James Ray Trial Thoughts: What Kind of Person?
When I was a reporter, I loved covering the courthouse.
Because I reported in one of the richest counties in the country, there were a wide variety of storylines. I remember one day in family court, a very poor inner city couple was bitterly fighting over the terms of their 
divorce; how they would split up the husband’s $21,000 in annual earnings for their five children. Two cases later a well-to-do mother argued that her ex-husband violated the terms of their previously-filed divorce because he took their two children on vacation without adequate notification.
He took them to the south of France for a week.
Besides that variety, there were the characters: lawyers, judges and the honest to goodness people who earned their paycheck at the courthouse. I always wondered what kind of person, for example, became a public defender – to defend so many remorseless guilty people who lacked resources for their own defense. (One PD once told me “It’s for the kid who just gets caught being in the wrong place at the wrong time. To exonerate someone who deserves a second chance: that’s why I do what I do.”)
Because I had this experience, background and a basic working knowledge of how the system works, I was ready for the James Arthur Ray trial.
Or so I thought.
I’ve helped interested parties make sense of the unusual language of the legal system, filled in details of some testimony with research I had previously done, and kept in touch with reporters about the trial or who had questions about the victims. Surely this kind of work, I told myself, would keep me strong throughout the trial.
But I began having difficulty keeping it together a few days ago when someone (I honestly can’t remember who) testified that when paramedics took Kirby away, that Mr. Ray and his people claimed they had “no information” on Kirby. That they didn’t know who she was.
If you’ve ever met my cousin, or even read about her since this tragedy, you’ll know that she made an immediate impression on everyone. The girl with the quirky name had a dynamite smile, and an even better heart. If you met her for only 2 minutes, you would never forget Kirby Brown.
So knowing that some people affiliated with James Ray (and Mr. Ray himself) let her be a Jane Doe as she got into the ambulance tells me that after six full days – the last six days of our loved one’s life – they pretended to know nothing about Kirby Brown. Like I once wondered about public defenders, what kind of person does that?
My difficulty arose again late last week when Debbie Mercer, who assisted with the imitation sweat lodge ceremony, testified. She was a local volunteer who often assisted with Angel Valley retreat center events. She was positioned less than 5 feet from the door of Mr. Ray’s imitation sweat lodge ceremony. She gave strong testimony about some of the confusion, chaos, and ultimately silence late in the ceremony from within the tent. She also saw the horror of those who were pulled out, stumbled out, or suffered various physical and mental ailments as a result of the searing heat.
That testimony is consistent with others and did not alarm me; I guess I’m numb to much of the horror. But I found out a few minutes later, I was not.
Debbie Mercer testified to three other details: That before the 8th and final round, that someone called out that two people were down in the back of the tent (which I knew happened). And that after the ceremony, with so much confusion in what one witness described as “a war zone,” that James Ray took a seat on a chair in the shade and simply observed. After about 15 minutes of this chaos, Mercer said, she stuck her head in the lodge “because something told her to” – and she saw three people passed out inside, including Kirby Brown.
Those three pieces of testimony hit me so hard. James Ray knew Kirby Brown needed help. From the moment he knew, for the next 30 minutes, he did nothing to make sure she received any help (or anyone else; the people he now calls “his friends.”)
What kind of person does that?
There were some truly great people at this event. The list of people I owe a “thank you” to for trying to save my cousin, grows with almost every witness’s testimony. So knowing there was so much chaos happening after this ceremony tells me that truly good people were too distracted to take a look in the sweat lodge to make sure everyone was out.
And one man sat in the shade.
That idea made me cry.
I sat on my couch, listening to Debbie’s testimony, my head in my hands, quivering lips, tears running down my face.
My beautiful, knowing, loving girlfriend Rachel (who has watched so much of this trial with me), noticed and simply came over to me and held me. No words were exchanged. Just love and warmth.
I thought briefly how much Kirby would have loved Rachel and cried a bit harder knowing that could never happen.
But mostly I cried because three people lay motionless in a tent; one man sat in a chair.
What kind of person does that?
