Authors: John Glatt
The next day, the three first responders to 2207 Seymour Avenue spoke publicly about it for the first time at a special ceremony at the Cleveland Police Patrolmen’s Association headquarters. Police officer Barbara Johnson said that after getting the initial call that Amanda Berry had been found, she prayed it was not another hoax. She became emotional as she described going upstairs and Michelle Knight running into her arms.
“Michelle hugged me first,” said Johnson, “then clutched me and said, ‘Don’t let me go!’ You can’t really describe how I felt … it rips the heart out of my chest.”
Following the rescue, Johnson spent the next six hours with the victims at MetroHealth Medical Center, comforting them. She said no amount of police training could have prepared her for this, and she can’t get it out of her mind.
Officer Anthony Espada said he too was haunted by that day.
“I’ve broken down [crying] a few times … in private since then,” he said. “Those three girls are my heroes … after what [they] went through in that house all those years.”
On Friday afternoon, as the Cleveland Courage Fund hit the $500,000 mark, Ariel Castro’s mother, Lillian Rodriguez, and sister Marisol Alicea Castro visited Inmate C29. Later that day two reporters arrived from New York but were turned away.
“Ariel Castro was emphatic that he did not want to meet with any news person,” wrote one of his guards in a report.
Cuyahoga County Jail logs also showed that Castro periodically cleaned his cell, and thanked the guards who bought him breakfast. Every morning he was allowed out into the pod for twenty minutes under close supervision, while his cell was searched. Then he would be returned to his cell and locked up for the rest of the day.
Soon after his arrest, the Castro family met to discuss how to proceed.
“We had a family meeting,” said Maria Montes, “and talked about it. We’ve all tried to remain vigilant of the fact that he does still have a mother … and siblings who at one point loved him and were fooled. Obviously this has to be hurting them.”
At the meeting, it was decided that Ariel Castro, Jr.,—who was now using his middle name Anthony—would be the Castro family spokesman. From now on all media requests would officially go through him, although his uncle Cesi Castro would give the occasional interview.
The Cleveland abductions was now a huge story worldwide, and hundreds of media requests were pouring into Hennes Paynter Communications, all vying for interviews with the victims.
“They’re looking for the ‘get’ right now,” explained founder Bruce Hennes. “There’s a worldwide scramble. They want the picture, the interview. This is
the
hottest news.”
Hennes said that so far no one at his PR company had spoken to the three women, and everything was being handled by their attorneys at Jones Day. The main priority was not to compromise the criminal case against Ariel Castro.
“That’s why the women are not speaking publicly,” he explained. “At this point, our only role is to compile a list of media people who are interested in interviewing them. At the appropriate time the women will make their own decisions about whom they want to talk to and when.”
On Tuesday, May 21—two weeks after their escape—the Cleveland Courage Fund had raised more than $650,000, from more than five thousand donors. To mark the occasion, Hennes Paynter Communications released a special message from the three women to all their supporters.
AMANDA, GINA & MICHELLE OFFER THANKS TO COMMUNITY
We are the attorneys who have come together to help Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus and Michelle Knight. These three brave women have asked us to give this message to everyone who has expressed concern and support. Amanda, Gina and Michelle want you to know they are doing well. They are happy and safe and continue to heal, a process that requires time and privacy.
Since we first spoke publicly on their behalf, it has been wonderful to see that their plea for privacy has been answered and respected. The media has disappeared from their front lawns and their neighborhoods are no longer experiencing traffic jams from news vehicles and curious onlookers. You have no idea how much this means to them and has helped in their recovery process.
Their first public message included a simple, heartfelt thanks to well-wishers and supporters for “Everything you are doing.” That “everything” now includes perhaps the greatest gift of all—the space and time to reconnect with their families and recover and rebuild their lives. And so they say again, “Thank you. Thank you so much!”
We continue to receive numerous generous offers to support Amanda, Gina and Michelle and their families. The outpouring of public support has been nothing short of remarkable.
To have complete strangers offer loving support in the form of money, goods and services, reaching out to help like a family member, is appreciated in ways that are impossible to put into words. Amanda, Gina and Michelle, who have asked for nothing, are frankly overwhelmed by it all.
