by Paige Pfleger, WPLN/Nashville Public Radio, and Stacy Kranitz, a ProPublica unique.
This account describes an attempted murder in a domestic violence case.
This content was produced in collaboration with WPLN/Nashville Public Radio for ProPublica’s Regional Reporting Network. Sign up for Letters to find stories like this one as soon as they are published.
Jade Peters was unsure of where to turn for assistance before remote Scott County reformed into a model for addressing domestic crime. Her ex-boyfriend was stalking her and threatened to kill another people who talked to her.
She did n’t believe the justice system would take her seriously, even though she knew he had a gun.
If you or someone you know needs help, here’s a guide on how to manage Tennessee’s fairness system for domestic violence victims.
When Peters saw one approaching one evening in 2009, she was stepping up her steps. As he got better, she realized it was her ex-boyfriend. She attempted to activate her vehicles alarms while fumbling with her keys.
He pulled his finger out of his pocket. The display of a gunfire entered the shadow as a surprisingly brilliant light.
The shot tore through Peters ‘ mouth and throat, with fragments lodging in her back. She recalls avoiding her reflection in the mirror when she was able to drag herself into her home to get help and not wanting to see the harm the shot had caused.
Jade Peters at her house in Scott County, where she was shot by an ex-boyfriend. Peters became a lawyer and represented survivors of domestic violence after her treatment.
A few years ago, Scott County decided that the system that Peters and other domestic violence victims across the state contended with was n’t good enough. Women are frequently killed by men in Tennessee, with the majority of deaths being committed with a weapon. However, over the years, the state has loosened its gun laws, making it easier for people to get and carry firearms. WPLN and ProPublica found that those rules are rarely enforced despite the state’s ban on domestic abusers and those with criminal convictions.
Tucked into the Eastern hills along the Kentucky borders, Scott County recognized that patients in rural areas face unique obstacles. Some things are available, besides tents for domestic violence. Law enforcement and the courts generally lack staff and training. Additionally, sentiments toward weapons and domestic violence may influence soldiers and judges more reluctant to remove weapons from abusers.
The state fully overhauled the way it handles domestic violence cases. The Family Justice Center is the new home of the majority of the private violence-related organizations. It then started one of the state’s only court programs entirely dedicated to handling domestic violence cases.
Importantly, the state improved their laws to prevent the possession of firearms by those who are facing domestic violence charges or security orders.
Peters said that if the measures had existed when she needed them, she would have known where to get help. She said,” It would have changed.”
Separating dangerous persons from their artillery is an issue that much of the nation grapples with. However, in Tennessee, according to Heather Herrmann, the director of a nationwide study of domestic violence homicides, “it’s yet more inconsistent in these rural communities.” She said in rural areas, courts are more likely to consider things like whether accused offenders hunt or have jobs that require weapons.
Oneida, Tennessee, one of Scott County’s little towns, is the first picture. Next image: The Scott County Family Justice Center brings up the district attorney’s office, emergency housing, a domestic violence officer and other resources so patients only have to make one stop to get help.
Judge Mike Hinson, for instance, said protecting gun rights was a significant factor in his decisions in rural Lewis County, Middle Tennessee. It can be hard to justify signing an order of protection — which can bar someone from coming near the victim, contacting them or having firearms — if a gun was n’t involved in the domestic violence incident, he said.
Because they do have a right to protect themselves, and they do have a right to obtain employment, Hinson said, “it’s those close cases where I try to strike a balance between a person’s rights.” ” That’s the tougher balance”.
He acknowledged that he sometimes strikes a balance not right.
Even if a judge orders someone to give up their guns, there’s a glaring gap in Tennessee’s system. Instead of a licensed firearms dealer or a law enforcement agency, it is one of about a dozen states that permit a person to give their gun to a friend or relative. And it does n’t require that the person be identified to the court. According to domestic violence victims ‘ advocates, in such cases, someone could claim to have given up their guns but still be able to access them.
Scott County saw that gap and decided to change its firearms form, requiring abusers to name the person who is holding their guns and list their address. That person must submit a signed authorization to possess the weapons. Scott is the only one of Tennessee’s 95 counties that has done this, victim advocates say. The Tennessee Administrative Office of the Courts claims that the legislature would need to change the form to the statewide format.
It’s difficult to measure Scott County’s success because the numbers are so small. However, according to data from the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, domestic violence incidents in Scott County have decreased by more than half, from nearly 250 in 2009 to less than 100 on average in recent years, compared to the state’s average of less than 100. Victims are seeking protection orders from the courts more than they did before the reforms — a sign that there’s more trust in the system, victim advocates say. Additionally, many more requests are being granted.
Domestic violence pamphlets at the Scott County Family Justice Center” Some People, It Was Just a Bad Day”
Tennessee’s rural area has n’t yet followed Scott’s example. And throughout the state, old attitudes prevail. A region of rolling hills and cropland on the other side of Nashville from Scott County, where guns and hunting are commonplace.
