#reckless endangerment

"Oh, the irony..."

The adult son of North Dakota Sen. Kevin Cramer was sentenced to serve 28 years in prison Monday in connection with a wild chase in which he fled from a hospital and drove into a deputy’s vehicle, killing the deputy.

Ian Cramer, 43, pleaded guilty in September to all of the charges against him, including homicide while fleeing a peace officer, preventing arrest, reckless endangerment, fleeing an officer and drug- and driving-related offenses. Those charges related to a Dec. 6, 2023, chase and crash that killed Mercer County Sheriff’s Deputy Paul Martin, 53.

State District Judge Bobbi Weiler handed down the sentence of 38 years with 10 years suspended, three years of probation and credit for over a year served in jail. She also included recommended treatment for addiction and mental health. But he likely won’t serve the full 28 years, the judge said.

“The (state) Department of Corrections has their own policy on how much time you’re going to serve,” Weiler said. “These are not mandatory minimums, which means that you’re probably going to serve a small portion of that 28 years and be out on parole, so that’ll ... give you an opportunity to have a second chance that Deputy Martin does not have, nor does his family have.”

Cramer, who wore orange and sat quietly next to his public defender, apologized to Martin’s family when asked if he would like to speak.

“I had no intention to do any of this. It was an accident, and I just hope that someday they can forgive me, and I think the best thing for me is to go to a hospital and just get more help,” Ian Cramer said.

Much of the sentencing focused on Cramer’s addiction and mental health. Mercer County State’s Attorney Todd Schwarz, citing doctors, said Ian Cramer had been experiencing long-term effects of “taking drugs to put himself into a mentally ill state.”

Cramer admitted to using methamphetamine and bath salts the day of the crash, Schwarz said.

Cramer’s mother, Kris Cramer, read a statement in which she said her son “has hurt his brain a lot on his own” and is dealing with a mental illness. She apologized and said, “I really do feel responsible for what happened on Dec. 6 (2023).”

Bismarck police said she had taken him to a hospital because of mental health concerns. Court documents say he crawled into the driver seat of his parents’ vehicle after his mother got out and smashed in reverse through the closed garage door of the hospital’s ambulance bay. He later fled from deputies when one confronted him in Hazen, about 70 miles (113 kilometers) from Bismarck, authorities said.

Cramer hit speeds of over 100 mph (160 kph) and kept going even after a spiked device flattened two tires, according to court documents. More spikes were set up, and Cramer swerved and then crashed head-on into Martin’s patrol vehicle and launched him about 100 feet (30 meters), authorities said. Martin was pronounced dead at a local hospital.

Schwarz said Martin was loved by his colleagues and will be remembered for his kindly nature, which showed in his regular check-ins with a young girl who had a troubled father and a fear of officers. A week before the crash, Martin shared his retirement plans with Schwarz, who had known him since the 1990s.

Cramer pleaded not guilty in the homicide case in April. He was initially charged with manslaughter, later changed to the homicide offense, which carries a maximum of 20 years in prison. He has been held at the McLean County Jail in Washburn on $500,000 cash bail.

All of the offenses to which he pleaded guilty carry a maximum sentence of just over 38 years in prison, according to the prosecutor’s sentencing brief filed earlier in December.

In March, Ian Cramer pleaded not guilty to separate felony charges of theft, criminal mischief and reckless endangerment in connection with the events at the Bismarck hospital. A jury trial is scheduled for January.

Sen. Kevin Cramer, a Republican, has said his son “suffers from serious mental disorders which manifest in severe paranoia and hallucinations.”

The senator told reporters his family commends the officers, court and jail, but said he is “somewhat disappointed that mental health is so casually dismissed both by the court and by the prosecutor.”

Excerpt from this story from New Republic:

Our world is becoming an increasingly dangerous place. One study recently found that extreme heat killed nearly 50,000 people in Europe last year. A single county in the United States—Maricopa County, in Arizona—reported 645 such deaths. Eye-popping sea surface temperatures are fueling a historically destructive hurricane season this summer, and lethal, record-breaking storms are lashing states from Texas to Vermont. In California, the climate-driven Park fire continues to burn a path of devastation that has left hundreds homeless, including numerous survivors of previous wildfires—people who have now lost their homes multiple times.

