Community Torn Over Doctor's Trial

THE FILING of charges against a well-known doctor in the death of a baby has stirred up strong feelings in Port Angeles, where residents are debating the prosecutor's decisions as well as the doctor's.

PORT ANGELES - What folks remember about Jan. 12 is the snow, how it fell in blinding swirls, how for several hours it made flying a helicopter impossible, that of all the nights this Godforsaken blizzard had to come here, it happened to be the night young Conor McInnerney showed up at Olympic Memorial Hospital without a pulse.

"If only it hadn't snowed that night," Peggy Romero says, sitting in the office of the church where she works.

On that winter day she needed 40 minutes to cross the Hood Canal floating bridge, a span that normally takes five minutes to cover. Without the snow, she would have arrived home early. Without the snow, 3-day-old Conor would have been taken by helicopter from the local hospital to Children's Hospital & Regional Medical Center in Seattle.

Without the snow, the call would not have been Dr. Eugene Turner's to make. And then, the doctor, a beloved and admired member of Romero's church, would be happily tending to his corn right now instead of contemplating the second-degree murder charge against him.

Turner has always been forthcoming about what he did the night of Jan. 12. No one argues that Conor arrived at the hospital without a heartbeat or breath, that efforts to resuscitate him initially

failed. But eventually the baby drew breaths on his own. And Turner admits he put his hand over the mouth and nose of the gasping infant. But Turner equates that breathing with a death twitch.

The announcement of the murder charge brought forward by Clallam County Prosecutor David Bruneau last week shocked those who know Turner well and hold him in high regard. And there are a lot of them - for starters, practically all of his patients. Others support the prosecutor's decision.

But the city is not split as much as it is splintered into varying clumps of people only shades apart in their judgment of what the doctor did.

"There are some who will back up Turner no matter what," said a teacher at Port Angeles High School who did not want to be identified. "He's very respected in the community. It's a small-enough place that I would say the majority of people know Dr. Turner.

"I think he acted out of compassion, but I don't think he should have done what he did. I'm of the belief that no matter how severe the situation, you don't take life. Doctors are supposed to save life, not take it."

Some believe the doctor did the right thing, however complex his decision was.

"He's the most patient person in the world," said Debbie Fredson, mother of three of Turner's patients. "I can't imagine him being impulsive. I don't have medical knowledge; he has.

"If it was my baby, I'd think a long, long time. I'd try to feel what he felt. I'd feel sorry for him that he had to make that decision. I'd wonder if I would have done the same thing if it was my child.

"There are so many gray areas. I don't think we can decide what's right and wrong. I don't think 12 jurors can decide what's right and wrong."

What Fredson is talking about is faith.

A political subplot

The subplot to the upcoming murder trial - a hearing is scheduled for Sept. 25 - is the November election, specifically the race for Clallam County prosecutor between Bruneau, a 16-year incumbent, and Christopher Shea, a lawyer in private practice who long ago was the county's second-ever public defender.

Twice, Bruneau has run unopposed. Four years ago he beat Alan Merson convincingly. The manager of Merson's campaign, coincidentally, was Norma Turner, wife of Eugene Turner.

If Shea beats Bruneau in November, he would assume control over Turner's case and could direct dismissal of charges.

"I don't know what I'd do," Shea said. "I have some ideas, but I don't know what I'd do.

"The system puts great faith on the discretion of the prosecutor. If Bruneau has a tendency, it's that if a guy doesn't plead out right away, he tends to start adding charges. It's not overcharging, but he tends to amend up in a case."

Described diplomatically as an aggressive prosecutor by his colleagues, Bruneau has been described as overzealous by some.

"He prosecutes things he doesn't need to prosecute," said local criminal-defense lawyer Karen Unger, whose office was once searched for evidence in a theft case on a search warrant issued by Bruneau.

"Dave is vindictive and he's petty," Unger said.

But others say he's an intelligent attorney.

"He's a serious adversary," said Seattle attorney John Henry Browne, who has taken cases in Clallam County. "He's a bit folksy but at the same time very intelligent. He doesn't seem to overstate things as a lot of prosecutors do."

Bruneau himself has said he won't comment on the case until the trial; neither will his staff.

Some are familiar with Bruneau's connection to Turner through the previous election campaign.

"I'm surprised he didn't farm it (the case) out," Shea said, "given the acrimonious relationship between the prosecution and Turner's wife. I'm not saying there's a vendetta, but there are always people who are going to think it's personal."

The question, said John Strait, a Seattle University law professor who specializes in legal ethics, is "does (Bruneau) have a conflict because of his self-interest that would interfere with his professional judgment?"

Strait also said the appearance of fairness is an issue.

In such a controversial case, "it would be better not to have it complicated by this unnecessary collateral issue," he said.

While a court might not find that this possible conflict of interest violates state rules of professional conduct binding attorneys, Strait said, "what I do know is it doesn't look good."

