There was another reason why Fielder felt he had no need to know the whole story that first day. The immediate decision that had to be made was whether or not Jonathan should testify before the grand jury. From the available evidence, Fielder strongly suspected that Jonathan had indeed killed his grandparents. What he would ultimately need to know was why. And whatever the reason, it couldn’t possibly be sufficient enough, or compelling enough, for Fielder to want to have his client walk into the grand jury the following day and talk about it.
The homeowner who shoots the intruder, the battered wife who kills her drunk and abusive husband, the shopkeeper who defends his store the twentieth time he’s robbed - those are the defendants you send into the grand jury. Even if the law says that such an individual wasn’t entirely justified in doing what he did, if he can tell his story in a sympathetic enough way, chances are good he’s going to walk out of there. He’ll either be cleared altogether, or charged with some lesser crime, such as the possession of an unlicensed gun in his home or place of business, a misdemeanor requiring no jail time.
No grand jury was going to buy the proposition that Jonathan Hamilton had killed his grandparents in self-defense, or to prevent them from robbing him or abusing him.
His story could wait.
But beyond that, and beyond the need to establish a sense of trust between client and attorney, there was yet another reason altogether that kept Fielder from pushing Jonathan to talk about the crime early on in their relationship. As early as that first afternoon, Matt Fielder was beginning to sense, however tentatively and vaguely, that not only did Jonathan Hamilton not know why he had killed his grandparents, but that it was entirely possible he didn’t even know whether he had killed them.
So they spent those two hours, Matt Fielder and Jonathan Hamilton, getting acquainted. For Jonathan, it was the first real chance to get to know this man who was going to be his lawyer, whatever that strange title may have meant to him. For Fielder, it marked the point at which he truly began caring about Jonathan, not just as another client who needed his help, but as an utterly defenseless, overgrown child of heartbreaking innocence, whose very survival was now placed squarely in Fielder’s hands. And though the process would prove a slow and sometimes painful one, given Jonathan’s severely limited vocabulary and generally poor verbal skills, a picture began to emerge that afternoon, a picture that would gradually be enlarged upon, filled in, and fleshed out in the many afternoons of the weeks and months to follow.
JONATHAN PORTER HAMILTON came into the world on the twelfth day of August 1969. By the time of Jonathan’s birth, his parents, Porter Hamilton and Elizabeth Greenhall Hamilton, had been through more than their share of marital difficulties. Separated twice, and twice reunited, they had finally reached an accommodation of sorts that involved separate bedrooms in opposite wings of the greathouse on the estate Porter’s father, Carter Hamilton, had inherited from his own father, Meriwether Hamilton. Meriwether had made his fortune selling old-growth timber to the sawmills and paper factories at the turn of the century. At one point, he had owned nearly a quarter of a million acres of forest in the heart of what is today known as Adirondack Park. When he threatened to cut down every tree standing, the state stepped in and bought him out in order to stop him, making his timber fortune look like small change. Meriwether kept a single 250-acre “parcel” for himself, on which he set about building the seven structures that today comprise the Hamilton estate.
Carter Hamilton, Jonathan’s grandfather, grew up on the estate and, save for a half-dozen years away at college and in the military, spent his whole life on it. He became a junior partner of sorts in Meriwether Hamilton’s financial empire, which grew to include real-estate holdings, oil and gas leases, and a chain of newspapers. When Carter married Mary Alice Poindexter in 1930, he left Flat Lake only long enough to spend a two-week honeymoon in the Caribbean, returning with Mary Alice to take up residence in the cottage that would ultimately become Jonathan’s home. Carter and Mary Alice had two children: William, who was born in 1938 and died of meningitis in his first year, and Porter, born in 1940.
Porter appears to have been the most adventurous of the Hamiltons. Strikingly handsome and Harvard-educated, he was both a good student and a world-class lacrosse player. He won a Rhodes Scholarship, which took him to Oxford, where he lived and studied for two years. When he returned, he brought with him Elizabeth Greenhall, the woman who would become his wife. They promptly moved into one of the upstairs suites in the estate, where they, too, became permanent residents.
