KIDS AND COMMUNITY: ‘Windshield death’ should get people thinking

KIDS AND COMMUNITY by Judy Shepps Battle: Recent crime places a face on addiction and homelessness.

By: Judy Shepps Battle
   The widely publicized "windshield death" case has concluded. Chante Jawan Mallard, 27, has been sentenced to 50 years in a Texas penitentiary for the killing of Gregory Biggs, and has been given an additional 10 years for tampering with evidence. She will be eligible for parole after serving 25 years.
   It was not an ordinary murder. The killer did not know the victim or plan to cause his death. Both killer and victim are members of minority groups; one a black woman and the other a homeless, mentally ill white man. Under ordinary circumstances, their paths would have never crossed.
   But cross they did.
   Much has been written about the horrific nature of this crime and the callous indifference to life it represents. Most pundits and Internet message-board posters applaud the severity of Ms. Mallard’s sentence.
   But less has been said about how this case places a face on both addiction and homelessness. And how ordinary those faces are.

The crime

   After a night of drinking and drugging, Chante Mallard struck Gregory Biggs with her car, impaled him on the broken glass of her windshield, drove home, and left him to die in her garage. Pay phones and a fire station were in close proximity to the accident. Ms. Mallard alerted no one.
   The victim lived for one or two hours after Ms. Mallard arrived home. By her own testimony, she apologized to him several times as he lay dying, but did not telephone for professional help. When she did call for assistance, it was because she wanted help in getting rid of the body. She later burned a car seat stained with the victim’s blood.
   Medical experts testified that although Mr. Biggs had bones broken in the accident, he suffered no major trauma to his internal organs and could have survived if he had received prompt medical attention. The medical examiner’s opinion was that Mr. Biggs bled to death.
   Not noted in any reports was the factor of active addiction. Chronic and compulsive use of chemicals produces a diminished capacity for right action. Simply put, it replaces morality with a self-serving fear of being caught doing the wrong thing.
   By these standards, Chante Mallard was an addict.
A face of addiction

   It’s important to understand that one night of drinking, smoking marijuana and ingesting Ecstasy did not make Ms. Mallard an alcoholic or drug addict. Many young people experiment with these substances without developing a compulsion or addiction.
   But Chante Mallard had other signs of having crossed the line from experimentation into addiction.
   She testified she was an habitual marijuana smoker, even while working as a nurse’s aide. Not only did she smoke the drug while caring for her charges, she managed to test negative for drug use in routine urine screenings by smuggling in someone else’s urine or adding bleach to the sample.
   Her job history — she held 13 jobs in her young life — reflects an instability often seen in chemically impaired individuals.
   But most telling of her addiction was that a mere seven days after killing Gregory Biggs, she returned to the same nightclub she had visited shortly before the crime. When asked why she went back to the bar and continued smoking pot and drinking, she said she was trying to forget what she had done to Mr. Biggs.
   Alcohol, marijuana and other drugs are often used to self-medicate great emotional pain. One of the cardinal signs of addiction is that a person is unable to stop abusing chemicals even though he or she knows it is causing harm to self or others.
A face of homelessness

   About 3.5 million people are likely to experience homelessness in any given year. Gregory Biggs became such a statistic about two years before his death, but he wasn’t always down-and-out.
   Self-employed as a bricklayer, he fell on hard times after helping his girlfriend financially. His generosity reportedly left him unable to make payments on his truck, and after losing his truck, he lost his home.
   Soon after that, he started living at a homeless shelter.
   Even though Mr. Biggs was homeless, he maintained a relationship with his now 20-year-old son Brandon, who testified that his father was hard-working, friendly and "very, very loving."
   Reports indicate Mr. Biggs suffered from bipolar disease and mild schizophrenia, but was taking medication for these illnesses and holding down a construction job.
   It is not known why he was walking along Highway 287 at 3 o’clock in the morning when Chante Mallard struck him with her car.
Ordinary people

   What is most heart-wrenching about Chante Mallard and Gregory Biggs is that, in many ways, they are just like you and me.
   Chante Mallard was raised by an apparently caring and close-knit family. Her growing-up years included being a Girl Scout and reportedly getting "A" grades. She has no criminal record and is state-certified as a nurse’s aide. A neighbor reportedly described her as a nice woman who kept her lawn neatly manicured and could often be seen dressed up on her way to Sunday church services.
   Gregory Biggs also came from an ordinary background and lived an unassuming life as father and worker. When he was buried in Dallas, his mother spoke to the media:
   "I want people to understand that he was not just a piece of meat. He’s loved and he was a kind and decent person. That’s the main thing I want people to understand."
   The "windshield death" case is extraordinary in one regard: It forces us to look at ourselves and ask hard questions.
   Like Chante Mallard, how often have we been less-than-fully sober when taking the wheel of a car? How scared would we be if we had an accident? How tempted would we be to cover it up if we thought we could get away with doing so?
   Keeping Gregory Biggs in mind, how different is a person in a homeless shelter from us? What would we do and how would we feel if we lost our jobs and our homes? What if we became mentally ill?
   The statistics show that many of us would answer "yes" to the Chante Mallard questions, and many of us will have life challenges similar to Gregory Biggs’.
   But the more intangible tragedy of the "windshield death" case is that by this time next month, most of us will have forgotten about it.
Judy Shepps Battle is a New Jersey resident, addictions specialist, consultant and freelance writer. She can be reached by e-mail at [email protected] Additional information on this and other topics can be found at her Web site at www.writeaction.com.