This area of Middle Tennessee is represented in Congress by Rep. Andy Ogles, a Republican who in 2021 sent out a Christmas card of his family holding guns. Ogles has since told reporters he regrets the card but has n’t responded to calls or emails from WPLN and ProPublica. Jason Aldean’s controversial music video,” Try That in a Small Town”, was filmed at a courthouse in the area and served as an anthem of old-school, small-town values that critics said was a racist rallying cry for vigilante justice and gun violence. The song and video have been defended by Aldean.
That culture permeates all the way up the justice system to judges, Herrmann said.
Judges are present when there is a particularly isolated community, a particularly gun-focused community, and frequently a community that may have some misconceptions or stereotyping about domestic violence and what it means, she said.
Judges in Tennessee have an incredible amount of power in how they run their courtrooms, which can greatly affect domestic violence cases. Judges may turn their own ideas about domestic violence, which research favors defendants, on the basis of a case lacking obvious physical evidence of abuse.
Hinson said he sees himself as a representative for the culture of Lewis County. One of the largest collections of mounted trophy heads in North America can be proudly found in the county. The old courthouse has a bullet hole from when a man going through a divorce brought a gun to confront his wife. The new courthouse is directly opposite a store that advertises” we sell ammo.” With only about 12, 500 residents, the county is the type of place where most people know each other, which can make domestic violence cases difficult.
One of the largest collections of mounted trophy heads in North America is housed at the Hohenwald Lewis County Museum of Natural History. Downtown Hohenwald, where the Lewis County Justice Center is located
Hinson, a Lewis County native with icy blue eyes and gray hair, has been the subject of many of those cases since 2014.
Some folks around Lewis County call him” the people’s judge”: He often wears a quarter-zip sweater or a button-down shirt in court instead of a judicial robe. And he speaks clearly, as if speaking to a friend wearing a jailhouse jumpsuit at the store.
Hinson’s casual attitude and off-the-cuff remarks caused him to be suspended by the Administrative Office of the Courts ‘ Board of Judicial Conduct in 2021. The board claimed in one instance that he made a “demeaning” comment to the couple and that another judge would “wade through the bullshit” in their divorce. He later apologized for the remark.
Hinson said he occasionally finds the law restrictive and favors his own approach. Once, that resulted in him dismissing hundreds of traffic tickets because he thought the community was being overly targeted. Some residents liked him, but Tennessee Highway Patrol did n’t, and neither did he.
” I do n’t believe the law was made for us to worship”, Hinson said. The law is a tool, in my opinion.
Judge Mike Hinson grew up in rural Lewis County, Tennessee. He claims that the location has influenced both how he runs his courtroom.
That applies to the domestic violence cases he sees in his courtroom, which, he said, often result from addiction. Hinson describes the struggle as being personal. He said he had a drinking problem and anger issues that ended his last marriage — something he shares with the men who appear before him in court.
Hinson argued that” some people may need some a little anger management.” ” Some people, it was just a bad day and the only time it’s ever happened”.
Hinson added that he believes some women abuse protection orders to win custody battles or divorces.
” This is stuff that we hear from every corner of the state”, Herrmann said. People talk in particular these small towns. They know what the judge has said to other people. They are aware of the progress of other people’s cases.
” I’m Gonna Take His Side”
Some victims who went to Lewis County Court claimed that because of Hinson’s compassion for the men, they felt dismissed or treated unfairly. Multiple victims asked not to be named because it’s a small community and they worried it could affect their cases. Hinson’s court was also attended by ProPublica and WPLN.
In February, Hinson admonished a woman who sought a protection order against her ex-boyfriend after he fired a gun into the ceiling during an argument. Hinson placed the man under a no-contact order without requiring him to surrender his firearms, instead of granting the protection order.
He told the man he could n’t reach out to the woman, but he also told the woman her ex-boyfriend would n’t be held responsible if she contacted him first and he replied. Hinson said,” I’m going to take his side if that occurs.” And he urged her not to do what some women do, reaching out to their partners after leaving court to work out their problems. He told her,” We’re not going to be doing that,” he said.
A month later, another woman in Hinson’s court seemed surprised by the way the judge spoke to her estranged husband after he assaulted her. Hinson appeared to try to inspire her husband by revealing that his wife thought he was a “great guy” rather than chastising him for his actions.
The woman, sitting in the courtroom that day, leaned over to a victim’s advocate and said,” I never said that”.
The New System in Scott County
About 200 miles away, as the early morning fog cleared over the Scott County Justice Center in May, men slowly trickled into the courtroom under a sign in Greek that translates roughly to” a man’s character is his fate”. As they searched for seats among the wooden benches, their work boots prodded on the floor.
