Dramatization of Statute of Limitations

It was Tuesday, March 9th, when the Mayor, the City Attorney and a woman who identified herself as being from Champaign County Social Services met with me in the foyer. It appeared as though something was about to happen and I asked them if there was any news, my typical greeting now to officials who might be in the know.

"We have been studying your situation," said the city attorney, "and I'm afraid that you have no claim to damages from the city. The statute of limitations is two years in cases like this and that time has expired."

"Of course you would say that," I said. "An attorney dropped by the other day and he thought there was a case." I acted positive, but the lawyer, who told me that, was not about to take the case with nothing up front.

"I understand that you've been very frustrated," said the woman from social services. "Perhaps we can get you checked into a hospital and see if we can't help you with your condition."

"There will be time enough for that after this whole thing is settled," I replied.

"Come on, Dave," said the Mayor. "We've gone out of our way here. We let you stay inside, set up a bed, use the facilities. The civil rights bill was passed. You made a point here. You've got your statement in the papers. I'd call it a victory. Let me be honest. Right now, I'm under a lot of pressure to put you under arrest."

"Who were the cops?” I asked. “At the very least, they need to be identified so it can be verified they are no longer with the Urbana Police. Even more importantly, why was there a grand jury cover-up?"

Singer shrugged his shoulders, looked at the City Attorney and the two of them left, leaving the social worker behind. "I can get you a serious evaluation at Mercy Hospital," she said.

Inexplicably, I felt sad for the social worker—as though she was my own mother desperately pleading with me to stop the action. "Sorry," I said, almost crying. "This is where I need to be."