Runaway Justice: Making Cold Feet and Bad Judgment a Crime

If you’ve followed this blog you may recall that I am a resident of Gwinnett County, Georgia, home of the 2005 heroine (Ashley Smith of the courtroom murder drama) and the female villain (Jennifer Wilbanks, the runaway bride).

I also posted last week about my experience as jury foreman in a criminal trial here in Gwinnett.
I am disgusted that the district attorney forced and a grand jury bit on a two-count indictment yesterday against Wilbanks, with the potential for seven years in prison if convicted.
Oh to be on the jury for the Jennifer Wilbanks trial.

This is an absolute travesty of justice based on public anger at Wilbanks for wasting their time and costing the citizens of Gwinnett some money. This is nothing about the law. At the very worst this should be a civil case to try to recover some of the money spent looking for Wilbanks.
The only folks that would have a potential case against Wilbanks would be the police in New Mexico. She lied to them and caused them to take some action. But they were smart enough to recognize that this was not a criminal at work, but a messed up young woman who needed to go home and get help.

As her story to the Albuquerque police was about to unravel, Wilbanks called the police here in Gwinnett County and related her false story of abduction. But she—-and the fictional perpetrators—-were in New Mexico, not Georgia.

No Gwinnett police officer had to leave a Dunkin Donuts; no district attorney had to leave the golf course. At that point no public employee had to do anything but take a phone message.
And they’ve indicted this space cadet for a felony.

A lot of people are mad at Wilbanks for fooling them, and for costing Duluth, Georgia $40,000. But the call she made to police at the end of the saga didn’t cost anyone anything.

Leave her alone. Let her get help. This has become the case of runaway justice. What an embarassment.

UPDATE: It gets worse. I just read the article on this in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution and was reminded that Wilbanks did not call the Duluth police. She called home (or her fiance's home) and while she was on the phone, the Duluth police chief rushed to the house and got on an extension. That's how he got the false report, with which he could do nothing! Sham indictment.

--James Jewell