’t deny an eejit his right to represent himself.
The mother, Misty Sharp — buttoned right up to the collar in snug sanctimony — was called as the first witness.
She'd gone to the laundromat on Orchard Street in Ukiah with her three kids, an infant and a toddler, both girls, and a six-year-old boy.
It was the boy who got hugged.
Ms. Sharp said the rogue hugger had made small-talk with her young son, and had rolled up some newspapers to make toy swords, and then he and her son had played at swordfighting for a time.
“Anything unusual about that?” Deputy DA Josh Rosenfeld asked.
“Well, he kept trying to reach over and pat my son on the head. Then he went out and got a beer, and came back in and sat on a washer.”
Ms. Sharp told her son to sit next to her and occupy himself with a hand-held video game. A e-.gadget is now a much more socially-acceptable diversion than imaginative physical activity.
“I didn’t want my son talking to him, but he reached over and shook my son’s foot, trying to make small talk.”
“What did you do, Ms. Sharp?”
“I pulled him close to me. I felt uncomfortable with the situation and wanted to get away, so I took my kids out to the car.”
Mr. Anderson followed them out, he said, to formally introduce himself and say good-bye. As Anderson bid his adieus, he picked the boy up and gave him what turned out to be the criminal hug.
“What did you do?”
“I grabbed him away from the defendant and when he, the defendant, Mr. Anderson, went back inside the laundromat. I went across the street to Home Depot to get my mother and call the police. When I came back, a woman with four young girls had entered the laundromat, and he was trying to engage them in a conversation.”
This, then, was the crime — the entire crime. And in due course, Mr. Anderson was convicted of it and must serve a year in jail and register for the rest of his life as a sex offender.
Anderson, acting as his own lawyer, began to cross-examine the woman who had besmirched his good name. “What do you do for a living, Ms. Sharp?”
Sharp: “I work with developmentally disabled adults.”
Anderson: “And you thought I was developmentally disabled?”
Rosenfeld for the prosecution: “Mr. Anderson, I won’t allow that.”
Anderson: “How many times were you interviewed by the police?’
Sharp: “Just once.”
Anderson: “Oh. Are you sure?”
Sharp: “Yes.”
Anderson: “Nobody came to interview your son?”
Sharp: “Just one, that one time?”
Anderson: “On November 22nd? … Okay, your honor. I’m going to have to get some more subpoenas out. I’ll have to get the whole police force in here to swear under oath they didn’t interview this woman more than once.”
Judge Anne Moorman: “I’m not going to allow that. You’ve had months to subpoena these people. Who do you want to testify?”
Anderson: “This officer she said she talked to. And whoever kept the records at the Ukiah Police Department.”
Rosenfeld: “The officer who did the interview is on vacation.”
Judge Moorman: “The officer is on vacation, Mr. Anderson. This should have been done months ago.”
Anderson: “They’re trying to hide him, to keep me from finding out how many interviews were made. I’ll have to subpoena all the records. It could take months, your honor.”
Judge Moorman: “I’m not going to allow that. Do you have any more questions for this witness?”
Anderson: “Okay, so again. I was talking to your child. Did you ask me to stay away?”
Sharp: “No.”
Anderson: “Did you feel physically threatened?”
Sharp: “My son… I felt I was protecting my son.”
Anderson: “Would it be fair to say he was having fun playing around? You say you were protecting your son, but he was having fun.”
Sharp: “I was uncomfortable with that.”
Anderson: “But wasn’t he having fun playing swords with rolled up newspapers?”
Sharp: “At first, yes.”
Anderson: “And when I walked out and introduced myself in good-faith, didn’t he tell me his name?”
Sharp: “No. I told you his name.”
Anderson: “Isn’t it true I sat him back down?”
Sharp: “No. I reached over and removed him from your arms.”
At which point Anderson was way outtaline. Ms. Sharp has to retrieve her kid from a total stranger? Borderline creepy, I'd say.
Anderson: “So, okay, again, did you have to ask me to leave?”
Sharp: “I immediately told you to release my son and let him go.”
Anderson: “Did you have an ulterior motive?”
Rosenfeld: “Objection.”
Judge Moorman: “Sustained.”
Anderson: “But, your honor…”
Judge Moorman: “Next question, Mr. Anderson.”
Anderson: “Is it fair to say neither you nor your child asked me to step away?”
Sharp: “My son asked me if we could leave. He wanted to get away from you.”
Anderson: “Was it fair to say he was having fun?”
Sharp: “Initially, he was.”
Anderson: “When I followed you out to the car, what was my intent?”
Sharp: “I have no idea.”
Anderson: “Well, what did I do?”
Sharp: “You introduced yourself, then picked up my son.”
Rosenfeld: “Did Mr. Anderson ever ask permission to play with your son?”
