Freezing People is (Not) Easy (20 page)

The Offense

We arrived at court when the jurors were settling in. Nothern struggled to his crutches and began, greeting the jury with a sincere smile. With that slow Southern lilt, he called his first witness, Mr. Troy Flower. He was an effeminate and seemingly nice young fellow, but I sat there paranoid and mostly confused about what he would say.

He testified that he had been a friend of the Harringtons for many years and was present when the brothers researched cryonics. They had contacted CSC, received information on the procedures, and were very excited about the hope it gave them to preserve their mother. They had purchased Professor Ettinger's book,
The Prospect of Immortality,
and my book,
We Froze the First Man.
He claimed he was present when the Harrington brothers made the business deal for their mother's suspension, and that it wasn't a donation.

“Mr. Nelson claimed he could bring Mrs. Harrington back to life just as soon as they could cure her cancer,” Flower said. “He swore that ten thousand dollars was the total cost, and that's all there was to it.” That was the end of Nothern's questioning.

It was now Winterbotham's turn to cross-examine Mr. Flower. He first asked, “How many times have you met Mr. Nelson?” Flower squirmed a bit, admitting he had never actually met me.

“Well, then,” Winterbotham asked, “you never did actually hear Mr. Nelson speak to the Harrington brothers with your own two ears, did you?”

“Well, they told me exactly what Mr. Nelson promised and—”

“Hold on, Mr. Flower, this testimony is hearsay. You, of your own knowledge, know absolutely nothing about these discussions, do you, sir? And more important, your attorneys know that and had no business putting you on the stand other than to try and corrupt the integrity of these proceedings.”

Flower looked blank, clueless as to how to answer.

“No further questions, sir.”

Winterbotham later explained to me that Flower was just a ploy to set the stage for their first real witness, Terry Harrington. His entrance appeared as grand as a Broadway show. He flounced to the witness stand wearing a purple velvet cape that swung over the wooden divider and a silky, clinging shirt and purple pants. His hair was long and flowing. The jury loved it; they had been expecting a boring trial, not theater.

He had truly loved his mother, of that I was certain. Nothern took Terry step by step through the first moment he heard about cryonics to the reading of Ettinger and my books to the moment they placed the first call to CSC. Terry said he reached an answering service and left a message.

“Mr. Nelson called back in about twenty minutes. I explained that my mother was close to death; I guessed about two to four weeks. Mr. Nelson explained the procedures and the expense. He said ten thousand dollars would cover everything. He never mentioned a donation. If I wanted to proceed with my mother's suspension, we needed to make preparations and find a cooperating mortuary.”

Hearing his testimony, I sighed. There was just enough truth mixed in with the lies and distortion to make his version seem plausible.

“He suggested he could come to Des Moines and complete the necessary arrangements. Mr. Nelson then came to Iowa and stayed about four days so that we could sign the paperwork and make all the preparations for my mother's freezing.”

Nothern leaned on the jury box for support. He was angled so that when Terry spoke, the jury could see Terry's emotions play out on his expressive face. “You say you signed all the paperwork. Could you tell me exactly what you signed, and do you have any copies of what you signed?”

“I have no idea what I signed. I was so distraught I could not think clearly. And Mr. Nelson never gave me copies of what I signed. He promised he would send me copies, but he never did.”

I scribbled a question on Winterbotham's yellow pad and poked it at his face, hoping he could decipher my shorthand.

“So you believed that once your mother arrived in California, your responsibility was over until the day your mother came walking back into your life even better than when she left?”

Terry pulled out a purple handkerchief and dabbed his eyes. “That is exactly correct, sir.”

“Your witness, Mr. Winterbotham.”

Winterbotham took a few minutes before he began his cross-­examination. I think he wanted to raise the tension a little more. Finally he began. “Mr. Harrington, when Mr. Nelson arrived in Iowa, where did he stay?”

“At my home.”