” All rise”, the bailiff said. The domestic violence court is currently closed.
First image: A domestic violence hearing in Scott County. Second image: A woman explains to Judge Scarlett Ellis why she requested a protection order in a case involving domestic violence.
The men had already been convicted of domestic violence or were subject to protection orders. They were present so that Judge Scarlett Ellis could check whether they were up to date with their probation hearings and other issues involving mental health and addiction treatment.
She looked up over her glasses with a kind smile at the group of men in front of her, the way a teacher might greet her class. Then they each stood before her. Ellis peppered them with questions: How has therapy been going? Have you avoided speaking with the victim? What have you learned in batterers intervention class?
Ellis ‘ approach is encouraging but not lenient. When it’s clear that the men before her have made strides toward changing their behaviors, she does n’t hesitate to tell them. As he responded to her questions with” Yes, ma’am” and” No, ma’am,” a man stood at the podium with his hands clasped behind his back. He had an interview later that day for a better-paying job, he told her.
She told him,” You’ve completely changed your life. ” I can see it. I am able to.
Ellis can use her discretion to have those who are doing well come to court less often. However, she has the option of extending their probation or placing them in jail if they do n’t.
Later in the day, when victims came to the domestic violence court for new cases to be heard, they were ushered by a court advocate into a back room to keep them separate from the men they say abused them. One of the court’s numerous victim-centered adjustments is this. When their protection order hearing comes up, the victim stands at one podium, the offender at another, with the court advocate and a sheriff’s deputy between them.
To safeguard the privacy of the victims, domestic violence court is held on a different day than other cases.
” I was already embarrassed with what all had happened and being assaulted and then to have to be in a room with people who had done drugs and stole from others was just more embarrassing and belittling”, one person wrote in a community needs assessment that was conducted before the court was created.
In the end, a judge’s enforcement of an order is only as effective as its enforcement, which Scott County has attempted to address. Like many rural counties, the Scott County Sheriff’s Department is small and understaffed. However, it has a dedicated victim-assistance domestic violence officer.
” I’m their voice”, Deputy Danielle Gayheart said in a raspy twang. She claimed that by obtaining the order of protection, they “have done their side of it.”
First image: Ellis presides over the domestic violence court in Scott County. The Scott County Sheriff’s Department employs Deputy Danielle Gayheart as a domestic violence officer.
Gayheart has listened to jailhouse phone calls to see if an abuser was contacting a victim. She also checks Twitter. Once, a man posted a picture of himself hunting deer with a gun. When she notices those things, she will prosecute those who violate protection orders.
” When it comes to anything like that, I’m your girl”, she said.
” We Repeat What We Do n’t Repair,” means” We Repeat.”
One of the keys to holding defendants accountable in Scott County is its batterers intervention program. Attending one in another rural county can be a lengthy drive, for instance, Lewis County’s closest one is more than an hour away. Judges in those places often wo n’t list it as a court condition because it’s too hard to get to. However, the courthouse is only ten minutes away from Scott County’s school.
During one class, six men crowded around folding tables pushed together in a square. On a white board next to the wall, the phrase” We repeat what we do n’t repair” was scrawled across.
Kathi Hall, a facilitator with Scott County’s batterers intervention program, said many of the men grew up in abusive households and have to unlearn behaviors they saw as kids.
They were guided by a facilitator to learn how to recognize and stop enraging their bodies before hurling it at someone else. Feeling hot-headed? Try freezing your head in the freezer. Feeling restless? Go for a walk. Clenching your teeth? Give a piece of gum a chop. Many of the men are still in the relationships that put them in court, so creating these plans is urgent.
The men were not shy about taking part despite the court-ordered 26-week course.
” I’m not real good at showing my feelings”, one man said. ” I’ve never been,” he said. You know, I was raised —”
Another chimed in from across the table,” You do n’t wear your feelings on your sleeve.”
” That’s right”, the first man said. You know, I was taught that you were a man growing up. You’re not supposed to show that because nobody gives a shit. You are supposed to possess that strength.
Attendees gather around tables at the batterers intervention program in Scott County. The court required the men to attend the class.
Programs like this one have led to change, according to Peters. Her ex-boyfriend admitted to attempted murder and received a prison sentence following the shooting. Peters recovered from her wounds and went back to school to become a lawyer, representing clients in Ellis ‘ domestic violence court.
She explained that Scott County men are aware of the serious consequences that a domestic violence charge can carry.
” Men are somewhat afraid of that”, Peters said. They are well aware that you could lose many of your rights, receive programs, and be sentenced to court appearances, and be held responsible for the consequences.
She said that empowerment for victims and accountability for offenders has had an impact beyond just the court program — the system change has led to broader cultural change in Scott County.
” There are still women who are in bad circumstances,” Peters said. ” It’s just that now there’s more help for them”.
Mariam Elba conducted research.
