Parkland deputy hopes jury clears him
Four minutes and 15 seconds. That’s how much time elapsed between Deputy Scot Peterson’s arrival outside the 1200 building of Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School and the last shots fired by homicidal gunman Nikolas Cruz on Valentine’s Day 2018.
Seven people were murdered in those four minutes and 15 seconds. Others were critically injured. While the shooting continued, Peterson, a 32-year veteran of the Broward Sheriff’s Office, took cover outside the nearby 700 building.
Prosecutors and the defense agree that one person is responsible for the 17 murders and attempted murders that took place that day — Nikolas Cruz, who is serving multiple life sentences.
But for what he did and failed to do in that short time fame, Peterson is facing trial for six counts of aggravated child neglect with great bodily injury, with the students who were slain and injured on the third floor as the victims.
His professional reputation hangs in the balance, as do his legacy, his pension and his freedom — will he be remembered as “the coward of Broward” who took cover instead of taking action and saving lives? Or will he be counted among the many law enforcement officers whose best were, tragically, no match for a determined mass murderer?
Jury selection in Peterson’s trial is scheduled to begin Wednesday. Peterson’s lawyer, Mark Eiglarsh, is convinced that once presented with the evidence, the jury will clear Peterson’s name.
In legal documents and official statements, prosecutors have laid out their case: Peterson arrived outside the east entrance of the 1200 building and heard shots coming from inside. Instead of racing into the building and confronting the shooter, he ran from the building and took cover
upset. You could tell that he wanted to interact with us,” Ehlenbach said. “So that’s something that’s really — that’s really stayed with me.”
“Is there any child in a facility who you believe is not medically appropriate to live in a community?” Lauren Latterell Powell, a Justice Department lawyer, asked Ehlenbach.
“No,” she replied.
“Is there any child living in a facility whose condition is such that a nursing facility provides them with the safest place to live?
“No.”
“All children with medical complexity who have access to the appropriate supports and services in the home and community can successfully and safely live with their — with families,” Ehlenbach testified later.
During cross-examination, an attorney for the state, John A. Boudet, suggested that Florida sometimes used nursing homes as a “bridge” between when children could be discharged from the hospital and then live safely with their parents. He asked whether Ehlenbach had reviewed the records of kids who were sent home.
“Many of them had been institutionalized for years and years,” Ehlenbach said, “which, to me, would be a pretty long bridge.”
Much of the trial’s testimony concerned the biggest roadblock on that bridge: the state’s profound lack of private duty nursing. Without adequate in-home care for children with breathing tubes, for example, many parents have no choice but to keep their kids institutionalized.
In his remarks, Middlebrooks said the state’s “critical failure to provide families with necessary private duty nursing was the most glaring problem.”
“And this was, of course, underscored by horrific stories I heard from a number of desperate parents about their personal experiences attempting to care for their medically fragile children under unthinkable conditions without adequate and reliable nursing help,” the judge said.
Middlebrooks suggested the nursing shortage was only an impediment if health administrators do nothing to fix it: “The state has certainly shown that there is a nursing shortage,” he said. “What I don’t think they have shown is that they can just then say, ‘Well, it’s a nursing shortage. We can’t do anything about it.’ ”
At the trial’s conclusion, Middlebrooks encouraged lawyers on both sides to negotiate toward a settlement that ends Florida’s institutionalization of children with severe medical needs. But he also wielded a stick in addition to the carrot: He said he likely will order the state to make real reforms if health administrators don’t agree to them first.
On Wednesday, lawyers for both sides filed a status report telling the judge they could not reach an agreement on how to remedy the state’s discrimination: “At this time, the parties do not reasonably anticipate reaching agreement on language that could be included in a permanent injunction or which would be a settlement.”
On May 19, Middlebrooks rejected the idea of his retaining jurisdiction over the case longterm and assigning a court monitor to oversee the state’s commitment toward reform. He said such arrangements often just kick the can down the road with little real progress.
“And so if we’re going to do something,” Middlebrooks said, “let’s do something that makes a difference.”
The judge said he was “committed to bringing this case to a close — to a conclusion without undue delay. I don’t want to contribute further to that 12-year delay.”
“I’m not interested in something that goes on for years, because all that does is prolong the problem that the parties have identified in this case,” the judge said. “In my opinion, this case has gone on long enough.”