“So you had a leisurely amount of time to discuss matters and to talk. I mean, you were not under any kind of time restraint, is that correct?”

Terry nodded. “That's right.”

“So in your discussions with Mr. Nelson, are you telling us that the question of donations never came up? You're telling this jury that this was just like any other purchase, maybe like buying a car or a boat, nothing unusual, just an ordinary business deal. Right?”

“It was not really anything unusual.”

Winterbotham feigned exaggerated surprise for the jury's benefit. “Your mother is dying and you want to freeze her. By your own testimony, you were feeling so very distraught, and now you're saying it wasn't anything unusual?”

“Objection, counsel is badgering the witness.”

Winterbotham spun toward Nothern. “I'd like to hear him answer the question.”

“Sustained,” said the judge, which ended the debate.

Winterbotham groaned and stuck out his lower lip. “Mr. Harrington, since you claim this was just an ordinary purchase of a service, would it be fair to refer to this transaction as a service agreement?”

Terry flounced his hair. “I think that would be fair.”

“Then as you would receive in any ordinary purchase of a service agreement, would you show me a copy of that service agreement that you and your brother signed?”

“We never got a copy of that agreement. I already said that. Mr. Nelson promised to send me a copy of that agreement but never did.”

I rolled my eyes at his response. Of course I had sent it.

“Would you then explain to me, Mr. Harrington, why I have here in my hand documents signed by you and your brother donating your mother's body and ten thousand dollars to the Cryonics Society of California?”

“I have no idea what I signed. I was so confused and distraught, I have no idea what those documents might have said. I am, however, positive that I would never donate my mother's body to anyone.” Terry leaned forward and spoke louder. “Don't you understand? She's my mother!”

“I remind you, Mr. Harrington, you are under oath here today.”

The plaintiffs' lawyer jumped up. “Objection!”

“Sustained,” said the judge.

Winterbotham continued. “Up until the time of the accident at the CSC facility, would you agree that the service offered by CSC was adequate? Would you agree Mr. Nelson made every effort to comply with your wishes? Didn't the CSC make it possible for your family and friends from Iowa to see your mother in a memorial service after being frozen in dry ice for almost two years?”

“They did the best they could, I suppose.”

“After the accident at Chatsworth, did Mr. Nelson come and see you at the airport in Des Moines?”

“Yes.”

“Were you alone?”

“No, I was with my wife.”

“Where did you meet Mr. Nelson?”

“We met at the gate and then went to a restaurant at the airport.”

“Did Mr. Nelson tell you about the capsule failure at the CSC facility?”

“He may have mentioned it.”

“Well, Mr. Harrington, I would think that you would remember something of this importance; either he did or he didn't mention it. I mean it wasn't as if he was just flying in by jumbo jet and decided to stop for a cup of coffee. It was obviously a very serious matter for him to go through the personal expense and effort to fly to Des Moines to talk to you face to face. I mean, if it wasn't very important, he could have just telephoned you, correct?”

“Well, yes, he did say there was a problem at the facility, something about the capsule failing for a few days. But I told him to just start it up again and keep on going. I have enormous faith in the future of science.”

“Mr. Harrington, have you ever read any cryonics promotional material?”

“Yes. Mr. Nelson sent a packet to me prior to his arrival in Iowa.”

“Did you read the material he sent you?”

“Yes, I looked at it briefly. I had already decided to freeze my mother, so I didn't feel the need to read every word.”

“How about your brother? Wasn't he interested enough to read this unique material, to understand the arrangements surrounding this life-saving experiment for your mother? Are you sure, Mr. Harrington, that your self-serving loss of memory is not connected to your effort to extract a large financial settlement out of this lawsuit?”

“Objection! Your Honor, counsel is extremely argumentative,” said Nothern.

“Sustained.”

Winterbotham scowled. Worse still, the judge and jury saw it.