Just what the nature of the differences between Jonathan’s parents was, is hard to pinpoint. Porter Hamilton was widely known to have been a ladies’ man. There is one story, difficult to confirm but likely true, that the ink on his wedding license had scarcely dried when he returned from the church with the maid of honor and disappeared with her in an upstairs bedroom for the better part of the evening. The maid of honor was none other than Margaret Greenhall, the younger sister of Elizabeth Greenhall Hamilton, Porter’s bride of two hours.
Just how Elizabeth continued to put up with Porter’s womanizing for nearly forty years invites speculation. By all accounts, she was a soft-spoken, timid woman, who was waited upon by servants - a German couple, Elna and Klaus Armbrust, who attended to the housekeeping and the grounds, respectively. Seldom was Elizabeth seen outside her home. It appears that she never managed to obtain a driver’s license or a social-security card, and had little or no money of her own, instead depending upon her husband for a weekly allowance to cover her needs. Even then, Porter - who by that time was running most of the family’s businesses - would have to chauffeur her to the store so she could make her purchases, granting or withholding his personal approval when it came to each of her selections.
This much is known about Elizabeth: Not too long after her marriage to Porter, she began to drink, and by the time of Jonathan’s birth she had become something of an alcoholic. Not that she ever turned into a public embarrassment, of course: She did her drinking upstairs, in the privacy of her own bedroom, sipping sherry from a crystal glass. Only her mother, Mary Alice Hamilton, and her physician, a fellow named Dr. Nash (the brother of Walter Nash, the longtime Flat Lake Town Supervisor), seem to have been aware of the dimensions of her problem.
Back in 1969, when Jonathan was born, little was known about the subject of fetal alcoholism. Today we understand just how prevalent the problem is, and how indelibly it marks its victims. Researchers have come to identify a number of physical, mental, and emotional symptoms that, taken together, comprise a condition that is officially recognized in diagnostic manuals as FAS, or fetal alcohol syndrome, an organic disorder that has been referred to colloquially as the “incurable hangover.” Physically, it may include a somewhat pronounced forehead; a short, upturned nose; a smooth philtrum (the area beneath the nose that is normally ridged); a thin vermillion (upper-lip border); eyes that are small and wide-set; an abnormally small jaw; minor differences in the ears; and a brain that is often somewhat smaller than average. Mentally, there is a slight but definitely noticeable statistical drop in test scores, and an increase in the type of behavior generally associated with ADD, or attention deficit disorder. But it is in the emotional area that some of the subtlest, but deepest scarring seems to show up, with victims exhibiting a characteristic innocence and naiveté that tends to leave them at the mercy of those looking to introduce them to drugs, sex, and a variety of criminal activities.
Even with the strides being made to identify the disorder, determine its frequency, and educate the public to the dangers of drinking during pregnancy, comparatively little research has been done to track those suffering from FAS in order to monitor its effects in later life. Part of the difficulty is that researchers lack a clearly defined database of older individuals affected by it. Jonathan Hamilton’s situation is a perfect illustration of the problem.
With Elizabeth Greenhall Porter dead almost ten years, there is no way to
document with certainty that she drank in the first trimester of Jonathan’s pregnancy. But knowing her history of drinking, and looking at Jonathan, it is extremely tempting to conclude that he exhibits at least a mild case of the disorder, a forme fruste referred to in the literature as FAE, or fetal alcohol effect. A positive diagnosis is further complicated by the fact that Jonathan is known to have suffered severe smoke inhalation – and, therefore, probably carbon monoxide poisoning as well - at the time of the fire that destroyed part of the greathouse and took the lives of both of his parents in the winter of 1988. In any event, he does have wide-set eyes, a slightly hypoplastic philtrum, and ears that - at least according to photographs - differ in shape from those of all his immediate ancestors; he scored substantially below average on standardized tests; and those familiar with him describe him as lacking in insight, unable to maintain concentration, and guileless in the extreme.
