Juror Don Lemmens doesn’t approve of the demonstrators but says he’s “sort of for them”and he voted to acquit. spare time. Seven years ago, he and his wife signed their names to the local newspaper ad welcoming the plant to the county. Today he says: “I didn’t think much about it one way or the other then. I figured everyone knew what they were doing. I knew there were nuclear submarines operating and everything was all right with them. “I went up there thinking they were guilty and thinking it would be dull. Usually when I have to sit still for any time, I get sleepy because I work nights and sleep when I can. But I sat up there three days and never did get sleepy. It was interesting. “The two professors they had up there definitely changed my mind. What really stuck was what they said about the lowlevel radiation and cancer rates. I figured if those people had read up on it the way they seemed to and knew it was dangerous and cared that much about it, they have a right to do it.” James Barnard, the youngest juror, also voted for acquittal. A laborer at General Motors in Fort Worth and a part-time peanut farmer, he has two children and deep roots in the county as a grandson of one of the founders of Glen Rose. He says he was worried about the plant before but worries even more now: “I thought all we had to worry about was its blowing up. During the trial, the main thing that dawned on me was the radiation it put out every day. I’ve told a bunch of people about that.” At the end of the interview, he said softly that he was getting ready to move away from the county. A third juror who voted for acquittal is Don Lemmens, a quick, serious man who works for Western Electric and spends his spare time collecting Indian of local people at the proceedings and the refusal of the pronuclear local paper to cover them at all. Today, nearly six months later, the antinuclear victory is not so clear-cut. In September, county officials decided to retry the trespass cases, this time with prosecutorial help from a neighboring county judge who is also an attorney. Instead of holding one mass trial, the prosecution is insisting on 48 separate trials. The first of the retrials began several weeks ago, and it was obvious that the prosecutor, Johnson County. Judge Tommy Altaras, is working hard to get convictions. He is trying to put strict limits on the defense testimony, and he is using expert consultants provided by Texas Utilities. Altaras is making a strong pitch for community solidaritydefining the issue as local law and order versus the intrusion of crime and chaos from the outside world. At the first retrial, he was not beyond calling defendant Mavis Belisle a “middle-aged hippie.” Freas himself is being much tougher on the defense this time. He is limiting expert testimony to evidence concerning the technology of the Comanche Peak plant itself and the type of Westinghouse reactor it will use. He is refusing to admit evidence from Three Mile Island, and he has curtailed discussion of the hazards attending the full nuclear fuel cycle, from mining to waste disposal. The first retrial concluded November 26 with a complete turnabout from the result in June. It took the second jury less than a half-hour to decide that Mavis Belisle was guilty. And it took the jurors little more than five minutes to set the penalty$200, the maximum fine for a Class C misdemeanor. at June trial to acquit demonstrators who artifacts. He built the house his family lives in and he loves The land around it: “I don’t approve of them [the demonstrators],” he says, “but I’m sort of for them. I think they did some goodsome people learned a lot they didn’t know before.” The outcome of the trial and post-trial statements like these from at least four jurors caused the antinuclear forces to declare victory last June. A Dallas paper stated that: “Four jurors . . . did something none of their neighbors thought possible.” The widespread publicity the trial received in Dallas-Fort Worth seemed to balance the sparse attendance James Barnard, Glen Rose juror who voted trespassed at Comanche Peak, with son
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