Sharp. “No.”
Rosenfeld: “Did he ever ask permission to pick him up?”
Sharp: “No.”
Rosenfeld: “Nothing further.”
The boy, Cadin, was called to the stand. Judge Moorman introduced herself, shook his hand and swore him in.
Anderson: “I don’t think Ms. Sharp was ever sworn in.”
Judge Moorman: “She was sworn in, Mr. Anderson.
Anderson: “I don’t think she ever was.”
Judge Moorman: “She was.”
Anderson: “Can I call her back and have her sworn in again?”
Judge Moorman: “No.”
Anderson: “Okay, lemme ask Cadin, then.”
Judge Moorman: “No, Mr. Anderson. I’ll ask the questions.”
Anderson: “I object. I have a right to confront witnesses.”
Judge Moorman: “Overruled. How old are you, Cadin?”
Cadin: “Seven.”
Judge: “Remember an incident at the laundromat with a man and having to talk to the police about it?”
Cadin: “Yes.”
Judge: “Do you see him here today?”
Cadin: “Yes.”
Judge: “Can you point him out?”
Cadin: “Over there in the blue shirt.”
Judge: “Let the record reflect that the witness has identified the defendant. Did he talk to you?”
Cadin: “Yes.”
Judge: “Did you ask him to?”
Cadin: “I forget.”
Judge: “Remember playing swords with him?”
Cadin: “Yes.”
Judge: “Did there come a time when you didn’t want to?”
Anderson: “Objection, you honor. You’re leading the witness,”
Judge: “Overruled.”
Cadin: “Yeah, then he came outside and picked me up.”
Judge: “Did you want him to?”
Cadin “Uhh… I don’t know.”
Judge: “So you were surprised?”
Anderson: “Objection. You’re putting words in the kid's mouth.”
Judge: “Overruled — er, sustained, actually. … [Back to Cadin] How did that make you feel?”
Cadin: “Uhh… kinda scared.”
Judge: “Did he rub your head?”
Cadin: “Yeah.”
Judge: “How did that make you feel?”
Cadin: “Kinda silly.”
Judge: “Did you tell the police what happened to you?”
Cadin: “Yeah, I told them he picked me up.”
Anderson: “Cadin, when we were in the laundromat, you were in a good mood, playing and stuff, weren’t you?”
Cadin: “Yeah, but I really didn’t like it that much.”
Anderson: “Where was your mom?”
Cadin: “Sitting on the chairs with my baby sisters.”
Anderson: “How many times did I touch you on the head?”
Cadin: “Only once.”
Anderson: “Were you happy?”
Cadin: “Kinda…”
Anderson: But you didn’t feel threatened — do you know what that means?”
Cadin: “Not really, but I was kinda happy… a little bit.”
Anderson: “Fair to say I picked you up and gave you a hug that lasted maybe five seconds?”
Cadin: “Yeah.”
Anderson: “What did your mom do then?”
Cadin: “She said, Could you please put my child down?”
Anderson: “What did I ask you after I sat you down?”
Cadin: “I don’t remember.”
Anderson: “Has your mom told you what to say?”
Judge: “Mr. Anderson” —
Anderson: “I’m interviewing the witness, your honor.”
Judge: “You are not interviewing him!”
Cadin: “No, she told me to tell the truth.”
Anderson: “Now, how many times have you been interviewed by law enforcement?”
Cadin: “I don’t know what that means.”
Anderson: “How many people did you talk to about this — how many times?”
Cadin: “One.”
Anderson: “So after I gave you a hug and sat you down, you didn’t say nothing?”
Rosenfeld: “That’s been asked and answered, your honor.”
Anderson: “No it hasn’t.”
Judge: “Did you tell this gentleman your name?”
Cadin: “I think my mom did.”
Anderson: “I have a right to get to the bottom of this.”
Judge: “The question has been asked and answered, Mr. Anderson.”
Anderson: “Ms. Sharp said I didn’t set him down, your honor, and I don’t think she ever got sworn in.”
Rosenfeld: “He misstates the testimony, your honor.”
Anderson: “How did I sit you down?”
Cadin: “Kinda gentle-like.”
Anderson: “I want to put Ms. Sharp back on the stand!”
Judge: “You’re not going to be allowed to do that, Mr. Anderson. The witnesses have stated the facts to the best of their ability to remember them.”
Anderson: “Why did I sit you down, Cadin?”
Cadin: “Because my mom said, Could please set my son down.”
Judge: “Thank you, Cadin, you’re free to go.”
Anderson: “I may want to ask him some more questions.”
Judge: “You won’t be allowed to, Mr. Anderson. The witness has been released.”
