Mistrial in Chelsea
Satisfies Nobody
By Cornelia Cesari

Angry outbursts exploded onto the Chelsea common Tuesday as the family of Christina Ellison exited the Orange County Courthouse.

Judge Theresa S. DiMauro had just declared a mistrial in the jury trial of Kristy O'Meara for vehicle operation with gross negligence—with death resulting—on Jan. 7, 2007. The resultant crash killed Ellison and resulted in the death of her daughter Taylor Rose, with whom she was nine months pregnant.

The mistrial, the first that Judge DiMauro had ever granted, came about because of the sudden disclosure of new information, including a video tape, in the midst of the trial. Evidence of that nature is supposed to be shared with the defendant’s lawyer well before the trial.

In this case, State Police apparently forgot to tell anybody about the video tape, which included two interviews with O’Meara. Neither State’s Atty. Will Porter nor defense attorney Dan Sedon knew of its existence.

The trial had started the previous day, with testimony that 27-year-old Ellison was driving her mini-van to work as a waitress at P&H Truck Stop in Wells River when her car was struck by O’Meara’s head-on.

Defense Atty. Sedon told the jury that 32-year-old O'Meara's negligence was not "gross deviation from the care that a reasonable person would have exercised," but akin to that of a distracted driver, referring to her explanation that a back spasm from a recent work-related injury had been the cause of the accident.

Testimony, however, explored inconsistencies between O'Meara's account immediately following the accident and her account weeks later, witnesses' testimony, and evidence at the scene. At question are pertinent facts including when the back spasm actually occurred, the placement of the two vehicles on the road, and whether the defendant's eyes left the road.

A witness who said she had followed O'Meara's vehicle testified that she was driving erratically for miles before veering into the northbound lane a final time causing the head-on impact on Route 5 in Newbury.

Eillison's baby was delivered stillborn hours later, while Ellison herself died three weeks after the accident.

The charge carries a maximum sentence of 15 years in prison.

After two days of proceedings, hours of it spent waiting on the common and in the hushed courtroom, Ellison’s family was impatient and frustrated as a new delay was called on Tuesday. Her surviving children—two young sons—played games and cuddled with relatives while the judge and attorneys Sedon, Bryan Dodge, and Porter consulted in her chambers.

"Do you like my picture?" one of the boys asked repeatedly, going from bench to bench showing off his artwork.

At last, the four emerged. Sedon and Dodge beckoned O'Meara and her family into a conference room, while Porter squatted before the dozen Ellison family members who gathered around his murmured explanation. In his hand he held the VHS tape, which had recently come to light. "Is there anything else you don't know about?" blurted an angry family member. "I don't know," replied Porter.

The tape, Atty. Sedon later detailed to the court, contains two and a half hours of information including views of Route 5 showing the road conditions that day, views of the accident scene 15 or 20 minutes after the accident, and depictions of the defendant's actual demeanor that morning.

There was also "another interview at the St. Johnsbury barracks unknown to us and … information about Ms. O'Meara's injuries," he said.

Sedon then moved for a mistrial.

"I think this may be the first time I've had to grant a mistrial," Judge DiMauro responded, "but to have the tape come to light during the trial itself … The information needs to be known, both by the state and the defendant."

Acknowledging that some of the information may or may not be important, she concluded that there was "certainly information that would have needed to be known for the purposes of preparing for the trial."

DiMauro granted the motion for a mistrial, based on the defendant’s right of due process, but stated the Court's intention to reschedule a jury trial, probably in September.

Out on the Common afterward, the family reconvened, several releasing expressions of pent-up anger.

Ellison's mother, Delcia Vinnacombe, grappled with her grief and frustration. "He didn't even argue!" she fumed, referring to Porter.

"They argued in chambers," explained another family member.

As the family hurriedly dispersed to avoid confrontation with the defendant or members of the judicial system, Vinnacombe recalled her four-year-old grandson's March birthday, when he blew out the candles and wished "that his mom would come back alive."