september
/ october 2004:
Truth,
Justice, and ed kramer
Arrested for a crime he
claims he didn't commit, Edward Kramer has been waiting
for his day in court for more than four years. In the
meantime, conspiracies have evolved: Was he set up by
enemies he made in the seedy underworld of science fiction
conventions? Was he the victim of virulent anti-Semitism?
And why has it taken so long for his case to go to trial?
The twisted tale of a man and the life he now leads.
by Benyamin Cohen
Editor's
note: This article first appeared in the fall of 2004.
Edward
Kramer is sitting in his one-bedroom home. These days
it's about all the 43 year old does. Arrested in August
2000 on accusations of child molestation, Kramer is
on house arrest and has been waiting for his trial for
more than four years.
Kramer's story does not follow a simple path. It takes
detours into complex and murky territory. Kramer claims
anti- Semitism, saying he was beaten up for being Jewish
during his stay at the Gwinnett County Detention Center.
Some even claim the judge overseeing his case is a Messianic
Jew and could not be partial in judging Kramer, who
has become a more devout Jew since his arrest.
He claims the jail did not give him necessary medical
attention; he has severe neurological and spine damage
and can barely move his neck. Some claim conspiracy.
Kramer is the founder of Dragon*Con, a world-renowned
sci-fi convention which attracts more than 25,000 people
to Atlanta each year. Some in the sci-fi community had
personal vendettas against Kramer, were jealous of his
success, and wanted to see his downfall.
And, perhaps most important, some claim the evidence
against him has so many holes in it that it uncovers
possible corruption in the Gwinnett judicial system.
After all, his arrest happened more than four years
ago and, to this day, he has yet to go to trial.
Surprisingly, months of research not only confirms much
of what Kramer and his supporters claim but it's not
even the whole story.
It's a bright Tuesday in July 2004, primary election
day, and Kramer is allowed to leave his home to cast
his vote for the local elections. It's ironic. Shackled
to his home by an electronic anklet, Kramer is going
to take part in the judicial process, the very same
system that has led to his current confinement.
It's shortly after 9 AM at the B.B. Harris Elementary
School in the heart of Duluth and the voters have begun
to trickle in. Whites, Blacks, Asians - all calling
Gwinnett County home. Several "Bush/Cheney 04" bumper
stickers reveal a Republican bias in the district. In
fact, in the 2000 election, President Bush received
63% of the vote in Gwinnett.
A dark grey Chrysler Town and Country pulls up and parks
in an empty spot. The door opens and, quite dramatically,
a black cane with a silver handle peeks its way out
of the car. It's followed by a foot and slowly a body
emerges. It's Edward Kramer.
To those who have not met him before, he's an imposing
figure. Part Jerry Garcia, part Paul Bunyan, Kramer
is a large man. A bushy black beard and a long ponytail
tied in the back with a leather strap punctuate his
frame. Wearing a dark suit and a novelty dreidel tie,
he's clearly overdressed for the occasion. In a sense,
the suit allows him to recoup some sense of self-respect,
to feel important as he exercises the only right he
has left.
The years in home confinement have not bode well for
the already frail man. His eyes, only partially open,
are dark and weathered. Unable to exercise, he walks
slowly, although he still has a slight swagger in his
step.
This is a far cry from his life prior to his arrest
four years ago. With a Master's Degree in Public Health
from Emory University, Kramer served on Mayor Andrew
Young's task force on domestic violence and worked as
a technology and health consultant for the Metropolitan
Regional Educational Service Agency.
As well, he worked with broken families and served as
a mentor to dozens of troubled teenagers. "While my
father was in prison on drug charges, Ed was somewhat
of a surrogate father to me," says George Burgamy, an
Emory alumnus now in his 20s.
But it was these types of relationships that, Kramer's
friends agree, may have led people to think he was guilty.
"He's put himself in a situation where questions could
arise," says David Robinson, who also mentored teenagers
with Kramer. "All it takes is someone to point a finger
and our lives will come to a screeching halt and yet
we do it because we have to, because somebody should."
To many children, Kramer was like Harry Potter's Hagrid,
a larger-than-life adult in whom they could confide.
It's a fitting reference since he has made a name for
himself in the sci-fi/fantasy literary world. It's as
if, in essence, he has become one of his own characters
- a tortured soul on a mythical quest of good vs. evil.
That quest began unexpectedly for Kramer on Thursday,
August 24, 2000. Kramer had been dating a woman with
three sons ages 12, 13, and 15. The father of the younger
two, a military intelligence officer, was seeking custody
and had the mother investigated by the Department of
Family and Children's Services (DFCS).