These aren’t “natural” disasters. 2023’s summer heat waves, for example, would have been “virtually impossible,” in one research team’s words, without human-caused climate change. That means these disasters are being driven by particular corporate actors—and particularly Big Oil companies. These companies, by generating a substantial portion of the greenhouse gas emissions that have warmed the planet, while simultaneously deceiving the public about the dangers of those emissions, have created a crisis that is putting millions of Americans at risk.

Existing laws are designed to protect us from such public safety threats. Recently, the victims of manmade climate disasters have started to demand that prosecutors use them.

Two weeks ago, over 1,000 survivors of climate disasters sent a letter to the U.S. Department of Justice calling on Attorney General Merrick Garland to “investigate the fossil fuel industry for climate-related crimes.” One of the signers, Allen Myers, said that the wildfire that burned down his family’s home “bore the fingerprints of the climate crisis” and stressed that the “fossil fuel industry knows that what they’re doing is dangerous.” Another, Jenny Sebold, a mother of three whose small business in Vermont was destroyed in climate-driven flooding, said, “I like to joke that I pay my bills in optimism” while “the rich oil execs get to keep making piles of money.”

I’ve previously written about how criminal law professors, former prosecutors, and climate advocates like me have begun arguing that Big Oil can and should be held accountable for some form of homicide—i.e., the deaths caused by climate disasters. But people who haven’t actually been killed, like Allen and Jenny, deserve justice too. And their experiences point toward another possibility: charging individual fossil fuel CEOs with reckless endangerment.

Reckless endangerment is an offense in most states. It criminalizes reckless conduct that “creates a substantial risk of serious bodily injury to another person.” The argument that Big Oil CEOs have committed this crime is pretty straightforward. The climate crisis, by intensifying and in many cases causing extreme weather events, including heat waves, hurricanes, floods, and wildfires, is creating a substantial risk of serious injury for vast numbers of people in practically every state and county in the country.

Fossil fuel executives, in pursuing ever-expanding oil and gas production and spreading disinformation to block efforts that would have made climate change less catastrophic, have in very concrete and material ways contributed to this risk. And a growing body of internal documents shows they knew it was dangerous: that production of fossil fuels would cause, in their own words, “globally catastrophic” climate harms that would “submerge New York,” do “great irreversible harm to our planet,” “have serious consequences for man’s comfort and survival,” and cause “suffering and death due to thermal extremes.” Fossil fuel executives even raised the height of offshore drilling platforms to account for expected sea-level rise! Doing something when you know it’s dangerous is the legal definition of recklessness. So demonstrating that Big Oil execs acted with criminal recklessness seems eminently possible.

“She called me a monster,” Roxy says, backing away from the unconscious child. How can she justify being anywhere near Cassie after that?

“Roxy, I'm sure she didn't mean it,” Eclipse tries to comfort her. She doesn't seem to hear him.

“I mean, I know I can be a little competitive and maybe I'm moody sometimes but…” the wolf trails off. The thought of frightening a kid that badly hurts more than she'd like to admit.

“Sometimes?” Helpy repeats sardonically. A glare at the monitor he's hanging out on from Eclipse is all it takes to shut him up.

“Maybe she wasn't even talking to you. She could have been hallucinating. Those Moondrop candies are such powerful things and we did give her more than one serving size,” Eclipse suggests, frowning thoughtfully. Maybe giving Cassie the candies hadn't been such a good idea after all. One or two candies at nap time has never been a problem (for most kids, anyway). But they’ve given her way more than one or two. Probably more like one dozen. Or two. Suddenly, Eclipse finds himself wondering if they've given Cassie permanent brain damage on top of her damaged limbs… Oh Fizzy Faz, this poor kid!

“Honestly, I think you're both being over dramatic here,” Helpy announces with an eye roll. Okay, so maybe he’s being a bit harsh. But the constant panicking of everyone around him the past 24 hours has gotten old. Roxy looks like she’d like to strangle him (too bad), while Eclipse doesn’t look phased by his comment. Huh. Must be a theater thing…

“It’s not like this is the end of the world,” he continues.

