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July 10, 2011
July 10, 2011
July 10, 2011
CHICAGO
WE THINK
John Barron Publisher Tom McNamee Editorial Page Editor
emember that freakish hailstorm on June 30 that rained down ice cubes on a hot summer night? One cherished Chicago gem is still recovering and desperately needs our help. The hailstorm nearly destroyed the 103-year-old Garfield Park Conservatory, one of the largest public glass houses in the United States and a beloved Chicago institution. After a rebirth beginning 15 years ago, the conservatory draws a minimum of 150,000 visitors, and as many as 1 million, a year to Chicagos West Side. Hail shattered about 60 percent of the glass panes protecting thousands of plants in this landscaped paradise. The three main rooms suffered the greatest damage, including the historic Fern Room and the Desert House. The Chicago Park District, which owns the conservatory, has insurance but more is needed to complete the repairs and make up for lost revenue while parts of the
A N I N D E P E N D E N T N E W S PA P E R
cmarin@suntimes.com
case, police identified a 19-year-old young man from Chicago named James Jake Malecek who, two days later, turned himself in. But in the Chicago case, though police initially questioned witnesses on the scene, their investigation inexplicably stopped after less than 24 hours. Though David Koschman never regained consciousness, though his injury was severe enough to justify an aggressive inquiry even before his death 11 days later, police did nothing. Only on the 15th day, after the medical examiner declared it a homicide, did CPD resume investigating. On the 18th day, witness Bridget Higgins McCarthy finally admitted knowing who had fled the scene and gave police the name of Richard R.J. Vanecko, a nephew of Richard M. Daley, then mayor, and Bill Daley, current White House chief of staff. Amazingly, police would wait another week. Rather than immediately pick up Vanecko for questioning, cops gave his lawyer a full seven days to bring him in. Twenty-five days would pass before Chicago Police ever laid eyes on Vanecko. Koschmans friends failed to make a positive ID, and the Cook County States Attorneys Office never considered convening a grand jury. Oddly, not a shred of paperwork exists to memorialize the states attorneys decision.
Seven years later, the case was still marked open until the Chicago Sun-Times Tim Novak and Chris Fusco began asking hard questions. CPD suddenly re-investigated, and for the first time, named Vanecko as the person who threw the lone punch that killed Koschman but declared it self-defense. Case closed according to the cops. But not according to Chicagos inspector general, who is now investigating the investigation. It is undeniable that these kinds of stories are filled with sorrow on all sides, not only for the families of those who were hit but for the families of those who did the hitting. The fact is, however, that excessive force, regardless of intent, normally is charged. In the Long Beach case, no one believes that Jake Malecek a good kid, according the neighbors, on his way to college meant to kill Kevin Kennelly. But police and prosecutors in Indiana did what law enforcement does almost everywhere in such a circumstance: They brought charges. Violence, however unintended or accidental, usually carries consequences. In the Koschman case, there were no consequences. Just a broken-hearted widow who buried her only child seven years ago. The Long Beach case stands as a counterpoint to how it could have been, should have been and wasnt here in Chicago.