
To some, the derailed, viral hearing was the story of a hero prosecutor and an only-during-a-pandemic problem: a Zoom proceeding cut short as it became clear that a defendant was tuning in from the apartment of his alleged victim.
“I’m extremely scared for her safety,” the prosecutor said in a clip viewed more than 1 million times on YouTube before it was taken down.
To advocates, however, the moment was a grim window into the intimidation that domestic violence victims face constantly. And to Mary Lindsey, the complainant, the hearing from earlier this month was a new trauma, as her struggle to answer questions about alleged violence from her then-boyfriend became headlines.
“I know everybody thinks I’m an idiot for staying in the relationship,” said Lindsey, 31, tearful and struggling to speak at times in a Wednesday interview after her night shift as a waitress. She said she had looked through the comments on news articles: “A lot of people are saying, well, it’s her fault.”
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“It was just really frustrating to me that everyone was watching,” she said. The video even has her home address — “they made me say it twice.”
When the coronavirus pandemic shuttered courthouses, officials scrambled to keep their proceedings open to the public, turning to live streams and Zoom calls uploaded to YouTube. Different courts have taken different approaches, but in many places, mundane proceedings have never been so widely accessible and primed for sharing, and that has created a trade-off between transparency and privacy. Some groups are pushing for less exposure at a time when many domestic violence victims are facing new dangers during the pandemic — cooped up at home, less likely to get help or be seen, more dependent than ever on partners.
“It is definitely possible to balance the competing interests of privacy and access, and we have suggested that courts stream hearings, then immediately take them down at the conclusion of the hearing. … Unfortunately, that isn’t what has been happening,” said Johanna Kononen, an attorney with the Michigan Coalition to End Domestic and Sexual Violence.
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The Washington Post could not reach 21-year-old Coby Harris, who is charged with assaulting Lindsey with the intent to “commit great bodily harm less than the crime of murder.” His lawyer did not respond to multiple calls and emails requesting comment, and online court records do not show a plea yet for the assault charge.
The case exploded into public view after a Zoom hearing March 2 that began with routine questions. With Harris and Lindsey tuning in from separate cameras, St. Joseph County prosecutor Deborah Davis asked Lindsey to state her address in Sturgis, Mich., a city of about 10,000 near the Indiana border.
Lindsey grew reluctant, however, as Davis asked what happened at Lindsey’s apartment the night of Feb. 9. The woman confirmed that she and her then-boyfriend had “argued” and that the police had arrived but offered few details about why.
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“Um, because the police were called, they came here,” she said when pressed.
“Who called the police?” Davis said.
“Um, I mean, technically me.”
She was acutely aware, she said later in an interview, of Harris — sitting out of sight but not out of mind, in her daughter’s bedroom. Released from jail last month as his case was pending, Harris had come back to the apartment they shared, Lindsey said, in violation of no-contact orders. She said he acted like Feb. 9 was nothing and wanted her to say the same.
“You know nothing happened,” she said he told her. Speaking to The Washington Post, she declined to go into details of that night, saying only that Harris left her with bruises.
Court documents released to The Post also give little information beyond stating that Harris has been previously convicted of assault.
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Lindsey said she had never told Harris she called authorities Feb. 9. Then came the court hearing.
“I didn’t want him to be mad at me … and then I also didn’t want to lie like he told me to,” she said. She thought authorities were on to the fact that Harris was back in her apartment, she said. Family had tipped them off, she said, and then police were knocking outside as she tried to answer questions.
The proceedings came to a halt minutes in as the prosecutor said that something was amiss.
“Your Honor, I have reason to believe that the defendant is in the same apartment as the complaining witness right now, and I’m extremely scared for her safety and the fact that she’s looking off to the side and he’s moving around,” Davis said. “I want some confirmation that she is safe before we continue.”
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St. Joseph County District Judge Jeffrey Middleton ordered the defendant to walk outside and show him the number on the home from which he was Zooming.
Speaking in front of a nondescript white wall, Harris did not move.
“I don’t even think this phone has the charge for that,” Harris said. “I’m at like 2 percent right now; I’m hooked up to this wall charger right here.”
“The police are at Miss Lindsey’s apartment right now,” Davis told the virtual courtroom. “Knocking on the door.”
Lindsey got up to answer. “Take your phone with you, so that I know you’re okay,” Davis said, eventually burying her face in her hand as Harris protested that “me and Mary both don’t want the no-contact.” The judge declared the situation unprecedented.
“This is an issue we didn’t have when we had live court,” Middleton said as the hearing unraveled. “This is the first time to my knowledge, if he is in the same venue, that this has occurred.”
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“It’s the first time I ever had anybody sitting in the next room, potentially intimidating a witness,” the judge said later.
Harris was taken into custody and his bond was canceled, according to court records. The county prosecutor’s office did not immediately respond to The Post on Thursday, and Davis declined to comment when reached Wednesday evening, citing the pending case.
As grateful as Lindsey is that police swooped in during the hearing — “so I didn’t have to sit there and lie” — she says she mostly wishes it never happened, at least in its viral form. She said she told prosecutors she did not want to participate, knowing that she would be on display.
“I just had this feeling that something bad was going to happen,” Lindsey said.
As video of the hearing exploded online and reporters called, Middleton said he asked people to leave out Lindsey’s name and blur her face. By Thursday, the video was removed from the YouTube channel where Middleton streams official proceedings.
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But it was too late.
“There is some purpose to allowing people to view court proceedings, but there are real people involved here, and this thing just sort of took on a life of its own,” Middleton said in an interview. Going forward, he said, he probably will post hearing recordings for only a short time.
Many hearing videos from elsewhere in Michigan, stretching back months, remain online, according to the Michigan Coalition to End Domestic and Sexual Violence. The group says it has contacted officials with concerns about victim privacy but got only one county to change its practices and remove videos after 24 hours.
The fact that Lindsey’s hearing was posted online led to “a stunning awareness-raising moment in America,” said Casey Gwinn, president of Alliance for Hope International, a nonprofit organization that helps victims of domestic violence and sexual assault.
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“The positive side is that the whole world gets to see what domestic violence victims live with day in and day out,” Gwinn said. “Because if you were to say, what percentage of domestic violence cases involve intimidation like this, I would say 100 percent — just that you don’t get to see it.”
But he also thinks that Lindsey’s privacy was violated, in a case that is not confidential but that in pre-pandemic times would never have been broadcast to the world.
“If this was a real court hearing in a real courtroom, there would be two people in the courtroom. There wouldn’t be 800,000 views for this particular survivor on this particular day,” Gwinn said.
Meg Garvin, executive director of the National Crime Victim Law Institute, emphasized that “open courts” language in state and federal constitutions does not mean hearings must be live-streamed, especially when sensitive personal information is at stake.
“The balance of rights under the law absolutely does not require this,” she said.
Lindsey has started an online fundraiser that she says will help her move out of the area and get good therapy. “I want my fundraiser to be able to raise awareness on what a victim goes through, the reasons they stay,” Lindsey wrote on Facebook.
The cover photo, she said, is a picture of her 4-year-old daughter, who had started asking why her mom was crying all the time. Lindsey said she put her daughter in the care of family after a nasty fight in December.
But she loved Harris, she said.
Strangers have been messaging her and friend-requesting her on Facebook, she said, sharing similar stories. Many people commenting online are supportive. But her voice started to break again when she turned to “all these people who have no clue."
“People think it’s clear cut," she said. "Why wouldn’t you just leave? It’s just so much more complicated than that.”
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