According to records obtained from Mercy Hospital in Cedar Falls, Jonathan was carried to full term by his mother; nonetheless, he weighed only four pounds eleven ounces at birth, and was measured at less than eighteen inches long - figures fully consistent with the pattern of prenatal growth deficiency commonly associated with FAS and FAE. But pediatric records tell us that Jonathan soon began to thrive, at least in terms of postnatal growth and overall physical appearance. By the time he entered Cedar Falls Elementary School, he was one of the tallest in his class, although at seven, he may also have been one of the oldest. Family photographs reveal a boy who was extremely good-looking, but who at the same time was seldom caught smiling. In snapshot after snapshot, he can be seen staring into the camera with something eerily suggestive of a fashion model’s detachment.
Because the Cedar Falls school system was not a particularly progressive or competitive one - less than 30 percent of its high-school graduates go on to attend college even today - Jonathan’s behavior and learning difficulties went largely unnoticed for several years. But by fifth grade, when he was eleven, Jonathan was exhibiting both antisocial traits and cognitive deficiencies. Despite being tall, good-looking, and reasonably athletic, he seems to have developed few friends. His reading comprehension was likened to that of a first-grader, a description which appears to have been a charitable euphemism for saying that he simply couldn’t read. According to the comments of various teachers, he had “difficulty focusing and concentrating, [was] either unable or unwilling to follow even basic rules and instructions . . . show[ed] poor control of his impulses, [could] not accept any degree of responsibility . . . and require[d] individualized supervision on an almost constant basis.”
Twice Jonathan was held back from his class, being required to repeat both fifth and seventh grades. By the time he entered high school - which in Cedar Falls meant ninth grade - he was seventeen years old. A written evaluation by a clinical psychologist, called in by the school’s principal on a consulting basis, reads like something straight out of a diagnostic manual for FAS/FAE.
Subject exhibits a marked-to-profound degree of subnormal intellectual functioning, with a specific deficiency in both reading level and mathematical skills. He has great difficulty with abstractions (e.g., time and space, cause and effect, etc.). His attention span, ability to concentrate, and memory retention are all well below normal levels for his age.
Maladaptive social functioning is present and manifested in terms of swings between periods of hyperactivity and lethargy, as well as impulsiveness and occasional oppositional behavior.
Because of poor reading ability, subject was measured with a non-verbal test protocol, scoring eighty-two (low normal-to-subnormal on the WISC scale), and borderline infantile on his Rorschach (inkblot) responses.
Within a year, Jonathan had dropped out of school altogether. Unsuited to hold down the most menial of jobs, he spent almost all of his time on the estate, venturing off the grounds only in the supervision of an adult, which usually meant his father or grandfather.
If Elizabeth Hamilton’s drinking had been the cause of her son’s problems, now it became the effect, as well. Jonathan the small boy had been a handful, a high-maintenance child whose unpredictable mood swings and resistance to learning frustrated his mother’s limited parenting skills. Gradually she had simply turned away from him.
But even as Jonathan’s intellectual and emotional development stagnated, his physical growth continued unchecked. To some observers, it was almost as though his outer body were over-compensating for whatever deficiencies lay buried within his damaged brain. By the age of fourteen, his height had already equaled that of his mother; by sixteen, he towered over her. There is some suggestion in the literature that FAS/FAE delays the onset of those secondary sex characteristics normally associated with puberty. In Jonathan’s case, this factor may have been responsible for a late growth spurt that appears to have continued past the age of eighteen, and left him just a shade under six-four by the time it was done with him.