An anonymous call was placed to the DFCS office, alleging
abuse and the boys were interrogated by Gwinnett police
at their school. At first, the children denied anything
had happened. Still certain that some wrongdoing had
indeed occurred, the investigator, according to court
testimony, then went to speak with the boys' mother.
The investigator informed her of the situation and asked
her to speak with the boys. That evening, she spoke
with her sons and later informed the investigator that
"something indeed had taken place" with Kramer. The
next day, the police called Kramer and asked him to
come down to the station. It would be the last time
Kramer would go anywhere as a free man.
He was arrested on the spot. From the police station,
Kramer was sent directly to the Gwinnett County Detention
Center (GCDC) to await trial.
HARD TIME
By almost all accounts, the GCDC is not a pleasant place
to await trial. The jail is grossly overcrowded. According
to an article in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution,
it had been designed to hold 780 prisoners, but at the
moment Kramer arrived it was housing about 1,500. Half
of the inmates were forced to sleep on the floor.
Kramer's situation was markedly worse. According to
a sworn affidavit filed by fellow inmate Reverend Thomas
Coley, Kramer was immediately ostracized for being Jewish.
He was denied kosher food, a Hebrew prayer book, and
a Jewish Bible - inmate rights that were required by
law under the landmark 1999 federal case Jackson
v. Mann. Indeed, similar amenities for both Christian
and Muslim prisoners were allowed. According to Coley,
Kramer was told that he "picked the wrong jail to be
Jewish in."
The bond hearing was set for September 14, 2000, more
than two weeks after he was arrested. The local news
media ran stories about Kramer's arrest that day and
the courtroom was jammed with radio and print reporters
as well as a number of television crews.
At the hearing, the state only called one witness, Gwinnett
County investigator Curtis L. Clemmons who stated that
the charges stemmed from an anonymous phone call.
During a search of Kramer's house after the arrest,
Clemmons also says he found more than 200 pornographic
tapes in Kramer's home, yet the day of the bond hearing,
he neglected to bring any of them to the courtroom.
It should be noted that two years later, the State conceded
that the videos were not pornographic and the tapes
- which included The Blues Brothers, Saving Private
Ryan, Gladiator and (ironically) Conspiracy Theory -
have since been removed as evidence in the case. In
fact, the Georgia Court of Appeals held that the entire
search warrant's description was so open-ended, that
the warrant was in violation of both the Georgia and
United States Constitutions.
The hearing was televised and, despite a direct order
by jail administrator Major J.J. Hogan to leave the
televisions off in the unit where Kramer was housed,
it was broadcast to Kramer's fellow inmates. By the
end of the evening, Kramer had reportedly received several
death threats and was thrown into solitary confinement
for his own protection. Besides five days he spent in
the medical ward, Kramer says he spent nearly two months
in solitary confinement.
According to Kramer, the room consisted of an 8' x 12'
cell, stone floor, a metal toilet and basin, a 12" x
16" slab of steel jutting out from the wall at seat
and desk levels, and a steel bunk with a 1" pad. Three
meals a day are slid through the door and inmates are
confined to their cells for 23 hours a day.
"It's primordial," says Harlan Ellison, a renowned novelist
and close friend of Kramer. "They behave as if it's
the 14th century, and it's the Spanish inquisition.
They're treating him as if he's the Marquis De Sade
for Chrissakes."
Reverend Thomas Coley was detained on charges of credit
card fraud at the GCDC at the same time as Kramer. While
there, Coley led a weekly Bible study group and invited
Kramer to talk to the class about Judaism. When the
deputies found out about this they cancelled the class
and threatened Coley, he says. "They told me it was
because I had that damn Jew in there. That's when the
whole roof caved in," Coley recalls. "They told me they
were going to hang Ed and that they were going to hang
me along with him." With no actual evidence of credit
card fraud against Coley, his charges were later dropped
and he was released from the GCDC after spending six
months there.
"I wouldn't have believed it had I not been there,"
says Coley, who has since gone back to ministering.
"The anti-Semitism there was horrendous. As a black
detainee there's only one thing that I can think that
would've been worse for me - and that's if I was Jewish."
HEALTH CONCERNS
If being Jewish weren't hard enough, Kramer was suffering
physically as well. Having several pre-existing medical
conditions - including one that caused skin lesions
- Kramer was denied access to his medications, even
though it is normal protocol to allow inmates access
to their prescription drugs.
