PASSAGE OF THE DAY: "On the last day of class, Griffin outfitted two rooms with butcher paper, which he spattered with blood. Then he asked us to reconstruct the imaginary homicides that had taken place there, using the bloodstains as our guide. The two law enforcement officers I worked with—each highly experienced criminal investigators—spent more than an hour studying each crime scene and deducing what had happened. Only one of their theories, however, turned out to be right. This highlighted the most troubling aspect of bloodstain pattern analysis—how open to interpretation each set of bloodstains is. In the real world, no one would be there to correct them if they came up with the wrong theory of the case."
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Dispatch 4: Hi everyone, I wanted to tell you a little bit about how I earned this:
Last year, as I was researching bloodstain pattern analysis, I saw that registration was open for weeklong courses in the subject. These classes are typically taken by police officers and crime lab technicians, not reporters, at police departments around the country. The next course was to be held in Yukon, Oklahoma, and I immediately thought: I have to take this class. It was the only way, I figured, that I could really understand how law enforcement officers are trained to interpret bloodstains. By then, I had already read the 402-page textbook, “Bloodstain Pattern Analysis With an Introduction to Crime Scene Reconstruction,” by Tom Bevel and Ross Gardner. And I had a lot of questions. The weeklong class was offered by Bevel and Gardner’s consulting firm. What better way to understand bloodstain pattern analysis—and possibly Joe Bryan’s case? Bevel himself had taught the weeklong class in 1985 that Robert Thorman, the bloodstain pattern analyst who testified in Joe’s trials, had taken. That 40-hour class comprised the totality of Thorman’s training in bloodstain interpretation at that time. I emailed Bevel, Gardner & Associates and explained that I was a reporter at ProPublica who covered criminal justice and that I was interested in learning more about bloodstain pattern analysis. I received an encouraging reply in which one of the firm’s employees explained that the classes were not limited to law enforcement and that I was welcome to enroll. So I put the $655 course fee on my ProPublica credit card, and I was in. On that first day of class, which was held at the Yukon Police Department, we were asked to go around the room and introduce ourselves, and I explained that I was a reporter. I worried that this fact would be distracting, but no one dwelled on it or asked me more. Instead, we turned to the course’s curriculum and the documents arranged before us, including a copy of Bevel and Gardner’s book, as well as my course binder. I was taken aback by the binder’s cover, which featured a photo of a woman’s manicured hand—gone limp and dripping with blood—dangling above a glass of pink champagne, a single red rose, and more blood. It didn’t look particularly scientific. Over the next five days, my classmates and I listened to lectures about bloodstain pattern analysis, conducted experiments with human blood, and studied for our final exam. Tom Griffin, our instructor, was a cheerful presence, always wearing a Bevel, Gardner & Associates shirt that bore the firm’s insignia: a single, oval bloodstain. A former criminal investigator, Griffin never explained the provenance of the blood we worked with, except to say that it was disease-free. Griffin devoted less than five minutes of our weeklong course to discussing a groundbreaking 2009 National Academy of Sciences report called “Strengthening Forensic Science in the United States: A Path Forward.” The report had found that many forensic disciplines—including bloodstain pattern analysis—were far less scientific than they purported to be. It had rocked the forensics world when it was published nearly a decade ago, calling into question the integrity of numerous disciplines. But Griffin never explained the disquieting questions that the report raised about bloodstain interpretation. Instead, he dismissed the report as a one-sided polemic penned by “lawyers and academics.” Griffin also told us how we could gain admittance to the International Association of Bloodstain Pattern Analysts, the field’s preeminent organization. To become provisional members, all we had to do was complete the weeklong class and obtain a recommendation from Griffin, which he offered to any of us who were interested. IABPA membership is a credential that judges look upon favorably when trying to determine if a law enforcement officer should be allowed to testify as an expert witness. I was startled to hear how easy it was to join. If you’ve finished Part II of my story, then you’ve read much more about my week in Yukon. Let me just say that when I embarked on reporting this story, I never imagined I would have to swing an axe covered in human blood through the air. But that is exactly what I did one day when two classmates, both investigators, and I had to recreate various “cast-off patterns,” the bloodstains that result when a moving object casts off blood. To create these patterns, we used a knife, a hatchet, some PVC pipe, and finally an axe. I got the job of swinging the axe at an imaginary victim. (“Imagine your ex-boyfriend!” cried one investigator.) On the last day of class, Griffin outfitted two rooms with butcher paper, which he spattered with blood. Then he asked us to reconstruct the imaginary homicides that had taken place there, using the bloodstains as our guide. The two law enforcement officers I worked with—each highly experienced criminal investigators—spent more than an hour studying each crime scene and deducing what had happened. Only one of their theories, however, turned out to be right. This highlighted the most troubling aspect of bloodstain pattern analysis—how open to interpretation each set of bloodstains is. In the real world, no one would be there to correct them if they came up with the wrong theory of the case. When I was handed my certificate of training that afternoon, I realized that I had the same amount of experience in bloodstain pattern analysis that Robert Thorman had at the time of Joe’s trials. I did not feel remotely ready, however, to testify as an expert witness. Griffin had told us throughout the week that we would not be experts. Yet I knew that law enforcement officers around the country had testified in criminal cases after taking no more than a 40-hour class. Take a moment and think about that. Next time, I’ll tell you about the people who have been working for many years to help Joe Bryan." Pamela.
The entire dispatch can be read at the link below:
https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?tab=wm#inbox/164195f88999a092
PUBLISHER'S NOTE: I am monitoring this case/issue. Keep your eye on the Charles Smith Blog for reports on developments. The Toronto Star, my previous employer for more than twenty incredible years, has put considerable effort into exposing the harm caused by Dr. Charles Smith and his protectors - and into pushing for reform of Ontario's forensic pediatric pathology system. The Star has a "topic" section which focuses on recent stories related to Dr. Charles Smith. It can be found at: http://www.thestar.com/topic/c