What jurors must weigh

Although the second-degree murder charge against Turner shocked many who live here, criminal-law experts say it's a reasonable one, given the apparent facts of the case.

If the baby was alive, and Turner intended him to die, then that would meet the requirement for a charge of second-degree murder, explained David Boerner, former King County chief deputy prosecutor and now a Seattle University law professor.

That charge differs from first-degree murder, which requires intent and premeditation. If Turner is convicted of second-degree murder, he could receive at least 10 years in prison.

To convict, prosecutors must prove that Turner intentionally caused the baby's death.

"From a tactical point of view, probably the prosecutor thinks he won't get the jury to go for first (-degree murder)," said John Junker, a professor of criminal law at the University of Washington.

But, he added, "if this were outside the context of a therapeutic setting, and somebody did this, it's pretty clear that a prosecutor would charge first-degree murder."

Lesser charges, which the jury could select, include two degrees of manslaughter. First-degree manslaughter requires the jury to find the doctor acted recklessly, that he knew his action had a substantial degree of risk of death, but that he did it anyway. Boerner likened it to shooting into a crowd, not intending to kill a particular person, but knowing the action had a high risk of causing someone's death.

Second-degree manslaughter requires "criminal negligence," which Boerner describes like this: "You weren't aware of the risk, but you should have been."

So, what happens if the jury comes to believe that, while the baby may have been legally alive, Turner believed he was already dead and believed that his act stopped only what he has termed "reflexive actions" that are "natural indicators" of death?

"That's going to be the big issue at trial," said Jacqueline McMurtrie, director of the Criminal Law Clinic at the UW School of Law. "You can't kill a person who's already dead. They have to show the doctor's intention to cause the death of the victim."

Doctor's decision debated

Port Angeles, a city of about 19,000 people, is large enough that when Unger meets a jury pool of 60 people, she may not know any of them. The city is small enough, though, that when that happens she is surprised.

Once driven by the timber industry, Port Angeles must now rely on the city's paper mill, Daishowa; its main hospital, Olympic Memorial; and tourism to fuel its economy. The city is noticeably busier in the summer when its hotels and restaurants are full.

The tax base, although still lagging because of the decline of the timber industry, is healthy enough to support the construction of a new library and senior-citizens center.

The city supports a handful of wealthy professionals, mostly doctors and lawyers. Many of them attend Holy Trinity Lutheran, a church with a reputation for being liberal and popular among the educated professionals in Port Angeles. The Turners are among the church's most exemplary members.

Eugene Turner treats his neighbors and friends to a barbecue every summer. He gives away boxes full of vegetables he grows in his garden. He and his wife virtually adopted a family in town, whose single mother is visually impaired. He splits firewood on his land and gives it away.

When Habitat for Humanity, a charity that builds housing for poor families, came to Port Angeles, Turner donated land on which four houses were built.

"He is squeaky clean," said Romero, the church staff member. "He could run for president. You wouldn't find anything wrong."

Wander into Port Angeles High School on any given day. Chances are you will meet someone who has been treated by Turner. He diagnosed Jeni Stevenson's pneumonia and Kim LeBuis' ear infection after other doctors found nothing wrong. The girls, both 16, still see Turner.

"He had to make a choice," Stevenson said of the night of Jan. 12. "If he could have saved the baby, I'm sure he would have."

Doctors are supposed to have God complexes, but Turner is humble, Romero said. He has been highly involved - at the center, even - in his community, to an extent far beyond a typical level.

"No matter how many times I see a child die, it never ceases to traumatize me," Turner said in a statement released through his attorney. "It only hurts because I care so much. If I ever stopped caring, I would quit being a doctor."

The pastor at Holy Trinity, the Rev. Charlie Mays, has started a legal-defense fund for Turner. Mays made the gesture personally, not as pastor of the church. Even among the flock, there are differences of opinion.

Members of the congregation include hospital staff, the editor of the local newspaper and employees of the Prosecutor's Office.

"Generally, the majority is supportive of Gene and Norma as folks," said the associate pastor, the Rev. Paul Smithson. "But some people take issue with what they conclude happened."

Even supporters are conflicted. Many spoke, but did not want to be identified. Between whispers of praise and sympathy for Turner, they raised questions.

At the end of an hours-long ordeal, was he too tired to make the best decision?

Was he too empathetic, letting his frayed emotions guide his actions?

However well intended, was he being arrogant when he put his hand over the baby's mouth and nose?

Or did he make the most compassionate decision possible based on years of experience and a firm belief that this was a dead baby?

"It's been divisive in many ways," Smithson said. "In a larger town, you might have the respite of anonymity. But here it's a community issue. In the long run, we'll all have to live together."

Hugo Kugiya's phone message number is 206-464-2281. His e-mail address is: hkugiya@seattletimes.com. Carol M. Ostrom's phone message number is 206-464-2249. Her e-mail address is: costrom@seattletimes.com.