Picking Myself Up From The Cutting Room Floor
Storytime About The True Crime Producers Who Disrupted My Healing and Depreciated My Friend’s Life
I recall sitting at my writing desk with my laptop open. Suddenly, I felt an urge to check my Facebook account, despite rarely using it. Upon logging in, I discovered a message request from a true crime producer. He explained that he was conducting research for a show on Investigation Discovery and had stumbled upon an article I had written about my childhood friend, Vernecia Woodard.
During a phone call that lasted over two hours, I found myself opening up to him. He had a way of making me feel comfortable and safe. I talked about my experiences at Pleasantville Cottage School, and how my friendship with Vernecia helped me get through it all. We often retreated into our world, away from the abuse and mistreatment I faced from the staff and administrators. I also shared with him how I watched my friends walk categories in the Black LGBT Ballroom scene. Despite the many digressions, I recalled the joy on Vernecia's face when I gifted her a velvety journal with rhinestones, so we could write together. She was my rock during those tough times.
We eventually discussed business matters. He read my other article which was a deep dive into Jeffrey Dahmer, and we both agreed on the importance of ethical and victim-focused true crime content. After Vernecia's mother and sister read my article about their sister, they allowed him to contact me. He wanted to reassure me that this project had the approval of Vernecia’s family. This made me feel more confident about committing to the project. I wanted people to realize that Vernecia had a life before her tragic end. I'm grateful that I knew her.
The show was called Good Cop, Bad Cop. The "good cops" were the ones who investigated and arrested the "bad cop" who had murdered Vernecia. The producer had an intriguing concept for my interview. He wanted to use my experience as an anti-police brutality activist to emphasize this contrast. I would express outrage that my beloved friend died from the very thing I fought against, and then express relief that her killer was held accountable. To further drive the point home, I would convey how pleasantly surprised I was that his department didn’t close ranks to protect him.
In the weeks leading up to the interview, I dealt with bouts of anxiety. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go through it. I urged the producers to find Francis Washington. She lived with Vernecia and me at Pleasantville Cottage School. She was a short, spunky girl who hailed from Natchez, Mississippi. We nicknamed her “Mississippi” or “Missy” for short. After I left Pleasantville Cottage School, she and Vernecia formed a strong bond that would last until the day she died. She had supported Vernecia and her daughter for many years. Anytime she needed money or a place to stay, Missy was right there.
I expressed gratitude to anyone I spoke to from production. The way the episode was pitched to me, I felt they were the antithesis of exploitative, sleazy, creators of true crime content. Finally, Vernecia would have her story told and anytime I felt bad about what happened to her, she’d be forever immortalized in a series. I felt I had to push through any doubts or anxiety flare-ups leading up to the interview. It became clear that more than likely, Missy wouldn’t be participating. People needed to hear a friend’s perspective on the life of Vernecia.
The production team ordered a roundtrip car service to the filming location of my interview. My sister was gracious enough to accompany me because she knew how nervous I was. My emotions felt like a washing machine in a spin cycle. I was revisiting a time of my life that deeply traumatized me and I was about to relive the period when Vernecia was murdered. I felt this was necessary to endure. I needed to give her a voice.
A few years after Vernecia died, I decided to sever ties with this period of my life for the sake of my mental health. I felt uneasy that some people I knew from Pleasantville Cottage School were connected on social media to staff members and administrators who participated in my abuse. Additionally, they often downplayed what happened to us or tried to explain it away. My reason for being connected to that period of my life evaporated the day Vernecia died. The only person I was willing to keep an open communication line for is Vernecia’s daughter. I broke this agreement to myself so I could tell Vernecia’s story.
The bewilderment I experienced as I realized the interview location was in the same Long Island town as one of my group homes — the one I lived in before I was shipped off to Pleasantville Cottage School — can’t be described in words. My sister asked me if I wanted to back out. She saw how overwrought I appeared. With my head in my hands, I told her it was too late. I was putting myself through hell because I thought it would pay off in the end.
During the interview, I had slight difficulty recalling exact dates or the smallest of details about the weeks leading up to Vernecia’s murder. We sent Facebook and text messages here and there. She wanted to get a job in New York City and eventually move back here. If that didn’t happen she would come up for Thanksgiving. She sent a message along the lines of, “I better see you”.
There was something else that caused me distress. I felt pressure not to reveal the integral role Missy had in Vernecia’s life. Some situations unfolded after Vernecia died, and I felt somehow caught in the middle. I didn’t want to accidentally say something that would displease Vernecia’s mother and sister. I felt unnecessary pressure not to cause trouble by saying the “wrong” thing. For all I know, they all could’ve since resolved these issues. I unplugged myself from being in the know years ago. I never received new information and had no way to clarify.
