Saturday, September 01, 2007
A trial like no other
Photographer Bob Shell wasn't on trial for adultery or for pornography, his attorney told jurors. Shell was on trial for causing the accidental death of model Marion Franklin.
From the start, Bob Shell's case was about sex, drugs, adultery and a death, all of which was interesting enough.
And then the trial began.
The court proceedings would end up including testimony from medical and camera experts, models from across the country, even a former member of The Allman Brothers Band. And hours upon hours of pure pornography was shown to everyone in the courtroom as part of the evidence.
The trial was going to be about sex and drugs, Jonathon Venzie, Shell's lawyer, had told potential jurors. Shell, a then-56-year-old man, who had been married more than 30 years, fell in love with a 19-year-old -- a "little girl," Venzie often said.
But Shell wasn't on trial for adultery or for pornography, Venzie told them. Shell, in fact was on trial for causing the accidental death of model Marion Franklin, who died from a morphine overdose June 3, 2003, after a photo shoot in Shell's Radford studio.
Venzie told the jurors they might be disturbed by what they saw during the trial, but they couldn't be tempted to punish him for his lifestyle.
"It's going to be legs wide open, bigger than life up on that screen, hour after hour," Venzie told potential jurors as they were interviewed. "There are points in those pictures that are important for both the commonwealth and the defense." Those who sat on the jury couldn't be so disturbed that they would be compelled to look away, he added.
Some of the potential jurors said they couldn't do it. One cried about it. They were excused from jury duty in the case.
Some of the explicit photos came into play as early as Commonwealth's Attorney Chris Rehak's opening statement.
As the pictures started popping up on the courtroom wall, Circuit Judge Joey Showalter was compelled to ask whether there was anyone under 18 in the courtroom. There was not.
What may have been the most unusual part of the trial came in the third day of testimony, when jurors and others watched sexually explicit videos for almost four straight hours. Shell and Franklin had been working together to create a Web site, and the videos were shot as part of their work.
After they played, the trial recessed for the day. Hardly anyone made eye contact as the courtroom cleared.
It was clear, too, that Shell isn't just a regular Joe, even though his photography studio, where many of the explicit bondage videos and photographs were taken, is at 239 W. Main St., not far from traditional Radford mainstays such as the Medicine Shoppe, the police station and several churches.
Shell is an internationally known and well-respected photographer.
Witnesses testified they had spent hundreds to thousands of dollars attending Shell's photography workshops.
Bob Story, who said he works at the University of Georgia College of Veterinary Medicine and is also a photographer, testified that he had all Bob Shell's books, including those published under the pseudonym Edward Lee -- Shell's middle names.
"He's quite well-respected and often quoted in literature for his ability and style," Story said.
Shell said he stopped counting after he had published 26 books. He has written instructional manuals on photography, published a book of bondage photographs that has Franklin on the cover, even a book about dinosaurs.
Ann Marie Pacheco, a graceful blonde in a flowing spaghetti strap top, was one of six women who testified during the trial who said they had modeled for Shell. Four testified for the defense and two for the prosecution.
One said she had been photographed for Playboy. Another said Shell had paid her about $20,000 over the years she modeled for him.
Pacheco, who lives in Miami, said working with Shell was the "highlight of my career. It's really a privilege and an honor to have been able to model for him."
Pacheco said she met Shell after Franklin's death. She learned about the charges against him on his Web site.
"I just figured it was nothing to be concerned about and it really wasn't," she said.
A few of the people who ended up on the jury said during jury selection that they knew little or nothing about Shell's case. They had escaped the media coverage that stretched over more than four years -- as three defense attorneys, two prosecutors and two judges were on the case -- and countless motions hearings.
But as the trial went on, they found out about those hearings.
Several times, Rehak and Venzie would refer back to witnesses' prior testimony, asking whether they remembered how they had testified in January 2006 or February 2007 as confused jurors looked on.
The trial was serious in tone despite the unusual evidence and subjects, and included hours of testimony about topics ranging from death to the intricate workings of a camera.
Still, parts of it provided some comic relief.
Twice during the trial, Showalter had to keep witnesses from walking out of the courtroom with pieces of evidence.
And then there was North Carolina photographer Johnny Meeks.
"He was a piece of work," Venzie told the jury during his closing argument Thursday.
While being sworn in, Meeks, who was called to testify for the defense, made his way up to the front of the courtroom until he was within a foot of deputy court clerk Ann Howard.
Asked by Howard whether he swore to tell the truth, Meeks said he swore to tell more truth than anyone who had testified to that point. Several jurors looked at one another and smiled, and Shell laughed under his breath.
Venzie started off by saying he heard Meeks was the original drummer of The Allman Brothers Band.
Meeks said that was true, that he drummed for the band back in 1969.
"What has that got to do with this?" he asked Venzie.
Meeks' testimony, in fact, had little to do with the case.
Meeks described meeting and photographing Franklin once in 2002.
Later, he began telling the story of how his ex got married and moved to a gated community.
"I hate to cut you off ...," Venzie said. "Does any of this relate back to Marion Franklin?"
It didn't.
As he left the witness stand, Meeks rambled about how his uncle was a judge in Greensboro, N.C.
Showalter told him he couldn't talk after he left the witness stand. Meeks said he'd never heard such a rule.
"Well I made it up just now," Showalter said.











