CHAPTER 84

 Patterson vs. Nelson

Trial by Faith

My name is Tommy Nelson, and this is my story as it unfolded in 2006. Some names have been changed to protect the innocent. I’ve always wanted to say that in my writings. The idea came from Dragnet, an old television series.

It was late in the afternoon on a cold February day. I hadn’t heard or seen my best friend, Charlie Patterson, in days. I was concerned.

I knocked on the door of Charlie’s house. His mother answered.

I introduced myself, “Hi, I’m Tommy, a good friend of Charlie’s. I haven’t seen or heard from him in a while and was wondering if he was okay.”

“He’s been sick” was the reply of Mrs. Patterson. “I’ve kept him home from school and in bed.”

 “Can I see him?” I asked. “I won’t stay long.”

As I made my way up to Charlie’s bedroom, I was overcome by despair. Why? I wondered. As I entered Charlie’s room, I was unprepared for what I was about to see. There lay Charlie, drenched in sweat, his matted hair clinging to his forehead. His skin was gray, and his eyes almost black, as if someone had punched him in the face. Charlie was shivering like he was convulsing. His lips were dried and cracked. I saw desperation in his eyes. He couldn’t speak.

He was barely audible as I heard him plea for help. As I got closer, the smell of urine overtook me. The room smelled foul as I entered, but as I got closer to Charlie, the stench overtook me. I covered my mouth and nose. I was close to puking.

“Please.” His eyes begged as a muffled sound escaped his lips. “Hospital” was all I could make out as Charlie began to cough, spewing phlegm from the side of his mouth. The foam escaping his mouth reminded me of a rabid dog.

I didn’t have to think twice or ask permission from his parents. Charlie was in a bad shape, and he needed my help. I threw back the covers. Charlie was naked and lying in his own urine. Bed sores covered parts of his body. The bed was soaked and the sheets stained yellow.

I wrapped Charlie in the blanket that hadn’t been saturated by his urine. I could hear Charlie utter “Thanks, bro” as he lapsed into unconsciousness.

As I carried Charlie downstairs, Mrs. Patterson tried to stop me. She informed me that she and her husband didn’t believe in doctors. She yelled at me, telling me that God would heal Charlie without doctors. I ignored her. I thanked God that Mr. Patterson was at work, for he was a large man. I knew God could move mountains, for surely, Mr. Patterson was a mountain of a man.

Thinking back, God did move Mr. Patterson out of my way.

I learned in church that God would heal us. But I also learned that God gave us doctors to help aid us in our healing. It was the combination of both. Believe that you are healed and then let the doctors do their part. For most of us, our faith is not that big.

As I carried Charlie down the front walk to the street, I heard Mrs. Patterson yell, “I’m calling the police!”

I yelled back, “At least I’ll get a ride to the hospital!”

I flagged down a car, which stopped. That was, in my mind, God working with me to get Charlie help. “My friend Charlie is in bad shape. We need to get him to the emergency room before it is too late!” I hysterically exclaimed.

With no questions asked, the driver whom I did not know, drove Charlie and me to the emergency entrance of the hospital. Back in those days, concern for one another was encouraged. I would like to believe that guy was an angel. In a sense, he was. The hit song “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen was playing on the radio. Or was it a CD or cassette tape? All I could think was hallelujah, a car had stopped to help us. The words escaped me as I cradled and rocked Charlie in my arms to comfort him.

As I got out of the car, I yelled for help as I struggled to pick up Charlie. I was exhausted by now. The stress, the physical exertion, the worry had overtaken me.

Two orderlies wheeled a gurney out to the car and lifted Charlie onto it. As I followed Charlie into the hospital, I saw out of the corner of my eye a police car drive up with its flashing lights on, no siren.

I was allowed to sit in a chair behind the closed curtain as the doctors began his examination. One of the doctors barked out orders as I heard concerned comments made by the team working on Charlie.

“He’s stable for now. Clean him up and take him to ICU stat” were the doctor’s orders I overheard. The doctor turned to me, pointed, and said, “In my office, now!”

As I followed the doctor, a police officer caught my arm and asked if I was Tommy Nelson. I replied yes. He turned me around, handcuffed me, and told me I was being arrested for kidnapping. As he began to read me my Miranda rights, the officer was interrupted as the doctor intervened and asked what was going on.

“The boy is being arrested for kidnapping,” the officer explained. “The mother of the boy he kidnapped is filing charges of trespassing, kidnapping, and assault.”

“Keep your mouth shut, boy,” the doctor informed me. “I have an excellent lawyer that will get you off for saving your friend’s life. Officer,” the doctor continued, “I need the boy in my office now so I can complete my medical report. Then the boy is yours afterward.” The officer obliged.

As the officer waited outside the door to the doctor’s office, I explained to the doctor what happened. Before I began my explanation, the doctor called into his office two members of his team who had worked on Charlie.

I didn’t know then what was happening, but the doctor did. He wanted witnesses to be on my side. He knew there would be a court battle. He had seen other victims being rescued from people who didn’t believe in doctors. As the doctor told me, if it wasn’t for me, Charlie would have died of advanced pneumonia. Charlie had only hours to live.

The police officer took me to the police station. The officer never completed reading me my rights in all the confusion. I was booked, photographed, fingerprinted, and escorted to my cell away from the other criminals. Criminals?

The doctor’s attorney arrived at the police station soon after I was booked. The attorney was at my side as the police interrogated me. I told my story as it happened. I was invited into the Patterson home after I had asked to see Charlie. I never trespassed. I described the situation of Charlie’s room, and a police officer was sent over to investigate. I told the police I never touched Mrs. Patterson. How could I when I was carrying Charlie in my arms? My hands were full and occupied. I did admit of pushing past her at the bottom of the stairs. But I never laid a hand on her.

I was released to my parents, pending further investigation. I was charged with the invasion of privacy by taking Charlie against the Patterson’s spiritual beliefs. So it would be up to the court to hold me responsible for the invasion of privacy or saving a life. I was in God’s hands, and I already knew the outcome. God is prolife. I had learned that in Sunday school.

Charlie overcame his bout with pneumonia. His bed sores healed, and his cough went away. Charlie had lost thirty-five pounds throughout his three-week ordeal. It took him several more weeks to recoup and gain his strength back. With the pending court hearing, I was not allowed to see him. Charlie did home study courses to catch up in school. Charlie did not return to school that second semester of our sophomore year.

Charlie and I became best friends at the age of four. Charlie lived just around the corner from me on the next street when my family moved to Boulder. We were buds throughout elementary school, junior high, and now high school. We had planned on going to the same college once we graduate high school. We were more like brothers than best friends.

I was assured by my attorney that I had done nothing wrong and that my case would be dismissed. The court date was set for late May.

As I entered the courtroom, I saw my parents sitting behind the defense table in the public section along with Charlie. This was the first time I had seen Charlie since I had carried him into the hospital three months earlier. His parents were sitting with their lawyers at the prosecution table. My lawyer and I took our seats.