This article first appeared in the St. Louis Beacon, March 10, 2011 - I think I'm suffering from samaritrophia. My affliction is self diagnosed, but I believe my analysis to be accurate. For the uninitiated, I should mention that samaritrophia is a disorder that was discovered by the late Kurt Vonnegut who defined it as "the hysterical indifference to the troubles of those less fortunate than oneself." A lot of it is going around.
We samaritrophs are not particularly bitter or angry. We don't start barroom fights over politics or religion; we don't grow red-faced and belligerent when expressing fervently held opinions, nor do we call in to talk radio hosts to rail against the injustice of it all. Rather than rant, we tend to sigh.
Most of us started off infused with some sort of half-assed idealism. The more realistic of our number understood that life is an inherently imperfect enterprise, but felt that through some combination of good intentions and tireless effort we could help to ameliorate the situation. "Better to light a candle than curse the darkness" and all that rot...
Over time, continual exposure to willful ignorance, venality, greed, treachery, deceit, human foible, psychosis, overt stupidity, unbridled hatred and manifest evil managed to exhaust our Samanitarian instincts. The needle on the empathy gauge struck "E" as the tank ran dry. Once disabused of do-gooder impulses, the samaritroph tends to respond to sob stories intended to excuse unconscionable behavior by thinking, "tough shit."
The sentiment seems callous, but it actually affords one the very useful perspective of moral clarity. Acting without regard to consequence is the functional definition of insanity. A society that allows its members to act while consistently excusing them from the appropriate consequences of their actions grows quite literally insane.
Because I've spent my adult life in law enforcement, my particular strain of samaritrophia pertains to the reasons people commit crimes. Over the years, I've heard every motivation imaginable cited to justify, mitigate or excuse the most outrageous of criminal acts.
Though the substantive details may vary from case to case, the end result is always the same: the doer becomes the victim, the victim is transformed into an innocent bystander and the engines of justice are rendered impotent by the poverty/inadequate schooling/emotional or physical abuse/chemical dependency that prompted the crime in the first place. Besides, killing the killer won't bring back the killed. Really? Judges can't resurrect the dead? No fair...
Given this constant diet of BS, the recent trial of Todd Shepard was refreshing because of the straightforward testimony of the admitted killer. No improper toilet training alibis for this bad actor.
Shepard is a 43-year-old African-American resident of Berkeley. On Halloween night of 2008, he went out on a "reconnaissance mission" to kill a cop -- preferably a white one.
Sgt. Michael King of the University City Police Department had the audacity to be sitting in his patrol car as Shepard walked by. The killer subsequently pumped five rounds into the hapless officer before fleeing the scene. He was apprehended four days later by a Missouri State Highway Patrol trooper in the Kansas City area.
Shepard enjoyed the shooting, is glad that King died and feels no remorse for his crime. We know all this because he took the stand against the advice of his public defender and acquainted the jury with these facts.
He also referred to Prosecutor Robert McCulloch, whose own father was murdered while a St. Louis police officer, as a "punk-ass fag" and wrote from jail before the trial, "These honkies know the death penalty don't mean (expletive) to me. I'll spit in the judge's face and dare him to kill me." In short, he was not an entirely sympathetic character.
After finding Shepard guilty of Murder 1st, jurors reconvened to consider punishment. Their options at that point were either the death penalty or life without the possibility of parole -- "hard life" as the cons call it.
After lengthy deliberations, the jury was split as to whether aggravating circumstances arguing in favor of execution outweighed mitigating circumstances arguing against it. A compromise verdict was ultimately reached, and the killer will now be sentenced to spend the rest of his life behind bars.
Most of us can take solace in the hope that he will never again haunt the public streets. Unfortunately, everybody's got to be someplace, so somebody will have to deal with Mr. Shepard until he is summoned to his final judgment.
In the interim, his prospects are grim but not hopeless. Because cop-killers tend to be popular among prison inmates, he may attract a cadre of admirers in the joint. And there's always the chance of an escape or the possibility that some future governor may pronounce him rehabilitated and grant him a pardon. He could even hit the jackpot and get the opportunity to kill a guard.
Sgt. King leaves behind his wife of 23 years who will now spend their planned retirement without him. Upon learning that the jury had declined to extract full justice from her brother, one of Shepard's sisters said, "I thank my heavenly father for sparing my brother's life." Another exclaimed, "Thank you, Lord." Hallelujah, indeed ...
M.W. Guzy is a retired St. Louis cop who currently works for the city Sheriff's Department. His column appears weekly in the Beacon.