Problems with The New York Times’ P.J. Williams Piece

The New York Times’ FSU Bureau is back at work, this time detailing an alleged hit and run perpetrated by Florida State cornerback P.J. Williams, who was accompanied by fellow defensive back starter Ronald Darby, as well as an unnamed young woman. It depicts the events of the early morning hours of October 5, when a car driven by Williams collided with that of teenager Ian Keith. Williams, Darby and their acquaintance left the scene of the crime and then returned about 20 minutes later. Williams was cited for an improper left turn and for unknowingly driving with a suspended license.

Other than what’s included in the piece, we’ve really no knowledge of what went down that evening. And it feels like Mike McIntire and Walt Bogdanich, the article’s authors, are attempting to capitalize on that to further demonize FSU.

To be clear: this is not an endorsement of Williams, Darby, or any of the actions alleged to have occurred. Instead, I simply point out some questionable journalistic choices made by those seeking Florida State’s vilification by what appears to be any means necessary.

Early in the piece, the authors point out that members of Florida State University Police Department responded to the accident, even though it did not occur on campus, thereby implying that the Tallahassee Police Department was colluding with FSUPD in some way. They then go on the mention that FSUPD did not file a report. Which way do they want it? Was FSUPD too involved, or not involved enough? You can’t have it both ways.

Later, McIntire and Bogdanich include Miami lawyer Elijah Stiers’ comments on how the case should have been handled: “Two-thirty in the morning, people fleeing on foot — at the very least you’ve got to charge them with hit and run.” Stiers continues: “You don’t get out of it just because you come back to the scene.” First, what difference does the time make with regard to law enforcement? The answer, of course, is that it doesn’t– or at least it shouldn’t.

How police react, of course, will always be affected by a circumstance like time of day, as certain behavior — like driving under the influence — are more likely to transpire after 2 a.m. in a college town. But the decision to levy a charge should be made independent of such circumstances.

The real issue with Stiers, however, is that he actually helped to draft legislation to increase penalties on hit-and-run drivers in Florida. So it’s safe to say that he has a vested interest in the matter, making this a clear conflict of interest. Of course, Stiers is merely relaying his opinion, and our legal system is based on just such adversarial exchange. Of course the same can’t be said for this article, which supplies no comment from, say, a lawyer contending otherwise.

But back to implications of driving under the influence. I mentioned earlier that it’s probably a normal tendency for an officer to keep an eye out for drunk drivers during certain hours, an approach with which we’d probably all agree. The article makes it a point of emphasizing the fact that Williams was not tested for alcohol, an action the authors say would have been “logical,” which would then make TPD’s handling of the matter illogical and, therefore, suspect.

But shouldn’t the benefit of the doubt go to the law enforcement professionals who deal with DUIs all the time? Aren’t they far more qualified than a pair of columnists regarding signs of intoxication? Furthermore, Keith was a teenager driving after 2 am. Why was there no mention of it being “logical” to test him as well? The authors attempt to erase any such sentiment by describing Keith as driving home from his job at The Olive Garden, which, for what it’s worth, had closed more than three hours earlier.

Back to the FSU players’ reaction. Some young men made a mistake, and fled. It’s a bit of a gut reaction. Should they have done so? No. But does it mean that they were involved in anything more nefarious than a poorly executed turn? No, not necessarily.

McIntire and Bogdanich, however, have a witness regarding Williams’ behavior: Keith– the guy whose car Williams just wrecked (there’s no animosity sown there, right?). Even though the piece characterizes Keith as “shaken up” at one juncture (when it’s trying to bolster sympathy for the young man), it nevertheless relies upon his appraisal of Williams’ behavior, about which he says: “the way he was speaking, I definitely had suspicions about drinking.”

At least that’s what The Times would have us believe.

The player, whose speech Keith called “sort of rambling,” apologized to Keith– but, per the piece, Keith couldn’t even identify who it was. This seems odd, as Williams and Darby look nothing alike and have notably different hairstyles. It’s good enough for The Times, though.

Plus, if one person involved in a car accident was “shaken up,” wouldn’t it stand to reason that the others might be as well? Couldn’t this account for “rambling” speech? TPD officer Derek Hawthorne, by the way, reported no suspicion of alcohol or drug use. At least the NYT gave two sides to the story this time, even if it privileges that from the shaken teenager over that of the law enforcement professional.

I’m not trying to go in on Keith here. I’m glad he’s alright, and he should be compensated for damages incurred. But his commentary of the night’s events seems flawed at best and may be far from unbiased. The Times rather twists his words to carry out its own agenda.

But the most egregious reporting done here occurs when the writers attempt to establish a connection between the accident and a break-in at a nearby gas station. Security footage captures Williams’ vehicle driving by as the break-in goes down. The implication being made is that the two incidents are connected, even though the admission is made that “no evidence has surfaced to link the two.” None. It takes evidence to charge someone in the legal system– it obviously requires none to do so in print.

The article again returns to Keith’s recollection of events, and states that he “believed” that when the break-in was discovered, the football players had yet to return, implying that they may have had something to do with it. So in addition to citing the shaken up Keith’s opinion as to Williams’ behavior, McIntire and Bogdanich now utilize him as a source on the night’s timeline– right down to the whereabouts of the FSU players at the exact minute of the break-in’s discovery (3:06 am).

It goes on. A number of FSU players are described as showing up later. It’s never mentioned that they may have been merely supporting teammates involved in a car accident, though, and the implication seems to be that this is the result of an FSU program seeking to protect its own.

Along those lines, FSU Director of Player Development Mario Edwards, Sr. is said to have arrived to pick up the Williams and Darby, whereas Keith is depicted as catching a ride from a tow-truck driver. It’s a rather inane detail, but one that serves to portray the players as enjoying beneficial treatment over the working stiffs who have to bum rides from strangers. It does nothing save further the goal of painting Florida State as some sort of devious machine.

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The article states that TPD offered seven other similar cases in which a hit and run was not charged, but The Times is unsatisfied that these cases are similar enough. Of course, unlike a case that they detail at great length in which a hit and run charge was levied, McIntire and Bogdanich fail to provide the actual intricacies of these cases, instead glossing over them hastily. It’s noted that in “most” cases, there was more detail provided. “Most”? So, what? That could mean that in four cases more detail was provided, but in three cases it was less. That hardly sets up a distinct favoritism shown by authorities in this case.

In one final rather calloused jab, the authors describe how Williams has since paid the “$296 in overdue fines, related to an earlier speeding ticket, in order to get his license reinstated,” but that, since he has yet to produce the $392 stemming from charges incurred as a result of the collision, his license has been suspended again. The Buick Century Williams was driving was registered to his grandmother, and was “disabled with damages that exceeded [its] estimated value,” underscoring the possibility that, while McIntire and Bogdanich may consider this a paltry fee easily payable, the ability to do so may not be so feasible for others.

An accident occurred, and that’s a shame, as is the initial reaction of the FSU players involved. But they came around and did the right thing in returning to the scene. It seems, unfortunately, the real hit and run perpetrated here is once again at the hands of The New York Times’ writers.