<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
9102150631
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
911208
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, December 08, 1991
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
COM
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1F
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>
COMMENT
</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1991, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
RAPE TRIAL: SOAP THAT LEAVES US FEELING DIRTY
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
My grandmother used to watch soap operas; she called them her "stories." On
any weekday afternoon, you could find her in her rocking chair, talking to the
TV screen, saying things such as "Oooh,  that rat!" and "She's just after his
money." At the end of each program,  she would guess what would happen next:
which long-lost brother would show up, who was having whose baby.

  My grandmother  would have loved TV this week; CNN broadcasting the William
Kennedy Smith rape trial, gavel-to- gavel, complete with close-ups of
teardrops, and commentators who appeared in little boxes, like John Madden  at
a football game, saying "I don't think that witness helped." At night, there
was "CNN Special Report: The Trial Of William Kennedy Smith," co-hosted by
Bernard Shaw, of Iraqi war fame.

  You might  wonder why CNN, a network supposedly devoted to 24-hour news
coverage, would broadcast every sigh, yawn and paper shuffle of a single Palm
Beach, Fla., courtroom, day after day -- until you looked at  the ratings.
They were through the roof!
  And here's why: It has little to do with rape. Sadly, this is about The
Kennedys, our nation's Royal Family, "Dynasty" without makeup, John, Bobby,
Jackie,  Teddy, Ethel, Willie, the living, breathing soap opera characters of
an American afternoon.
'The Young and the Restless' 
  So this week we watched, between commercials, as the alleged victim told
of meeting this "nice young man" at a bar, going with him to the Kennedy
mansion, forgetting where she left her shoes and panty hose, walking the beach
behind the house, and being suddenly raped. We  heard testimony by her
spaced-out friend, a former model, who claimed the alleged victim was
"hysterical" after the incident, but also admitted she (the friend) had sold
her account for $40,000 to a  tabloid TV show, then ran off to Mexico.
  We watched Teddy Kennedy, now a pathetic character, take the stand and talk
about that night when family members reminisced about the death of Smith's
father,  and Teddy was so distraught that "I couldn't possibly sleep" so,
naturally, he grabbed son Patrick and nephew Willie and headed for Au Bar, a
local watering hole, where they met the woman. We heard Teddy  swear he didn't
hear screams later that night, even though his window was open and the alleged
rape took place just yards from the house.
  We heard everything. About underpants that were vacuumed for sand --
vacuumed underpants? --  and about semen on a new black dress, and about Smith
telling his cousin "thank God I pulled out." We heard this incident called
both  "a vicious rape' and "an act  of love." And then we cut to a Jordache
commercial, in which a woman in a tight mini-dress squirms against a wall
while a handsome man rips his clothes off in front of her.
  Ratings soared. Viewers  were fascinated. 
  What does that say about us?
As mythical as Camelot 
  In England, this is how they treat Prince Charles and Princess Diana;
every rumor, every sneeze, is captured and reported.  In America, we do the
same to the Kennedys; Jackie takes an editing job: BIG STORY! John Kennedy Jr.
fails his bar exam: BIG STORY!
  Why? The tragic deaths of the Kennedy brothers are now more than  two
decades past, and evidence suggests that John, who began all this frenzy, may
not have been a very good president after all, and supposedly had
extra-marital affairs all over the White House. People  don't care. They love
the idea of him. Ted Kennedy is an alcoholic, plain and simple; his social
behavior in private circles is allegedly up there with John Belushi in "Animal
House," yet it doesn't  matter; he gets re- elected and re-elected. 
  We like the Kennedy idea. We like the image. But there's a danger in all
this. And it's become a disturbing question about much of today's news: Are we
 watching because it's important, or because it titillates us? 
  Face it. Horrifying rapes occur every day in America:  women jumped, held at
gunpoint. Yet those stories are buried in the back of newspapers.  Ah, but
when a Kennedy is involved! In Palm Beach! At the mansion! Now we're
interested. What does that say to other rape victims?  Experts warn that soap
operas are dangerous when you start to think  they're real; but what about
when you will only see reality as a soap opera?
  It would be nice if this trial led to a better understanding of rape, the
horror, how to stop it. I'm afraid it won't.  I'm afraid most people are
watching this the way my grandmother watched her stories; they keep score,
guess about tomorrow's episode. And when it's over, they go to the next juicy
program.
  I find  this almost as disturbing as the alleged crime itself. Maybe some
good will come out of all this TV coverage. I doubt it. Right now, the only
thing I see coming out, quite frankly, is a mini-series.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
RAPE;  TRIAL; COLUMN
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
