Legal system holds fate of another dad

Edward Cook still shows up regularly on the short street where junkyard dogs howl at passers-by and men hover under the open hoods of automobiles.

His former neighbors still respect him as a man who did the best he could for his family. And they still sympathize with him for the horrible night when his best was not good enough.

Five years ago on a November night, Edward Cook locked his four small children in a West End garage and walked the considerable distance to an Over-the-Rhine grocery store to buy snacks for the kids. It was cold, it was late, they were little. They would be safer in the garage.

But in that moment that is every parent's nightmare, he turned the corner to find flames shooting from the garage and firetrucks surrounding it.

No one guessed children were inside the simple one-story building. When firefighters finally could enter, Lajonda, Christopher, Essie and Latrina were dead. The oldest was 8; the youngest 3.

Such a terrible cost, and who would pay? Initially, it appeared that Edward Cook would. An evening's negligence had cost four quiet, well-behaved children their lives. For that, Mr. Cook was charged with four counts of involuntary manslaughter and child endangerment - one count for each of his children.

But there was nothing simple about Edward Cook's story, or his life. And in an act of wisdom and compassion, a grand jury chose not to indict him.

Sorrow is his companion

Edward Cook, a quiet man, had tried to fight off misfortune the best he could. He made a home for his children in a camper with a toilet, small refrigerator, TV and microwave.

And he parked the camper in a garage. He thought they would be safe.

But Edward Cook was just a man, with few resources to do battle. And Misfortune came armed with so much - poverty, homelessness, hunger, fatigue.

The scorch marks on the roof of the garage stand witness to who won the battle.

Edward Cook still regularly appears at that garage, and spends time on that West End street. His neighbors say he has hung tough in tragedy. He still works on cars, still greets neighbors.

He moves, he breathes, he works and occasionally he smiles. It's probably accurate to say he has survived.

But his neighbors say sorrow is always there with him, the constant companion his children used to be.

''Oh, I see him. I still see him. And he looks so sad,'' one woman says quietly. ''I remember seeing those children walk up the street, coming from school. They were always clean and well cared for. I always wondered just where they came from. I don't think anybody knew they lived in that garage.''

They did not know because Edward Cook chose to live out his hard luck in private. He still does.

Another father on trial

Defense attorneys say it was a case of simple human error, a wrong call by a dad who is asked to make so many parenting calls every day.

Prosecutors say it was the most reckless sort of neglect.

To some of us who have never forgotten the smiling faces of Lajonda, Christopher, Essie and Latrina, the sad scenario takes us back to Edward Cook.

We have prayed that there is indeed life after death, both for the four young children, but also for the father who must go on without them. And we have hoped that Edward Cook has found some peace.

A jury will soon decide whether Anthony Edwards deserves the same sympathy the legal system extended to Edward Cook. It is their call alone to make. The rest of us know only one simple fact.

Edward Cook put up a valiant fight. He did not lose his children lightly.

Krista Ramsey's column appears in The Enquirer on Saturdays. Write her at 312 Elm St., Cincinnati 45202 or fax at 768-8340.

Published Sept. 14, 1996.