Judge Gerry Esposito

The last time I saw Judge Gerry Esposito he was presiding in Juvenile Court in Torrington, a hard-scrabble, hard-luck city in the Northern part of Connecticut.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye. I rarely appear in juvenile court.

"It's a sex case, judge," I said.

The judge's good sense prevailed and the client was spared a criminal record as a result of the judge's wisdom in brokering a plea. I regretted that, in a way. Time spent with Judge Esposito is always time well spent. I would have enjoyed trying a case with him on the bench.

"I'll catch you on the next one," I said, seeing him in the hall on the way out of court.

There will be no next one. Gerry Esposito died the other day. I just learned of it now.

He seemed to be the picture of health. In his late 50s, he was trim, filled with energy and a positive attitude. A former prosecutor, the man managed to fill tough roles without creating enemies. He had a gift for putting people at ease.

His death does not shock. He lingered on death's door for a spell. Not long ago, he went out for a jog. Later in the day, he collapsed. I am told it was a massive coronary: the trauma destroyed those parts of him that permitted him to express his love and generosity. A few days ago, he was removed from life support. It would have taken a miracle to restore him, and no miracle came.

His wake will be tomorrow night and I expect lawyers and judges from around the state to come to share memories of a good man gone too soon. I'd like to believe there was a larger rhythm accounting for his death, that somehow there was a plan that yielded a happy, or even a meaningful ending. But I know better.

Gerry Esposito's coffin will be silent tomorrow, and that is hard to imagine. As those of us who came to love him pay him our respect and show our love, there will be the shuffling sorts of noise grief-struck people make when the gods strike. I want to go to this wake and look at the man one last time. I want to go and thank him for his genoristy, his kindness and his ability to find the good even in the most terrible of places, a court.

I know he can't hear me now, at least I believe that. But I want him to know that despite the roles we adopted in our professional lives, I always looked at him with admiration and a sort of envy. He had the sort of way about him that made other comfortable. Thank you, Gerry. Thank you, and, somehow, farewell.

Comments: (1)

  • Judge Esposito had a gift for putting people 'at e...
    Judge Esposito had a gift for putting people 'at ease'. You said it twice, and so it must be true. It sounds as if I would like to have known Mr. Esposito as well, instead of the crumb-bums in robes who pass for judges in other parts of the state. Why is it that bad things happen to good people? Inquiring Minds want to know the answer to this eternally unanswerable question.
    Which leads me to the following observation: If Judge Esposito was such an easygoing, enlightened judge in CT, what does that leave those of us who draw a short stick upon entering the courthouse? And why should my life be destroyed because the luck of the draw rendered me an angry, out-of-control judge going thru menopause and a dyslexic dracula-lady for a prosecutor?
    Why the uneven quality of judges and prosecutors across the state? And hence the uneven quality of 'justice'? And why cannot the more competent members of the judiciary do something about the less competent? I have heard that in Mass., poorly performing judges are put on probation and go school for remedial help themselves when they routinely fall down on the job. I do not know if that is absolutely true. Maybe someone can verify. A good idea anyhow.
    I note in passing that Judge Esposito was only 57 upon death. These days, that is relatively young. I would like to remind everyone that when I was 58 years old, the Corrupt State of Konnecticut brought me--with no prior criminals--into the criminal court for prosecution of 13 bogus criminal charges and 69 years prison over two informations where absolutely no crimes were committed by me. The State knew this full-well and proceeded anyway with a full-blown, two-week, kangaroo jury trial. The State lost Big Time. In Nov. 02, I handed back to the State eleven of the charges by dismissal and jury verdict, including nine felony. The State lost a big one. Precious resources were squandered on a malicious prosecution of the highest order. Why are there no heads rolling?
    The State refuses to acknowledge or correct multiple errors, including repeated violations of my Bill of Rights guaranteed under the U.S. Constitution. How does the State get to bring me to trial, clearly outside the 'statute of limitations'? Inquiring Minds want answers to these perplexing questions, long after the fact
    Confidential informants (see story below) were part of my prosecutions. Of course the informants were never presented to the Court, and the judge and jury knew nothing of them. The use of confidential informants by cities and states is absolutely an un-Constitutional means of railroading citizens designated undesirable into lengthy prison sentences. This outrage in the judiciary has reached epidemic proportions, in my opinion.
    Crimes were committed against me by the State. The State is running a criminal enterprise in the form of a criminal 'justice' system, in violation of Racketeering Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act, RICO, 1963-69. The Judiciary Committee chairmen refuse my calls, and U.S. Dept. of Justice thus far refuses to answer my correspondence.
    Sen. Kerry's office is however talking to me.
    Posted on January 11, 2010 at 1:21 am by William Doriss

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