If Jonathan the child confounded Elizabeth Hamilton, Jonathan the adult positively frightened her. Although there is no record of his ever having actually attacked or harmed her, it is not altogether unthinkable that he may have. Evidence continues to mount, that post-pubescent sufferers of FAS/FAE tend to get into trouble because of their inability to adapt socially: They demand attention and gratification, they lie, they steal. Sexually, they are alternately vulnerable and aggressive; and occasionally they can even be physically assaultive. It is not unusual for them to have frequent encounters with the criminal justice system, both as perpetrators and victims. In Jonathan’s case, this apparently did not happen; at least no public record can be found of his ever having been arrested prior to the deaths of his grandparents. But this anomaly may be largely explained by the extraordinary extent to which he was kept insulated from the real world that lay just beyond the stone walls of the Flat Lake estate.
In any event, as Jonathan neared twenty, Elizabeth seems to have become increasingly removed from him and the rest of the family, retreating to the four corners of her room, and her faithful companion the sherry bottle. Jonathan’s grandparents, Carter and Mary Alice, found their daughter-in-law’s withdrawal too painful to watch, and they moved out - but only as far as the cottage. The greathouse became a place of monumental sadness. Elizabeth stayed in her upstairs room; her husband came and went as he pleased; and Jonathan, who had his own quarters on the main floor, was pretty much left to fend for himself. Once a day, the three generations of Hamiltons would gather at the dinner table, to share their meal, either in superficial banter or melancholy silence.
Then one night, during the winter of 1989 - more precisely the early morning hours of February 17 - tragedy struck. The Armbrusts were awakened by the sound of a smoke detector coming from the greathouse. Just how long the alarm had been ringing could not be determined, but in the investigation that followed, it was calculated that for the sound to have been heard in the servants’ cabin, the wind would have had to have shifted almost 180 degrees from the prevalent direction. By the time Klaus Armbrust could break into the house, the entire upstairs was engulfed in smoke. He somehow roused Jonathan and pulled him from the building, but was unable to make his way back inside.
The Cedar Falls Volunteer Rescue Squad responded in time to save the house, but not its upstairs inhabitants. A stunned Jonathan watched in the freezing February night as his parents were carried out in body bags. The medical examiner determined that both victims had died from smoke inhalation and carbon monoxide poisoning sustained as they slept. The investigation traced the origin of the fire to Elizabeth’s bedroom, and concluded that apparently she had draped a shawl or bedjacket of some sort over an electric space heater before falling asleep.
Jonathan himself spent eight days in Mercy Hospital, recovering from severe damage to both of his lungs, aggravated by pneumonia, a fairly frequent complication associated with smoke inhalation. Upon his discharge, he was brought home to the estate, where he was moved into the cottage with his grandparents, while the
second floor of the greathouse underwent repairs for extensive fire, smoke, and water damage.
Because Jonathan’s contacts with the outside world after the fire continued to be so limited, it is difficult to assess the extent of the impact the event had upon him, both physically and emotionally. Elna and Klaus Armbrust are tight-lipped people, not given to expressing themselves regarding Jonathan Hamilton, or any other subject, for that matter. One of the few remaining outsiders who had occasion to see Jonathan on anything approaching a regular basis is Bass McClure, a sometime visitor to the Hamilton estate. McClure had been a welcome guest on the property for many years, hiking its trails and fishing its ponds with the blessings of the owners. Several times he and Porter had posted the land with notices that hunters and other trespassers would be prosecuted. Now, with Porter and Elizabeth dead, McClure made it his business to stop by whenever he could, just to check on the needs of Jonathan and his grandparents.
“The fire left its mark on the boy,” McClure says, “and he was a long time recovering from the physical effects of it. As to the mental aspect of the thing - well, I don’t believe he ever did get over that. For one thing, he developed that stutter of his - there was no sign of that beforehand. For another, it’s like the fire took all the mischief out of him. Before, he was quiet some of the time, and real overactive at other times - kind of like you’d expect from a three-year-old, or maybe a puppy. After, he was quiet all of the time. He’d just sit there and look at his hands, or down at his shoes, or stare at you with those pale blue eyes of his. I never did know what he was seeing, or what he was thinking. It was unnerving, it was. It was like all the fight was gone out of him, all the restlessness. You know?”
Flat Lake in Winter Page 7