“So, Mr. Harrington, do I understand you correctly that even in the face of knowing all the other cryonics suspended patients in California are acknowledged medical donors, that all the frozen patients throughout the country are medical donors, and that no cryonics organization anywhere in the world will accept a patient for cryonic suspension unless through donation, you still claim you never heard about the medical donor requirement in order to be a candidate for becoming a cryonic suspension patient?”

“That's right; no one ever mentioned that.”

I was thrilled and had to sit on my hands so that I wouldn't show my giddiness.
Go on, hang yourselves.
All the documentation was on our side.

“I have no more questions, Your Honor.”

The next witness was Dennis Harrington. Dennis was muscular; he owned and taught at a karate school. He was a soft-spoken man who had also loved his mother.

Dennis stuck to the script and parroted everything his brother Terry had said. He added that he had wondered how CSC would be capable of bringing his mother back to life; it sounded very expensive. “Mr. Nelson said that with any luck, we should have her back in a few years.”

Winterbotham raised his eyebrows and inched forward, poised for attack. “That's odd. Wasn't it stated earlier that Mr. Nelson promised to pay for the liquid nitrogen for a thousand years? So which is it—a few years or a thousand years?”

Dennis looked to his brother and, not receiving any help, merely shrugged.

“Mr. Harrington, why did you and your brother have your father removed from his grave in Iowa?”

“Mr. Nelson said it might even be possible to bring him back too.”

“Yes, but your father had been dead for two years, autopsied, and embalmed.”

“Mr. Nelson said there might be a few cells alive, and if we could find a couple we might be able to clone them.”

I coughed to stifle a laugh. That assertion was so absurd, I couldn't comprehend how anyone could possibly believe it. I looked at the jury and saw them enraptured by his testimony. Sickening dread washed over me when I realized they believed him. This was not a good omen.

“Was your father frozen after he was delivered to the CSC storage vault?”

“No, he was not.”

“Did they look for any
alive
cells?”

“No, they didn't.”

“How much did it cost to transfer your father to your mother's cemetery?”

“It was three thousand dollars.”

“And whom was the money paid to?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, Mr. Harrington, I have a record here that shows that Terry and you paid three thousand dollars for mortuary services, which covered the removal from the ground in Iowa and the flight to California. There was no other purpose than to keep both of your parents at the same burial site.”

Nothern stood up. “Is there a question forthcoming?”

Winterbotham turned and glared at him but continued. “Do you expect this jury to believe that Mr. Nelson actually suggested that science could revive your father
after he'd been autopsied?
And more important, Mr. Harrington, do you think anyone here today believes that even you could believe such nonsense could ever be possible?”

Dennis pointed a finger at me. “He made me believe it.”

“Mr. Harrington, were you aware that Mr. Nelson gave a lecture to a group of doctors at the Iowa Memorial Hospital? The title of the talk was ‘Death and the Dying Patient' and was arranged by your brother. He discussed how cryonics stalls the dying process after today's doctors have declared the patient legally dead. Then the CSC brings the patient far into the future for help not yet possible by today's medical science.”

“I don't remember that talk exactly.”

“You don't remember that cryonics was explained to those doctors exactly as Mr. Nelson explained it to you—as an all-volunteer, medical-donation enterprise whose idea was slowly spreading all across the country?”

“No, sir, I don't remember that.”

“Did you know that Mr. Nelson has been on countless radio and television shows? He's explained that suspended animation is not guaranteed in any way to be successful. If someone is buried or cremated, only then can we be certain of their future.”

Dennis responded with a blank stare.

“No more questions.”

As Dennis exited the witness stand, I watched him intently, wondering how he could expect anyone to believe such lies.

All of a sudden I heard a
pssst.
I looked over to see Winterbotham's head down on the table. He was asleep again, snoring and now drooling! I was mortified. Joseph Klockgether shook Winterbotham's lapels, and I gave him sharp jabs with my elbows. The jury was laughing their collective ass off at him and, consequently, at me. The judge stared in disbelief and then banged the gavel for the bailiffs to remove the jury.