John Bronson

This story won third place for the Society of Professional Journalists’ Mark of Excellence Award for general news writing in region one, which includes New England, New York, New Jersey and Eastern Pennsylvania. It was published in the USM Free Press on September 22, 2003.

Dorm attack underscores security limitations

When the brick smashed into his head, Joe Frechette said, “it was like if someone unplugged me.” Frechette, a senior media studies major, was standing outside Portland Hall on Congress Street when an unidentified assailant threw the large red brick with enough force to knock Frechette to the ground and to break a window that lay beyond.

As Frechette fell, the brick punched through a plate glass window and came to rest on the floor of the building’s main lobby. Lying prone on the sidewalk, Frechette could see someone walking slowly away, still yelling at him.

Frechette regained his feet and entered Portland Hall under his own power. He told the USM Police Officer on duty which way his attacker had gone, but the officer couldn’t pursue the suspect because USM Police have jurisdiction only on property that the university owns or controls. So, even though the brick landed on university property, the officer on duty did not have the authority to do police work outside of Portland Hall. USM Police’s only recourse was to call the Portland Police and wait. By the time they did arrive, though, the suspect was long gone, and there was little left for the Police to investigate.

USM Police Chief Lisa Beecher said that the current jurisdiction laws have been an issue even before the August 1 incident. “It’s an issue we’re working on as we speak,” she said. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense that we can’t respond to students and faculty who are just across the lines.” Beecher has been trying to secure different rules at the State legislature and with the Board of Trustees since before the event at Portland Hall brought the issue to light this summer. She says that USM’s many campuses, as well as the large commuter population, demand more flexible Police coverage. Until new guidelines are put in place, though, USM Police are helpless to do anything for students who need help while off school property, including the sidewalk in front of Portland Hall.

There is very little information available regarding the attack outside Portland Hall. It is not even certain how many people were witnesses. Frechette says that there was a group of students from the Maine College of Arts’ early college program nearby. These are high school students that attend the school for several weeks over the summer, and who have long since gone back to their homes, throughout the country.

Frechette is disappointed with the actions of the Police that night.

“They were asking me for a profile and if I wanted to press charges,” he said. “I was still confused. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. And they didn’t try to get everyone together to take a composite.”

The attack occurred on the night of August 1st and the suspect is still at large.

Frechette says that Portland Hall’s Residence Hall Coordinator, Joy Britting, said she had heard about a suspicious person wielding a brick earlier in the day on August 1st, but he doesn’t know if she has reported this information to the authorities. Britting was reluctant to answer any questions, she said, because the case was still under investigation. USM Police Investigator Ronald Saindon was able to provide a general description of the event, but could say little else. He does have leads and a suspect. He also said that a suspect, if arrested, would face criminal mischief and assault charges. As of press time, no arrests have been made.

Bronson news writing journalism, news

I wrote this story for the USM Free Press on May 3, 2004. Read the original here.

USM soldier’s funeral held on campus

Hundreds gather in Portland’s Sullivan Gym to remember a fallen student

Hushed conversation in Portland’s Sullivan Gym lapsed suddenly into silence as Lavinia Gelineau appeared at the back of the room. She advanced slowly on the arm of a man in a green ceremonial U.S. Army uniform. Her slow progress past the crowded folding chairs tragically evoked a bride’s wedding march – a trip she made two years ago in Romania, her home country. Lavinia’s entrance signalled the beginning of her husband’s funeral. Christopher Gelineau, an Army Specialist in the 133rd Engineer Battalian of the Maine Army National Guard, died in Iraq on Tuesday, April 20 when a roadside bomb exploded under his humvee. The crowd, about 600 in all, including a detachment of identically dressed Army soldiers in the stands, rose spontaneously to its feet.

Lavinia took her seat at the front of the crowd and the silence stretched on. In the gym’s parking lot, six Army soldiers approached the rear of a hearse in lockstep. Not far away, USM Police’s Timothy Farr stood at attention by his cruiser. As the six men stepped haltingly back bearing the coffin, he saluted with the rest of the Police and Army personnel who stood by, a rare and heartbreaking sight on the USM campus.

The men pushed the coffin, which was draped with the U.S. Flag, on a wheeled platform to the front and someone placed a picture of Christopher on it. Lavinia , tall, gaunt and proud, approached and kissed the picture. Christopher’s funeral had started. Everyone sat down again.

USM President Pattenaude opened the ceremony with a short speech. He started by apologizing for the space, which, he said “was chosen more for its size than for its beauty.” He stood at the podium of a large temporary stage, bracketed by a painting of Jesus Christ on one side and by a priest, the priest’s assistant, and an Army chaplain on the other. Under the raised basketball hoops and industrial fans of the gym, he welcomed Christopher’s family and friends, Senators Olympia Snow and Susan Collins and Governer Baldacci, among others.

The Priest sung hymns and swung incense around the coffin and then at the crowd. The ablutions of the incense, he said, “unites us all in faith on this sad, yet honorable occasion.”

“Love and life are stronger than hate and death,” he said. “Chris lives on, and he is in service to the Lord.”

The Army chaplain then gave his own sermon, which was partly a defense of the controversial war that took Gelineau’s life.

“Some of those present may be anti-war,” he said. “But none of you are more anti-war than those of us in here Uniform today.

“The only thing good about war is its end,” he said. “The only thing I can think of that’s worse than war is standing by while evil proliferates.”

He went on to describe Gelineau’s service in glowing terms.

“There are some soldiers who choose to give so much more than the minimum required of them,” he said. “Christopher was such a soldier.”

Brigadeer General John Libby of the Maine National Guard commanded the soldiers present to stand ready for orders and officially awarded the bronze star and purple heart to Christopher, as well as a posthoumous promotion from Specialist to Sergeant. Governer Baldacci then presented the Maine Flag to Lavinia.

The service concluded with eulogies by Lavinia herself, Christopher’s mother, and Christopher’s uncle.

“I haven’t cried for three days. You must be carrying me,” Lavinia said. She sighed heavily into the microphone. The priest drew near and stood behind her. She described how she met Christopher at Portland Hall two summers ago, how they had fallen in love, and how they had chosen their song: Richard Marx’s “Right Here Waiting.” She said she hadn’t liked it at first because it was too sad, but it was the only song Christopher could play on the guitar. The audience laughed in the ceremony’s only moment of levity. Lavinia then accompanied herself on the guitar and sung the song in a surprisingly strong voice.

“I always sing when I’m sad,” she said. “I never got a chance to sing for you because you always made me happy.”

Christopher Gelineau was later buried with full military honors at Portland’s Evergreen Cemetary.

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