“No Matthew, I don’t want to say it. Please don’t make me say it. Matthew Please, please, don’t make me say it.”
I was an Assistant State’s Attorney in Bridgeport, CT prosecuting a defendant for the sexual assault of an 11-year-old little girl. Her mother brought her to my office so that I could meet her and try to prepare her for the upcoming trial. She was such a beautiful, bright, intelligent and charismatic little girl. I introduced myself as Matt, and immediately she responded, “Nice to meet you Matthew.” She called me Matthew. No one calls me Matthew. She sat there so full of life, a sparkle in her eye, and a smile that could melt the grumpiest of overworked prosecutors.
"How are you Matthew?" she asked and I couldn’t help but smile.
"Just fine and you?" I said with a small smile on my face.
"Well, thank you,” she stated in her mature tone.
"Molly, do you know why you’re here?" I asked her.
"Yes, to talk about bad things....” she responded quietly hanging her head.
"Have you ever seen a courtroom before?"
"No Matthew.”
"Even on TV?"
"No.....”
"I’d like to take you upstairs and show you one." I held her hand as her mother followed and we took the elevator up one floor and walked into the courtroom. Her eyes were as wide as a Cheshire cat, and I could feel her little hand tightening and starting to pull away.
"Molly, it’s ok, don’t be afraid. I’m here with you," I told her. She didn’t reply. I knelt down and began to describe the courtroom to her.
"The judge sits in the front, up high in the big chair. The jury is on the left in those chairs over there. They’ll all be very nice people and will be listening to everything you say. And you, you’ll sit right there, next to the judge and I’ll be standing beside you."
"Will HE...Will HE be here?” her voice was trembling to get the words out.
"Yes honey, he’ll be sitting at the table right there," I said as I pointed to the defense table.
"I don’t want to see him....”
"I know honey, I don’t want you to see him either. But let’s see if you like sitting in the seat next to the judge."
As she sat in the chair I asked her basic questions, her name, address, her mom’s name, about her siblings, about her school and then the question I had to ask: "What happened with mommy’s boyfriend? Did mommy’s boyfriend touch you?"
She started cry... “No Matthew, I don’t want to say it. Please don’t make me say it. Matthew please, please, don’t make me say it.”
In 2003, I left the State’s Attorney’s Office and went to work for the National Football League. I ran a program focusing on aiding players with their off-field conduct. I’ve seen every professional football stadium in the United States and have given presentations to every NFL Team. I left the NFL to work for the NFL Players Association, the union that represents the players. I was even VP and General Counsel for the fledgling United Football League. I understand football, the culture surrounding the game, and the pressure to win; and winning at the professional level as well as the "big time" college level is the ONE and ONLY thing that matters. It brings hundreds of millions of dollars into your University; it insures a huge public profile that attracts students. For the coaches to be part of a winning juggernaut of a program, it insures their future in the coaching ranks and the ability to move possibly to the NFL. If you aspire to be a professional football coach, a head coach, there are only 32 opportunities and the competition is incredibly fierce. You rise and fall by not only your career achievements but also your network of coaches you surround yourself with. You stay on the good side of the high profile coach that can put the “word” in for you to get the next “big job” that comes around. You stay LOYAL and hopefully one day it pays of. The payoff, a professional coaching job, a six or seven figure salary, prestige, recognition, and hopefully success. Not many get to hold that Lombardi Trophy over their heads and hear the roar of the crowed as they’re announced as world champions. Nor do many at the college level get to run through that tunnel and look up at the sea of fans in their school colors cheering them in a national championship game. I’ve never played the game at that level but, what a feeling it was to help create a professional football league when no one said it could be done. Kick-off in Las Vegas, and crown a UFL champion. That was awesome! And for the coaches and administrators at Penn State, affectionately called “line backer U”, home of the nittany lions, have been gitty for years with the success of the program and the notoriety that JOE PA had brought them. So gitty in fact, they forgot what’s important.
That boyfriend pled guilty to sexually assaulting my little friend Molly. He admitted the horrible and unspeakable things he had done to her in open court without hesitation or remorse. She never had to come to court and speak the unspeakable. But, she did come back to my office one more time.
As she walked in, with the sparkle still in her eyes, she started with the Matthew again;
“Hello Matthew!” She made herself comfortable in the chair across from me, her mother by her side. Prior to coming to the office her mother talked to her and let her know that the boyfriend was in jail and would be there for a very long time. I’ll never for get what happened next...
“Matthew here’s a picture of me I want you to have.”
"Thank you Molly, I really appreciate it."
"Matthew?",
"Yes Molly?"
"Thank you for making the bad dreams go away."
To this very day, I’ve never had a football moment compare to that moment in my office with Molly; and the Cowards at Penn State clearly don’t understand that protecting a child’s innocence is far more rewarding than putting linebackers into the NFL.
From the Courtroom,
Matthew Couloute, Esq.
(comments and dialogue are always welcome)