You have touched their hearts in ways they will never forget. So again, they collectively say “Thank You. Thank you so much.”
We understand some people may be confused about the best way to help. We are in direct, private and ongoing conversations with Amanda, Gina and Michelle about many matters, including your generosity.
While they appreciate the generous offers of goods and services, for now, they are trying to assess what they need today and for years to come. That’s why donations to the Cleveland Courage Funds are so welcome.
We are confident the Cleveland Courage Funds are the legitimate, appropriate and most effective vehicles for this effort. In fact, donations to the Cleveland Courage Funds are already being distributed to the four survivors consistent with the concepts behind the trusts that are being set up. And as soon as the trusts are in place, one hundred percent of all donations to the Cleveland Courage Funds will go into those trusts.
Cleveland is known for its generosity. Amanda, Gina, Michelle and Amanda’s daughter are indeed grateful for that generosity, as are we.
Charles Ramsey was now making the most of his fifteen minutes of fame. Rap superstar Snoop Dogg played his now infamous profanity-filled cell phone call to the police dispatcher on his GGN news network, before inviting him into the studio for an interview.
“You’re a real hero,” said the rapper. “You’re somebody that I want to meet. You’re a great guy and you should be commended. There should be more people like you in the world, and hopefully we’ll be able to rid the world of fucking peasants that’s knocking up girls like that. We love you, Mr. Ramsey.”
A local restaurant chain also offered him free hamburgers for life, and Hodge’s restaurant, where he still washed dishes, launched a special Charles Ramsey–inspired hamburger and T-shirt in his honor.
A Taiwanese online gaming company released a video game called
Charles Ramsey’s Burger Bash
. To the sound track of Ramsey’s infamous WEWS-TV interview, players hurl cheeseburgers at dozens of little Ariel Castro avatars, poking their heads out of a house closely resembling 2207 Seymour Avenue. One of the Castro avatars strums a bass guitar, while another is on a motorcycle.
Furious, Ramsey’s newly appointed attorney issued a statement on his behalf, saying he did not endorse the game, “Ramsey Burgers” or “burgers for life.”
“I want everyone to know that I have nothing to do with this trash,” read his statement.
But Ramsey did sign a book deal with a Cleveland publisher to write his autobiography, as well as inking a $10,000 contract to go on the celebrity speaking circuit.
But to top it all, the Eric C. Conn law firm in Stanville, Kentucky, announced plans to commission a statue of Charles Ramsey, which would be donated to a Cleveland museum.
“I can’t think of a better way to commend my friend Charles,” said Conn, “than having a statue made in his honor.”
But less than two months later, Ramsey would tell the
MailOnline
that fame had ruined his life and he was broke.
“I’m broke, bro, and that’s the truth,” he said. “I don’t have an address, I don’t live anywhere.”
On Friday, May 24, the Ohio BCI started testing the several hundred pieces of evidence recovered from 2207 Seymour Avenue. These included various chains, padlocks and other restraints, as well as Castro’s .357 Luger service revolver, which he used to play Russian roulette with his terrified victims.
BCI forensic scientist Joshua Barr examined the powerful weapon and successfully test-fired it in his laboratory.
“I determined that it was operable,” said Barr. “It could expel a projectile.”
He also measured and weighed the various lengths of rusty chains that Castro had used to restrain his three captives.
“There was a huge amount of evidence,” explained Barr. “Some of the chains had smaller chains attached to them by padlocks.”
The total length of chains scattered all over Castro’s house measured 99 feet, 3 inches and weighed 92.29 pounds.
Compared with his victims, Ariel Castro was living in five-star luxury. He had now requested to be taken off suicide watch and his jailhouse logs, still updated every ten minutes, show he was most concerned with cleanliness and hygiene. He regularly showered and brushed his teeth, even asking for disinfectant and a brush to clean out his cell and toilet facilities.