Although six witnesses took the stand that day in defense
of Kramer, Judge Debra Kaplan Turner denied bond stating
that he posed a "significant threat to the community"
and sent Kramer back to the GCDC. Not able to care for
his conditions, Kramer began to get infections all over
the surface of his body. By this time, Kramer had been
sleeping on blood soaked sheets and, according to an
affidavit, was not permitted to change his linens prior
to laundry day. "The circumstances of [Kramer's] suffering
were so obvious that Edward Kramer's sheets, towels,
washcloths, uniform, socks, and undergarments were placed
in red biohazard bags because of the exposed blood,"
the affidavit stated. According to Coley, the GCDC deputies
went so far as to tell the other inmates that Kramer
had AIDS so that he would be further ostracized. Making
matters worse, court records show, Kramer was denied
daily showers.
When inmates are suffering medical problems, they are
sent to the prison infirmary. Prison Health Services
(PHS), the nation's largest private provider of correctional
medicine, provides medical services for 235,000 inmates
in 26 states at more than 400 locations - including
the GCDC.
For years, PHS' operations have been under a dark cloud.
Dr. Manuel Fajardo, the first PHS physician to examine
Kramer, had two drug convictions prior to being hired
by PHS. Dwana Gephart, the woman responsible for all
PHS activity at GCDC, only has a high school diploma.
And inmates, their families, and even PHS' own nurses
continue to file complaints alleging negligence against
the company.
A PHS whistleblower in Maine, for example, reported
that the medical director reported to work intoxicated,
the company was charging the state for medications that
were prescribed but not actually given, and nurses were
instructed to destroy inmate medical records. The whistleblower
reported that one nurse even took home 42 boxes and
burnt them in her wood stove.
This was no isolated case. In July 2004, New York state
investigators accused PHS of causing the death of inmate
Brian Tetrault for not giving him his Parkinson's medication.
The investigators also urged prosecutors to look into
falsified records indicating that Tetrault had been
released from custody for 10 minutes prior to the time
of his death. With Tetrault a free man, jail authorities
would not be required to file a report on the circumstances
of his death. Tetrault had survived ten years under
the watch of a different prison healthcare provider,
but passed away less than week after he was transferred
to the care of PHS.
"People die in jail just like they do out in the community,"
says Jean Byassee, the chief legal officer of PHS. "It's
not like this is a hospital setting." Indeed, Byassee
says that, at any give time, there are around 1,000
pending lawsuits against PHS.
The Gwinnett County Detention Center as well as the
Gwinnett County police department is not new to such
lawsuits. In May of this year, 31-year-old Frederick
Jerome Williams died after being repeatedly shocked
with a 50,000 volt Taser stun gun during a scuffle with
sheriff's deputies. And in September 2003, 25-year-old
Ray Charles Austin also died after being shocked with
a stun gun during a scuffle with "12 to 20 deputies,"
according to published reports. Both families are suing
the county for negligence.
By any stretch of the imagination, Kramer wasn't the
healthiest of people even before his stay at the GCDC.
He had chronic asthma and sleep apnea; at the age of
15, parts of Kramer's vertebrae were fused together
to help his spine; and he suffers from psoriatic arthritis,
which causes extreme swelling in the joints as well
as external lesions. Yet, prior to his arrest, Kramer
often went on rigorous caving excursions which required
him to rappel deep into cavernous territory.
On the way to the medical unit on October 4, 2000, Kramer
slipped and fell causing trauma to both his head and
neck. According to a lawsuit filed by Kramer, PHS' Dr.
Fajardo told Kramer he would die in jail. Rheumatologist
Glenn Parris, who examined Kramer's injuries, called
the situation "disastrous." Even after an MRI revealed
spinal cord injury Kramer says he was not given a mattress
or a pillow when one became available.
"They just totally and completely dropped the ball when
he was incarcerated and it worsened his medical condition,"
says Kramer's attorney Walter Britt.
Things would only get worse when, on December 1, 2000,
a food fight occurred in Kramer's unit. Ninety minutes
later, according to Kramer, GCDC's Rapid Response Team
held a tactical operations drill and told Kramer to
put his hands behind his neck. Kramer says a masked
deputy then slammed his head into a reinforced cinder
block wall.
According to those present, the guards left a golf ball
size extrusion on Kramer's head. Although he was not
in the room when it happened, Reverend Coley says that
one of the deputies admitted to him that it happened.
"This deputy was telling me that they damn near broke
his neck and he was happy about it," recalls Coley.
