In life and death, tattoo artist Kauri Tiyme made her mark.
Amy Neustein never could resist going public with her family dramas.
A visit with the hurricane victims that a country forgot.
The experience has shattered her life and disrupted her family, she says. "It's breathtaking. It's really torn me up a lot, because I never thought that they would do this." She feels betrayed by BSO, to which she devoted her life. Now she has the creepy feeling that she's being secretly videotaped, as Brown was. When things began to go wrong, Cox thought her treatment was out of character for her beloved BSO. Now, she suspects that this was standard practice.
Cox has pinned her hopes on a mediation hearing her attorney has scheduled for July 22. But she now says she wouldn't go back if asked.
In her 11 years at BSO, Cox often met Ken Jenne, who always seemed very caring, she says. But she notes that all the firings of injured deputies she knows of took place on Jenne's watch and that he must know what's being done in his name. She frequently heard Jenne declare that BSO was a family, with the implication that he was the proud and benevolent papa, she says. "Goddamn," she exclaims, "if this is how you treat your family, I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies."