Nathaniel rose to shake his hand. Jerome hesitated before taking it, perhaps uncertain what a general could possibly have to say to someone who had once entered a guilty plea. "I'm sorry I didn't know your name before this," Nathaniel told him. "You didn't have a reason to," Jerome replied. Nathaniel shook his head. "That's what needs to change."
Reverend Roer returned to the podium carrying a sealed envelope. He said he had received a statement from Dale Cheney, the retired chief and father of Brett Cheney, who had declined to attend the gathering himself. The crowd became quiet. Dale had ruled the department for years, and even residents who disliked his methods knew that his approval had helped decide who advanced and who was pushed aside.
Roer opened the envelope and read. Dale condemned his son's conduct, said Brett had disgraced the badge, and acknowledged that the culture of loyalty he had promoted had helped make the abuse possible. He said he was ashamed and could no longer stand behind Brett. The final sentence announced that he was publicly severing ties with his son.
The statement stunned the crowd, but Ruthie Langford did not applaud. She sat very still, looking at the podium with an expression Nathaniel could not quite read. When he asked if she was all right, she answered that she had heard Dale Cheney make fine speeches before. Then she returned her attention to the people standing near the road, and Nathaniel did not press her further.
Afterward, George Pitman remarked that a father disowning his son made a dramatic headline but did not explain how the son had learned the same habits. "Dale was chief a long time," he said. "He knew what people said about that road. So did everybody who worked under him." Nathaniel agreed. He had no interest in substituting one family's public quarrel for a complete examination of the department's history.
The legal proceedings continued while the town absorbed the rally. Simone and her civil-rights counsel filed a federal action against the individuals and municipality they believed responsible for Nathaniel's constitutional injuries, seeking damages and reforms supported by the evidence. Other motorists with viable claims began consulting their own lawyers about joining or pursuing related suits. The complaint described the Fourth and Fourteenth Amendment issues raised by the stop, detention, and alleged discriminatory enforcement, while preserving the distinction between accusations and matters already proved.
The initial demand was substantial, approaching forty million dollars across the related claims and requested damages. Reporters focused on the number, which sounded impossible for a small town like Carthage. Simone was less interested in whether the headline seemed dramatic than in whether the pleadings accurately identified the people harmed, the conduct alleged, and the changes necessary to prevent repetition. She reminded Nathaniel that a money judgment would not automatically rewrite a department's policies or repair Jerome's criminal record.