“How would you know?” Roxy mutters, still offended. It does feel a little like the end of the world to her. All the Fazbear animatronics, herself included, are meant to bring joy to children, after all. Not strike fear into their hearts. Even if there has been the odd parent complaint in the past. Those are usually brought on by some Karen and her spoiled offspring not getting exactly what they want, when they want it, anyway. Oh, how she misses the days where the wrong flavor of birthday cake was their biggest worry. Everything has been so… broken lately…

“Easy. I see the bigger picture,” Helpy tells her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asks. Well, more like growls, but who’s keeping track of semantics?

“Roxy, Roxy, Roxy,” He says as though talking to a confused child, “think for a minute. Where did you get those horrifyingly outdated eyes from, again?”

“… oh…” Roxy brings her good hand up to her face in horror. Of course Cassie would remember the way it’s eyes looked in her first moments of consciousness. They had probably been one of the last things she’d seen before… How could she be so stupid?

“Now you’re getting it! Yeah, you should probably find some sunglasses or something,” Helpy suggests. He’s not cruel enough to suggest she remove the eyes just yet if there’s another (possibly more entertaining) solution.

“I’m sorry, can we back up for a second, please?” Eclipse interrupts, thoroughly confused by the direction this conversation has taken. “Where did Roxy get her new eyes? Am I missing something?”

“Oh, didn’t she tell you? Roxy stole em off of It during her epic battle royale earlier. No biggie!” Helpy explains casually. He’s actually pretty impressed by the way she had ripped them clean out of their sockets, truth be told.

“Roxy, did what?!”

/////

“Can’t this car go any faster?” Gregory asks, anxiously staring out the window. Usually he’s fine with the half hour drive between his new home and the Pizzaplex. Usually there’s no reason to go anywhere near it and having a bit of space from the place they almost died (multiple times!) is a good thing. Usually-

“Gregory, I’m already driving over the speed limit,” Vanessa tells him, making a sharp turn. There’s a bump as the car goes over the curb. “If I go any faster, we’ll get pulled over for sure, which will not help our situation!”

Gregory groans in disgust. Why does Vanessa have to be a responsible adult at a time like this? Cassie needs them!

“She has a point, Superstar,” Freddy observes apologetically.

Ugh. Two responsible adults are even worse than one.

“I bet if you let me drive, we could-” Gregory starts in innocently.

“There is no way I’m doing that. I’d like to live a little longer, thank you very much,” Vanessa cuts him off. The lack of faith in his driving abilities is so unfair. She has no proof that he’d get them all killed. Roxy being maimed the last time he ‘drove’ a vehicle wasn’t even really his fault (she’d had it coming)!

“Not to mention, you are far too short to legally sit in the front seat,” Freddy adds. Bold words for a bot that was built by a company with more OSHA violations than an oil spill.

“Freddy. Vanessa. Cmon, you guys… This is an emergency!” Gregory pleads. Vanessa ignores his puppy eyes, even though she can clearly see in the rear view mirror. Freddy doesn’t seem affected by it either. Can’t they hear Cassie’s screams ringing in their ears, too? Don’t they understand the gravity of the situation?

“We want to help Cassie just as much as you do,” Freddy tells him, sensing his rising fear, “but let’s save the reckless endangerment for once we’ve arrived at the Pizzaplex.”

“I’d be good with avoiding it there, too,” Vanessa mutters. What a killjoy. She slams on the brakes to avoid going through the red light up ahead, making Gregory momentarily grateful Vanessa made sure he was wearing his seatbelt before they left (for about five seconds before remembering that he’s supposed to be annoyed with her).

The light takes forever to change back to green, and by the time it does, Gregory has begun anxiously doodling with his fingers on the window. The Fazcraft logo, a cow being abducted by aliens, Freddy in a cowboy hat, a duck with a clump of grapes, a FizzyFazz soda can, a frowny face. He’ll probably be stuck cleaning the marks off the windows later, but at least it gives him something to do besides worrying. Another frowny face. And another. Okay, maybe this isn’t working so good.

“Hey, look. It'll only be a few more minutes. Just hang in there,” Vanessa says when she notices his poor attempt to distract himself.

“Thank goodness. I’m running out of things to draw,” Gregory admits. And draws another frowny face. Because that feels easier than mentioning that every second he’s stuck in this car is another second that Cassie could be laying somewhere dying. Or dead. No- bad idea. Definitely don’t think about it like that. Giving up on his window art, Gregory stares out the window at the darkening sky for the rest of the drive. He’s out of his seat before Vanessa has even parked the car.

