Littwin: Video ultimate rebirthing for Candace
By Mike Littwin, Rocky Mountain News (Contact)
Published April 21, 2001 at midnight
GOLDEN -- The death video was the movie within the movie.
The death video told a story so horrifying that no one could have saved the "therapists" from their tragic roles.
The video allowed the little girl to come back to life for the jury. The jurors smiled when they saw her smile. They cried when they saw her cry. Some part of them died when they saw her die.
You didn't have to be a film critic to know how this one would end. This was not the misguided jury that failed to see through the cops to Rodney King. This was a lost little girl who, one juror said, "we came to love."
The video was the ultimate rebirthing for poor Candace Newmaker.
You watched the video and heard the cries and weren't sure how you managed not to look away. Even though you knew how the video would end, you couldn't possibly know how deeply it would move you.
The verdict was not just a slap at psycho psychotherapy and a clear message that you don't break children, no matter how troubled, like you break horses. The jury had more in mind than punishment for Connell Watkins and Julie Ponder.
The verdict was a group hug for Candace.
The verdict said that this troubled girl -- whose life was marked by abandonment, abuse and pain -- mattered.
The verdict was the real Candace's Law.
Diane Obbema, the sheriff's investigator who took a picture of Candace with her each day to court, smiled brightly when the verdict came. She would say later that it wasn't the "ignorance" of the so-called therapists that killed Candace but their "arrogance."
Candace had finally won something.
As I watched the video, though, I couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if Watkins hadn't filmed her sessions.
Some smart lawyer might have made the theories seem reasonable. No one would have heard Candace's desperate cries. No one would have seen Watkins and Ponder making small talk while the girl, unknown to them, was already dead beneath the sheet that would become a shroud.
High-minded doctors could have explained that a child with attachment disorder requires extreme measures. When Watkins' defenders took the stand to say she had saved their children, the jurors might have been tempted to listen.
Not after the video.
After seeing the video, the jurors had no choice. It didn't matter what had come before. It didn't matter if Watkins or Ponder had saved a thousand souls. After crying through the video, the jurors could vote only to convict.
The video was the beginning and end of the trial. When Candace said she couldn't breathe and the "therapists" replied, "OK, then die," there was no need to continue.
And yet, Watkins' testimony was nearly as damning as the video.
What I couldn't get over was how she kept blaming the child. Candace was manipulative, Watkins kept saying. She was a liar. She was mean to her mother. She couldn't be trusted.
If she said she was dying under that sheet, wasn't that just one more lie?
I kept waiting for Watkins to say that though, yes, it looked like breaking a horse, she was trying to save a bright little girl who had been done wrong by life. But she never said anything good about Candace.
What I heard was her talking about "these children" with attachment disorder. The disorder is real. The difficult life for desperate adoptive parents is real, too.
But the video told the greater truth.
Watkins kept telling the prosecutor that what he saw on the video was not what she saw. She kept telling the prosecutor, and by extension the jurors, not to believe their eyes.
The verdict said otherwise. Nobody was suggesting that Watkins and Ponder, who now face 16 to 48 years in prison, wanted Candace to die. But where was the remorse?
And anyone who watched Candace die knew also that there's a message here, and it must be heard.
They should take the video and show it to the legislature. They should take the video and show what can come of children seeing unlicensed psychotherapists. They should take the video and ask if a hairdresser needs a license, why not a psychotherapist who takes the lives of children in his hands?
Candace's Law, as passed by the legislature, doesn't even actually outlaw rebirthing, only rebirthing with restraints. There need to be restraints, all right -- restraints on unproven therapies used by unlicensed therapists on unsuspecting children.
Nobody wants a sequel.
Mike Littwin's column appears Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. Call him
at (303) 892-5428 or e-mail him at
littwinm@RockyMountainNews.com.
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