Prison protocol is that anytime the Rapid Response Team
is deployed and a deputy touches an inmate, there is
a written report documenting the incident. Those reports
are then available to the public as open records. When
called repeatedly for the report, GCDC claimed that
the report for that particular incident "didn't exist"
and that they couldn't locate it.
Earlier this summer, Kramer had a case pending before
the U.S. 11th Circuit Court of Appeals alleging gross
misconduct by Gwinnett County officials, PHS, and others.
The Court dismissed it in August stating that Kramer's
claims that the medical care in the prison was inadequate
were unsubstantiated. As of this printing, Kramer was
planning another appeal of that decision.
"I agree with the 11th Circuit's decision," says Christina
Bloom, Gwinnett County's attorney handling the suit.
"I'm pleased with the result."
BLIND JUSTICE
Underscoring all these aspects of the case, some of
Kramer's supporters believe that the judge in the case,
Debra Kaplan Turner, harbors anti-Semitic feelings against
Kramer. Turner grew up in Atlanta attending Hebrew School
at Congregation Ahavath Achim in Buckhead. But according
to her father, while attending law school at the University
of Georgia, Turner became an apostate Jew, renouncing
her Judaism and converting to Christianity.
"She considers herself Christian," laments Arthur Kaplan,
himself a semi-retired judge in Atlanta and still an
active member of Ahavath Achim. "It's very concerning
to me."
Turner, who married a non-Jew, lives in Lawrenceville,
less than seven miles away from the Gwinnett County
Detention Center where Kramer was allegedly assaulted.
"She's still my child, but I'll never know why she converted,"
her father says.
Gwinnett attorney John Matteson takes the story one
step further. A criminal defense lawyer who has tried
several cases in front of Turner, Matteson believes
Turner actually became a Messianic Jew. He went so far
as to attend a local Messianic temple to see if she
prayed there. Matteson is not alone in his beliefs.
Some of Kramer's friends have made similar claims, even
going so far as saying that Turner wears both a Star
of David and a cross around her neck - although none
of them admitted to actually seeing it.
According to Atlanta's Mark Sanders, a former Evangelical
minister turned Orthodox Jew, the fact that her father
says Turner converted to Christianity and others believe
she's a Messianic Jew are not contradictory. "The Messianic
Jews' theology is clearly Christian," he says. "By virtue
of believing in Jesus, a Jew has turned his back on
his religion." Sanders, who now goes undercover to get
people out of groups like Jews for Jesus, also points
out that there are a wide range of Messianic Jews.
"It's hard to measure," he says. "Each one of these
Messianic synagogues are a franchise onto themselves.
The truth is they're real confused."
Rob Greenwald, a Jewish attorney in Gwinnett who has
been friends with Turner for 17 years, says the allegations
couldn't be further from the truth. "Whoever told you
that is full of crap," he says. "Is she anti-Semitic?
Not only no, but hell no."
Assistant District Attorney Jim Miskell, who will be
trying the case against Kramer, laughs when he hears
the charges of Turner's anti-Semitism. "I haven't seen
any evidence of it," he says.
Indeed, a trip to Turner's courtroom reveals a more
pleasant picture of the 49-year-old judge. It's a recent
Friday morning and Judge Turner is handling a calendar
call to set the dates for upcoming trials. A bald attorney
sporting a goatee walks in wearing shorts and t-shirt.
"I like your outfit," Turner says with a laugh. Another
lawyer, 300 pounds and sporting an overgrown mullet,
jokes that he needs to hurry up so he can go on vacation.
Overall, Turner seems affable, joking around with both
the attorneys and even the defendants. She seems compassionate,
trying to save a lawyer some extra work by offering
an alternative solution.
Still, Matteson sees another version of the judge. "She's
a very personable person," he admits. "Debra Turner
is very likable and that's what makes her so deadly."
Citing that the case is still pending, Judge Turner
refused to be interviewed for this article. However,
during a status hearing of the case in August 2004,
she tried to put to rest any claims against her. "I
am not anti-Semitic," she told those present in the
courtroom. "I have never brought my religious beliefs
into this courtroom. Allegations like this disturb me."
To ensure that Kramer could have an impartial trial,
Turner even offered to recluse herself from the case
entirely. Kramer's attorney decided against it.
It's not only Judge Turner who is being questioned in
this case. The Grand Jury that indicted Kramer in November
2000 was ruled illegal by Georgia Superior Court Judge
John S. Langford because the jury pool was wrongfully
selected by Gwinnett officials instead of being an independent
process. In fact, Kramer was finally supposed to have
his trial in February 2002, but it was delayed because
Judge Langford halted all jury trials in Gwinnett for
two months because of an invalid jury selection process.
