In which I finally see the woman who stole my car — in person
The wheels of justice, as they say, turn slowly. It’s been a year and a half since my car was stolen and found then stolen again and recovered again. Today I was finally able to sit in the back of a courtroom and hear my car thief plead “Guilty” to a felony and agree to a date for her sentencing hearing. Somehow, it didn’t really feel like a satisfying ending.
Entering the courthouse, I waited to go through security behind two unrelated women wearing walking casts (weird, right?) so it took forever until it was my turn to have my bags searched and walk through a metal detector. By the time I finally found the courtroom, I saw a woman sitting on a bench outside with a baby in a stroller… was that her? Or was she one of the women sitting together with a couple of kids? Or would she not even show up?
A woman from the DA’s office helped me find a seat in the back of the room, and I watched several cases come before the judge. A handcuffed man in prison scrubs pled guilty to something I couldn’t hear and was led back out of the room. Another man pled guilty to driving under the influence. A woman agreed she had not done her community service and asked for an extension. In all cases, the judge would ask questions and the defendant would say “Yes, Your Honor” or “Yes, sir” or “No, sir” looking down at their feet, sometimes mumbling so much they were asked to repeat themselves. It occurred to me that there was a power dynamic in play. One of these guys might have been the world’s biggest hothead asshole when he was sitting around with his pals bitching about the fucking police, but put him in a courtroom and he was meek and allowed the rules and conventions of the justice system to determine his behavior. That guy in handcuffs didn’t yell and rail against the system; he accepted his role in it and was quietly led back into custody. Maybe occasionally there are dramatic scenes in this courtroom, but the closest I saw was when the woman who hadn’t fulfilled her community service ended her testimony by saying enthusiastically to the judge “Have a great day!” and I couldn’t quite tell if it was sarcasm or natural friendliness.
I heard my car thief’s name, and when she stood to go stand in the front by her lawyer, I was shocked to see that she was the woman in a sparkly mask who had been sitting just a row away from me. In another situation, I might even have complimented her mask as I brushed by her finding my seat. She looked to be in her 20s, wearing a floral blouse and jeans, with several tattoos. When the judge asked if it was true she had been found in a stolen vehicle she said yes and when he asked how she wanted to plead she said the words “Guilty, sir.”
I’m still not 100% clear what transpired on August 13, 2020, when the police arrested her and she entered the system on the basis of being present with my car when it was recovered on the side of the highway. I do know that I was contacted last October by a Victim’s Advocate in the Clackamas County DA’s office who offered me a chance to testify in a Grand Jury hearing where they would determine the charges. I skyped in for it, but due to a shitty connection, I never got to say anything (and really, what was there to say? My car had been stolen from my driveway and returned to me as garbage. It wasn’t a particularly unique situation). Periodically, I would get another call or a letter about how she had missed a court date or had not shown up for a lawyer meeting and eventually, I forgot all about it.
This time was different…. According to the DA’s office, she had finally met with her legal counsel and accepted a plea deal. Since June, my advocate told me, she had been living in a treatment center with her baby and had been clean from all drugs and wanted to make a fresh start. The deal she had accepted was 5 days in jail plus 18 months supervised probation, and as soon as she had a guilty plea on the record, they would sentence her and she would go serve her (very short) sentence.
Initially the DA’s office had told me that after today’s hearing she would be taken into custody, but instead it was simply for setting a date for a future sentencing hearing. I walked out of the courtroom behind her and saw that the woman with the stroller had been waiting for her — I guess she was a friend watching her baby. The baby was tiny, a newborn. My car thief had apparently gotten pregnant, carried the baby to term, and given birth… all in the time since she had first been arrested. I knew she had other kids, and wondered whether they were all together in her rehab housing. I watched her lean over the stroller with her phone and snap a picture of her baby. The baby looked up at her with big eyes.
I said to the woman from the DA’s office “It would be weird if I talked to her, right?” She said firmly that it would be. It was clear that victims interacting with their criminals was just Not Done. I didn’t know what I would even say, but I sort of wanted her to know I was there, the actual person whose car she had lived in and whose life she had affected for the worse. But as I ran in my mind all the possible ways I could see an interaction going, they all seemed terrible. Rejected opening lines: “You fucking bitch you stole my car.” “Hi, you don’t know me, but I’m the person whose car you stole.” “So did you steal my car or did someone give it to you? Who actually stole it?” “Cute baby.” Nothing seemed quite right, and I walked out of the building and turned in the other direction.
I still feel really conflicted about the whole thing. I mean, obviously I am not conflicted about the fact that my car was stolen and totaled and that sucked and continues to suck. But I wish I lived in a world where people with drug addictions and young kids had a web of services to help keep them from stealing and living in cars. I wish I knew if she even actively stole the car or just passively took it when offered to her — and if that was the case, does she know who really did steal it? I wish it had come back to me in driveable condition and I still had it today. But instead of any of those wishes, I got a morning off from work and a walk around downtown Oregon City after court and one more goddamn Medium story about my stolen car.
If you’re just tuning in, don’t miss earlier episodes in The Car Saga: Part I, Part II, Part III, and Part IV.