The interviewer asked me to walk him through the day I found out Vernecia died. I began to cry. I took a small break. I was overcome with emotion again when I told him I felt I didn’t know her at all when it was revealed how she died. I expressed the guilt I felt that I didn’t help her. Lighter moments revealed how we obsessively watched Forrest Gump on a VHS tape, enjoyed reading teen magazines, and fantasized about our future. I conveyed that she stood by me and comforted me through the worst of times at Pleasantville Cottage School. I expressed my absolute disgust toward the man who murdered her. The utter delusion he possessed into believing he had the right to take her life or to insinuate she was a dishonorable person.
On the way home from the interview, I felt so sick. I had to stick my head out of an open car window for air. All the psychological labor I partaken in caught up to me. I felt relieved I survived it. I did it for Vernecia.
The projected air date of the Good Cop, Bad Cop series was for the Spring of 2023. I sent a text message to one of the producers when springtime came and went. He wasn’t sure of the exact date and claimed he would let me know as soon as an update was available.
I kept myself busy with my healing journey. In September 2023, I testified before the New York State Assembly about my family’s experience in foster care and named my abusers and those who participated in our traumatic experiences. This led me to submit written testimony to the New York State Senate about the systematic dysfunction of the family court. In both testimonies, I named Pleasantville Cottage School and JCCA. It felt good.
For the past several months, I have dedicated one day out of the month to take several minutes to express gratitude toward Vernecia. I’m standing up for myself and my family. I know she would be so proud of me. I wish I could tell her once more how she kept me going. Perhaps, I do the monthly ritual to send vibrations of gratitude into the universe. I hope the vibrations will reach her wherever she may be. I didn’t hear anything from the producers about the airdate of the series. I thought maybe it was scrapped due to budget cuts. I mean, the writer’s strike did halt the entertainment industry for months.
Just as I felt the sudden urge to check my Facebook account over a year ago, I felt the same sensation to Google search, “Vernecia Woodard Good Cop, Bad Cop”. I was astonished that the complete series finished airing in December 2023. Why wasn’t I notified? I dropped what I was doing to watch Vernecia’s episode. Within the first three minutes of the episode, I saw crime scene photos of her bloodied and charred body parts. I immediately pressed “pause” on my remote and covered my mouth. I felt the warm tears stream from my eyes and onto my hands. I also learned I was completely cut from the episode. I endured all of that for nothing.
The episode had cop cliches and puns sprinkled throughout. Producers included a police interview clip of Vernecia’s killer mentioning he paid $30-$40 for her services. To divulge such information on national television and streaming platforms is a disgrace to my friend’s memory. I was further enraged as I listened to detectives talk about finding a condom in her killer's trash bin. The final slap to the face was the episode’s last scene displaying her birth year as 1975, not 1988. I’ve seen a Tubi original production have more class than what I watched. It was a cheaply produced sensationalistic heap of garbage.
Vernecia and I crossed paths during a time that still has a psychological hold on my everyday life. Our adultification led to mistreatment and not being seen as children who needed support. This is a problem that Black girls experience disproportionally, compared to white children. I was just bycatch of this very racist practice because of my entanglement in the foster care system. Our friendship was important because it allowed us to be girls, despite how the “adults in charge” perceived us.
I’m thankful we reconnected as adults and saw each other after leaving Pleasantville Cottage School. However, I wish Vernecia and I had more time. When I talk about my friendship with Vernecia and what happened to her, I’m told that I do it in a beautifully dignified manner. It’s possible to be honest about what happened to her and keep her dignity intact.
The producers of Good Cop, Bad Cop completely wasted my time and caused me unwanted psychological distress. My life was interrupted. I was deceived. I understand when it comes to movie and television production, situations arise and people are unexpectedly cut. It would’ve been common courtesy to inform me that my participation was being excluded. Upon viewing the finished product of Vernecia’s episode, I’m relieved I was excluded. The producers alleged her family had oversight and say regarding this episode. This brings up a valid question to ask, did they approve of how Vernecia was depicted? I don’t mean to come off as accusatory, but I was left completely in the dark. I don’t know.
Overall, this experience was an essential lesson I had to learn. I shouldn’t force myself through situations where my inner voice is shouting at me to walk away. I should look at the true crime industry at face value; it’s inherently exploitative and sensationalistic. I shouldn’t revisit traumatic events from my past or be associated with people I strategically distanced myself from, for the sake of my mental wellbeing. I went into this situation with the best intentions, even though the people who brought on me didn’t.
I can’t undo what happened to Vernecia or the fact predatory sensationalists cashed in on her demise. The true crime industry is desensitizing the masses. Murdered people are becoming products of mass consumption, and their devastated loved ones are re-traumatized in the process. Writing about what was done to Vernecia and me is the first step toward radical acceptance. I restored our dignity. I hope Vernecia’s daughter never watches this episode or comes across its disparaging details.
Written in Memory of Vernecia Woodard
March 8th, 1988 — August 22nd, 2014
