I was so sure Dominic Jones would be convicted of raping that woman it never occurred to me he’d walk. The Hennepin County prosecutor had him dead to rights. On film. So, when he did skate, I was so upset I couldn’t see straight. Still am.
What those jurors – eight of them men, surprise – did was declare open season on young women who drink. Especially those who drink a lot. They co-signed the concept that is perfectly okay to prey on these girls. Now, guys – particularly athletes (I don’t know what it is them) — will be gunning, armed with a good liquor cabinet. Or least a bottle. Count on more date rapes through RHP with predators simply waiting for a girl to drink at least enough so she’s forgetful about her glass – and then toss the pill in, figuring, What the hell: lights, camera action, baby!
It was plain as day the woman in that dorm room laying there on the bed, spread-eagled with Jones having himself a good old time between her thighs was incapable of consenting to sex. Yet, the jury winked at Jones. They spanked his wrist with a conviction for, get this, “unwanted sexual contact.” Well, damn it, if that’s not rape what the hell is?
The judge should’ve set the verdict aside. The system failed this young lady. Those jurors made pretty much certain that it will fail young women after her.
Dwight Hobbes is a writer based in the Twin Cities. He contributes regularly to the TC Daily Planet.