"It's a very, very corrupt county," says Matteson. "I
don't think at this point in time there's a chance in
hell that Ed can win this kind of a case."
THE JEWISH CAUSE
Besides a few stories in the Gwinnett Daily Post
and Creative Loafing there has been little
mainstream press given to Kramer's situation. And calls
to several prominent Jewish attorneys in Atlanta revealed
the obvious: Not one of them had even heard of the case.
When the accusations of anti-Semitism at the jail first
surfaced, the Anti-Defamation League was contacted and
said they would research the case. But years later nothing
has been done to help Kramer. "We've chosen not to get
involved," says Michael Landis, the assistant associate
director of the ADL's Atlanta office.
Further research revealed that, despite having studied
the case for two years, the ADL was unaware of Judge
Turner's involvement or the fact that Kramer was in
home confinement. They thought Kramer was walking the
streets, a free man waiting for trial.
Despite learning these new pieces of information, the
ADL says it will still not get involved in the case.
Several calls to the ADL's national office were left
unreturned.
Isaac Jaroslawicz thinks he knows why. The Miami-based
attorney spent eight years as the Director of Legal
Affairs with the Aleph Institute, a non-profit organization
geared to helping with the religious rights of prisoners.
While there, he worked on Kramer's case. "We have found
that the ADL has rarely been interested in any accused
offender," he says. "It doesn't give them the kind of
press they want. They want to go after things that will
get them better ink - good old fashioned anti-Semites."
In fact, the only national organization, it seems, that
has gotten involved is the little-known New York-based
American Board of Rabbis. "We looked over the whole
thing and we couldn't believe this was the USA," says
Rabbi Mordechai Friedman, the president of the decade-old
group. "Apparently down there in Atlanta, you're still
wearing the white sheets."
Friedman, who crafted a letter on Kramer's behalf that
was sent to Governor Perdue and dozens of other politicians,
is surprised that the local Jewish community isn't up
in arms. "This has all the ear-marks of classical gentile
anti-Semitism and the Jews who just don't want to see
it. People spit in their faces and they think it's raining."
OF MYTHS AND MEASURES
For those who have never been to Dragon*Con it's a sight
to behold. Held every fall in downtown Atlanta, the
convention attracts a unique hybrid of Trekkies, Goth
followers, and other assorted science fiction fans.
To an outside observer, the Goth-geek subculture --
complete with its body piercings and outlandish costumes
- doesn't appear to be the most upstanding of crowds.
Which is why many of Kramer's supporters believe the
charges against him stem from the enemies Kramer made
while holding such a powerful position with the sci-fi
convention. "I hate the conspiracy word," says Pat Henry,
a former church deacon, who co- founded Dragon*Con with
Kramer. "But there are some people who do seem to be
jealous of the success we had with Dragon*Con and have
taken the opportunity to get Ed."
Henry specifically notes the actions of a former convention
security head named Michael Dillson, who tried to start
a coup against Kramer. And, talk to anyone about the
Kramer case and they will tell you about the efforts
of husband and wife team Joe Linhart, Jr. and Nancy
Collins. Linhart, who now goes by the name Joe Christ,
is a local underground filmmaker who specializes in
small horror movies that feature images of Hitler and
the cross. His wife's work, which includes more than
a dozen horror novels, has cited references to the Messiah
as the "blood-smeared Jew."
Kramer helped the couple relocate to Atlanta by finding
jobs for both of them. Kramer even lent them money when
times were tough.
Yet, when news broke about Kramer's arrest, they feel
they were stabbed in the back by the man they once trusted.
Among other things, they felt Kramer acted inappropriately
by inviting Christ's teenage son on a caving trip. They
have since become known in the sci-fi world for badmouthing
Kramer and working with Gwinnett County authorities
to prevent Kramer from becoming a free man.
Collins, who in typical fantasy writer fashion refers
to Kramer as "that creature," even tried to score a
book deal out of Kramer's story. "I basically did the
only thing I had any hope of doing to try and support
my family which was to take this horrendous monstrosity
and do something that could be positive about it," she
says.
Although publishers were not interested in her story,
Collins and Christ have made it their goal to become
the disseminators of anti-Kramer rhetoric. They are
no longer invited as Dragon*Con speakers, but can often
be seen in the lobby passing out anti-Kramer paraphernalia
and they have set up a Web site with selective links
to court documents on the case.