When he wasn’t sleeping or having one of his three regular meals, Castro liked to snack, using his commissary money to purchase peanut butter crackers and Snickers bars. Under Cuyahoga County Jail rules inmates can spend up to $30 a week—taken from any money they had at the time of their arrest—to buy various items on sale at the commissary.
He constantly complained to his guards that his cell was too cold, but rarely bothered to put on any clothes.
“It’s not the Ritz-Carlton,” said his attorney Craig Weintraub, “It’s been difficult.”
At the beginning of June, Ariel Castro was taken off suicide watch and moved to another part of the jail. In his new cell, he was provided with a television with a remote control and now spent most of his time watching movies. As he was no longer considered a suicide risk, Inmate C29 was put on the “razor list,” but declined the privilege as he was now growing a full beard.
Late Friday afternoon, June 7, a month and a day after his arrest, a Cuyahoga County grand jury returned an unprecedented 329-count indictment against Ariel Castro. The indictments only covered the period from August 2002, when the first victim, Michelle Knight, was abducted, until February 2007. Prosecutor Tim McGinty promised there would be more to follow.
“Today’s indictment represents a first major step in the criminal justice process,” said McGinty. “Our investigation continues and we will present our findings to the grand jury.”
The 142-page indictment accused Ariel Castro of two counts of aggravated murder, for causing the unlawful termination of a pregnancy. He was also indicted on 139 counts of rape, 177 counts of kidnapping, seven counts of gross sexual imposition, three counts of felonious assault and a single count of possessing criminal tools.
After the remaining indictments came down, the County Prosecutor’s Capital Review Committee would meet to decide whether to attach a death penalty specification to it.
After the grand jury indictments, the three victims’ lawyers released a statement expressing their satisfaction.
“We have a great legal system,” read the statement, “plus confidence and faith in the prosecutor’s office and its decisions. Now, we stand back and let the judicial process unfold.”
On Saturday morning, Ariel Castro’s attorneys announced he would plead not guilty to each and every charge, warning prosecutors not to use the death penalty as a bargaining chip.
“The indictment is being reviewed,” Jaye Schlachet told the Reuters news agency, “and a ‘not guilty’ plea will be entered at the scheduled arraignment.”
Schlachet said the death penalty was inappropriate for Castro’s case, noting there was no physical evidence or medical records relating to the miscarriages.
“It would be unprecedented to pursue the death penalty for an alleged death of a fetus,” he said, “without the death of the mother. We remain hopeful that the prosecutor’s office and the public understand and agree that a death penalty should never be used as leverage to attempt to obtain a plea bargain.”
At 1:45
P.M.
on Wednesday, June 12, a handcuffed and shackled Ariel Castro was led into the Cuyahoga Common Pleas Court for his arraignment. It had been moved to Judge Deena Calabrese’s twenty-second-floor courtroom, to accommodate all the media.
Just before walking in through the courtroom doors, Castro, handcuffed, shackled and dressed in a bright orange prison jumpsuit, had a smirk on his face. Then as soon as the courtroom opened, he lowered his head and shut his eyes, as bailiffs escorted him to the defense table.
Throughout the one-minute hearing he kept his head bowed, staring at the floor, as a line of news photographers and TV camera crews filmed him from the public gallery.
“Good morning,” said Judge Calabrese. “I have a very hefty indictment in front of me.”
The defense then waived the reading of the 329-count indictment, telling the judge that their client was pleading not guilty to everything. After entering the plea, Judge Calabrese announced that Judge Michael Russo had been assigned to the case, with the first pretrial hearing scheduled for June 19.
Then the judge continued Castro’s $8 million bond and dismissed the court.
Outside the courtroom, Craig Weintraub acknowledged that some of the kidnapping charges “cannot be disputed.” He told reporters that Castro’s not guilty plea would force prosecutors to decide if it was worth pursuing the death penalty, thereby compelling the three victims to testify at a high-profile trial.
“We are very sensitive to the emotional strain and impact that a trial would have on the women, their families and this community,” said Weintraub. “Mr. Castro currently faces hundreds of years in prison … and it is our hope that we can continue to work toward a resolution, to avoid having an unnecessary trial about aggravated murder and the death penalty.”