He races over to the entrance. It’s not looking so hot. The light of the full moon illuminates boarded up windows and scaffolding. The obnoxiously bright neon lights and signs he remembers from previous visits are all gone now. Broken glass litters the ground in more than one place. If the inside looks as bad as the outside, it’s a miracle that Cassie didn’t get taken down by tetanus long before it got to her. Freddy and Vanessa come to a stop next to him, similarly taken in by the scene.

“Well, I think I know how Cassie got in,” Vanessa muses just as Gregory is about to suggest using Freddy as a battering ram (there isn’t an obvious entry point at the moment and it’s not like it would hurt Freddy). She points a flashlight towards a child sized opening in the newspapered glass on one of the upper levels of scaffolding.

“Guess we better get climbing, then,” Gregory announces, one foot already on a ladder rung.

——

Footnote: If you have never watched a 350 pound animatronic bear try to climb construction scaffolding, you should know that it is simultaneously hilarious and painful to do so.

Freddy’s efforts are valiant, but it’s safe to say that if Fazbear Entertainment ever decides to finish repairing the Pizzaplex (which, let’s face it, they won’t), they’re going to need a whole new set of ladders, platforms, and railings. Flat surfaces? Haven’t heard of them. Dents and awkward slants are totally in now. Also, that hole in the glass has always been that size… why do you ask?

Gregory and Vanessa try to hide their entertainment at Freddy’s suffering, they really do. But in the end, they can’t help but share a moment of laughter as he clatters down the final ladder and onto the floor inside the Pizzaplex. Freddy pauses to glare at the contraption before joining them, acting as though it was placed there specifically to inconvenience him.

“Take this before we go any further,” Vanessa says, handing Gregory one of the flashlights she’d packed before they left (along with a first aid kit and several other items she thought they might end up needing). She isn’t too worried about Freddy, what with him still having Roxy’s upgraded eyes, but Gregory is already a tad accident prone without blindly stumbling through a pitch black space filled with deadly objects. She’d really appreciate it if they make it through the rest of the evening (or however long they end up stuck in this hell hole) without anyone else getting hurt and/or trapped somewhere.

Gregory waves the flashlight around like a lightsaber, nearly blinding Vanessa. She briefly considers legally changing his middle name to ‘Distractible’, but decides that it’s not worth the effort. The flashlight beam bounces off an assortment of debris, construction equipment, deactivated floor bots, cleaning supplies, and several spray paint messages left behind by previous trespassers.

“Wow…” Gregory comments, looking around the ruined lobby, “they’ve really let this place go.”

“You can say that again,” Vanessa agrees.

“They have really let this place go,” Freddy repeats, taking her literally. “I am a bit disappointed that Corporate would neglect things like this.”

“It is kinda sad,” Gregory agrees. The Pizzaplex used to be so impressive (Fazbear Entertainment had clearly put a lot of time and money into the place) and now it looks like the setting for a post apocalyptic thriller. He remembers being a little in awe the first time he saw the giant golden statue in the lobby. But now, especially after everything he’s been through, the place gives him the creeps. The things that have happened here are not worthy of any awe. Probably just anger and disgust, along with a healthy dose of fear.

“So, uh, question,” he says, not wanting to dwell on his lingering trauma, “how exactly do we get,well, anywhere in this mess?” There’s a gaping hole in the floor directly in front of them. Shipping crates and safety barriers block off another hole on the left side of the lobby.

Vanessa carefully picks her way around bits of debris and caved in flooring. It’s a shame Gregory hasn’t started watching the security footage a little bit earlier so they’d have a better idea of how Cassie had navigated this mess. Deciding the areas with the biggest holes aren’t worth exploring, Vanessa wanders towards the area that used to house the final set of turnstiles before the entry pass display. Somehow, this area has significantly less damage done to it. If you ignore the headless staffbot in the distance and the spray painted warning that says ‘Danger’. How very welcoming and not foreboding in the slightest!

“The floor seems a little more stable over this way,” Vanessa calls to the others against her better judgement.

31: Fire "We're gonna take control of this dumpster and we're gonna 9/11 it." This is a follow up page after this other one back during mid-inktober:

Did I forget there was an Oct 31st during Inktober? No, I got busy, put the drawing idea off for one day, then all of a sudden it was 2 months later. Here you go.