"Because we're in the public eye, we were kind of singled
out as the people who were against Ed," Christ says.
"That's not the case. He seems to be presenting himself
as the Leo Frank of his day and it's really not the
case."
THE FINAL STAGE?
Meanwhile, Kramer's case continues its slow grind through
the wheels of justice. In November 2000, he was finally
released from GCDC on $75,000 bond to wait out the time
before his trial in home confinement. Only his attorney
and ordained clergy were allowed to visit him. His 84-year-old
mother was not. "Look, home confinement is a substitute
for being in custody," says Gwinnett prosecutor Miskell.
"It's usually pretty strict."
But Kramer wouldn't be staying at home long. Less than
a week later, a neighbor reported seeing a 15-year-old
neighborhood boy enter the house. Kramer was hauled
back in front of Judge Turner. Melissa Babb, a short
boyish looking 34-year-old Marine vet and friend of
Kramer testified in court it was her. So did the Army
MP who had dropped her off to service Kramer's car.
Indeed, the 15-year-old in question - along with his
mother - both testified in court that day that the boy
was asleep at home and was nowhere near Kramer's house
at the supposed time in question. Yet, despite the fact
that during the court hearing the neighbor admitted
that she didn't actually see anyone enter the house,
Turner revoked Kramer's bond and sent him back to the
GCDC.
"The woman next door thought Ed was a Jew who sacrificed
young gentiles to make matzahs," says the novelist Ellison.
"The origins of the charges against Ed are so questionable
with people with various obvious agendas. Georgia likes
to think it's an enlightened state, but it still has
as much anti-Semitism as it always has, especially when
you have a feudal duchy running Gwinnett County."
It wasn't until late January 2001, when Turner finally
allowed Kramer to return to home confinement. The prosecutors
have postponed the court dates several times over the
years leading some to believe that they were still trying
to dig up quality evidence. The case was even postponed
once at the request of the defense team because they
claimed they weren't given the evidence necessary to
go to trial.
Kramer is scheduled to have an MRI in November 2004
to determine if he needs surgery to repair two screws
that snapped out of a plate in his neck after his car
was rear-ended while stopped at a railroad crossing
last year At the time of this printing, a tentative
start date of December 6, 2004 had been set for the
trial.
Now resigned to his home, Kramer spends most of his
days taking care of his worsening medical condition.
He uses PUVA light radiation three times a week for
his psoriatic condition. He takes medicated baths twice
a day which are followed by steroid treatments. He uses
a nebulizer several times a day and a bi-pap machine
to help with his breathing. Following the incarceration
he developed diabetes. All of this is stabilized by
a nasty cocktail of painkillers and anti-seizure medications.
The daily routine is mapped out on his PDA, alerting
him when it's time to take his next dose.
Not allowed to check his mail or even answer his own
door, Kramer has asked Babb to take care of his daily
errands -- going to the grocery store, the post office,
and the kosher butcher He spends the rest of the day
catching upon things he never had time to do, like studying
the Talmud and reading books. He's even penned a new
book about Kabbalah, the Jewish study of mysticism.
Unable to bring in any new income, Kramer continues
to go into a whirlwind of debt, forcing him to put multiple
mortgages on his home and spiraling into $150,000 in
credit card bills. Occasionally, he receives royalty
checks from the various book projects that he's worked
on over the years. Another friend has set up a legal
defense find, but the little money brought in from donations
goes to pay for Kramer's climbing legal fees.
Guilty or innocent, almost everyone involved believes
he deserves his day in court. "At this stage in the
game, as much as it's a scary thought, his only hope
is to have a quick trial," says Jaroslawicz. "But my
understanding is that there are really some serious
holes in the prosecutor's case. And the only way to
resolve these issues is to get a speedy acquittal. Either
way, I would say, get the acquittal, pack your bags,
and get the hell out of Gwinnett County."
Kramer plans on doing just that. He moved to Georgia
in 1979 to attend Emory but says he will leave the state
as soon as he possibly can. He has invitations from
friends to stay with them in New York, Chicago, and
Los Angeles - all cities with larger Jewish communities
than Atlanta.
However, if Kramer has his way, he would love to move
to Israel with his elderly mother Neither of them have
ever been to the Holy Land and, to Kramer, it is the
only place he would like to call home.
Benyamin Cohen is the author of "My
Jesus Year: A Rabbi's Son Wanders the Bible Belt in
Search of His Own Faith," now out in paperback.
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