While the jury went to lunch, the court considered admitting new evidence: Corrections Officer Zaied had found “contraband” in Mr. Anderson’s cell at the jail. It was that newspaper clipping of some first graders — smiling faces, letters to Santa, that kind of thing. Deputy DA Rosenfeld wanted it admitted into evidence to show the jury how perverse the defendant really was. Mr. Anderson didn’t even know why it had been taken from him.
“It was clipped from a newspaper that was there at the jail for everybody,” Officer Zaied explained.
* * *
The lawyer Mr. Anderson had fired, Eric Rennert of the Public Defender's Office, had come to watch some of the action:
McEwen: “Hey, Eric. I’ve heard you hold the Courtroom A record on motions to suppress evidence. Is that right?”
Rennert: “No, but I think I’ve filed the most.”
McEwen: “So you think you could have got the news-clips suppressed?”
Rennert: “Hey, c’mon. The pictures were of no probative value. Homer Simpson could have got ‘em suppressed. Judge Moorman — and this surprises me — never should have allowed ‘em. Anderson fired me, but he just didn’t know the magic words or those clips would never have been shown to the jury.”
* * *
Anderson resumed questioning the jailer: “Now, Officer Zaied, you are familiar with the fact that I am representing myself at trial here, are you not?”
Zaied: “Yes, that’s my understanding.”
Anderson: “And you took my newspaper clipping, but are you aware of other guards taking my legal envelopes?”
Zaied: “I’m aware there have been other searches and seizures, yes.”
Anderson: “Who ordered you to confiscate my legal mail?”
Rosenfeld: “Objection! Lack of foundation, your honor.”
Judge: “Mr. Anderson, there’s no foundation for that accusatory question.”
Anderson: “Are you instructed to confiscate my legal envelopes?”
Rosenfeld: “Objection. Relevance.”
Judge: “Mr. Anderson, your questions are not relevant.”
Anderson: “Your honor, they’re taking my mail, the things I need for this case. I am being subjected to political persecution and it is relevant.”
Judge Moorman: “Mr. Anderson, we are not going to get into political persecution issues. I disagree that there is any relevance and the jury will disregard the foregoing. I won’t allow any comment on political persecution or questions about your mail.”
Anderson: “Is it fair to say, Officer Zaied, that you’ve confiscated my legal mail?”
Judge: “Mr. Anderson! I just told you! Now, ask your next question.”
Anderson: “I’m gonna have to subpoena all the people over at the jail to find out what has happened to my legal mail. This may take a while, your honor.”
Judge: “I’m not going to allow that, Mr. Anderson.”
Anderson: “I have my rights.”
Judge: “You do, but you should have had these subpoenas out before.”
Anderson: “I’ll send them out right now.”
Judge: “No, you won’t. Mr. Rosenfeld. What do you have on for the afternoon?”
Rosenfeld: “The video of the interview at the laundromat by Officer Long. I’ve redacted the parts where Mr. Anderson refers to his previous convictions for DUI.”
Anderson: “Objection, your honor. I don’t want him tampering with the video.”
Rosenfeld: “Just trying to protect your rights, Mr. Anderson.”
Anderson: “Don’t worry about me, sonny. You just take care of yourself. I’ll be two steps ahead of you. Your honor, I want these videos shown without this guy taking things out. He doesn’t get to pick and choose what goes in and what stays out.”
Judge: “So you want the whole thing played?”
Anderson: “I’m gonna have to get some more subpoenas out, the technical people who have worked on this, and everybody involved. I want all the court clerks, bailiffs, everybody.”
Judge: “I’m not going to allow that, Mr. Anderson. You have an obligation to supply a list of witnesses to the prosecution. Have you received a list with these names on it, Mr. Rosenfeld.”
Rosenfeld: “I have received nothing, your honor.”
Anderson: “I also want to subpoena the editor of the Ukiah Daily Journal and Dr. Kelly, who decided to I wasn’t too crazy to stand trial, and the clerks from the Administration Office of the Courts, and maybe some others.”
Judge: “I’m not going to allow that.”
Anderson: “I want to put them all under oath, your honor. You should get rid of them if you’re so ashamed of them. I want to put this guy [Deputy DA Josh Rosenfeld] on the stand, too," Anderson said gesturing toward Rosenfeld.
Judge Moorman: “I’m not going to allow that.
The video was played. It showed the Ukiah cops confronting Anderson at the laundromat. He seemed harmlessly nutty on the video until he realized they were going to arrest him for child molestation, then he went ballistic and started making violent threats. Not having this tirade cut out of the video, which any competent lawyer could have managed, probably sent the jury over the edge. They came back after a short deliberation — maybe an hour — with the guilty verdict.
There was some danger that Anderson would blow up again as the jurors filed out, but all he said was, “You’re gonna make me register as a sex offender for hugging a kid?”
Some of them laughed, but mostly they hurried off, glad it was over.
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