CHAPTER 3: EULOGY

Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, my name is Alana Hysell and on behalf of Claire Kincaid's family I would like to welcome you to the Ginghampton Funeral home today.

Claire's family has asked me to say a few words about Claire.  Following the eulogy, Claire's friend Marian Adams will play a few pieces of music that Claire loved, and then there will be a reception in the Marley room.  Claire's family has asked me to remind you all that in lieu of flowers, if anybody wishes to show their respects to Claire they may do so by donating to the Manhattan Battered Women's Shelter.

(small pause)

We all like to think well of the dead.  In this profession, we often come across people who are eulogized in death and whose lives are whitewashed to an extent that makes them unrecognizable to those left behind.  And those of us who try to find out a little bit about the deceased become rather cynical, used to hearing the half-truths, the little sidesteps of the real person in an effort to make them seem like saints.

But what has come through in my talks with those who were close to her is that there is no need to whitewash Claire Kincaid's life.  She was a genuinely good person.  She was dedicated, idealistic, caring.  She strove to do what was right, to make the world a better place for her having been in it.  She graduated near the top of her class from Harvard law school, she could have taken any number of high-paying jobs with any number of law firms... but instead she chose to dedicate herself to represent the people, and bring to justice those who committed crimes.  Not as high-paying.  Not as glamorous.  Not as easy.  But that wasn't what Claire wanted; she wanted to make a difference, and she did.

And she didn't just stop there.  She wasn't afraid to disagree with her superiors when she thought they were wrong.  She wasn't afraid to stand up for herself, for what she believed in.  She wasn't even afraid to question herself, to challenge herself, when she felt conflicted in her own beliefs.

On the last day of her life, Claire Kincaid witnessed an execution.  She went because she felt she had an obligation to do so.  She had helped to convict a man, helped to bring him to the executioner's table, and she felt she had to witness for herself what her actions had helped to bring about.  And this in spite of the fact that Claire didn't agree with the death penalty, that she had argued against it, that if she had had a choice that man would not have been executed.

That was Claire.  She didn't hide from anything, didn't avoid anything.  She faced it, examined it, dealt with it.  Socrates once said that an unexamined life is not worth living.  Claire Kincaid's life was worth living.  Until the very last day of her life, she was thinking about what was fair, what was right, and what her role was to ensure that the right thing happened.

The world needs more people like Claire Kincaid.  She will be sorely missed, not only for her warmth and her caring, but for her courage and conviction.  She will be missed, not only by her friends and family, but by all of those people in this world who need someone like her to fight for their rights, for justice, for a better world.

(pause)

Now we will hear from Ms. Adams.

ooo000ooo

Author's Notes: BTW, the answering machine messages aren't canon, they're from Kyllikki's awesome fic, Deus Ex Machina.  I liked it so much I just had to refer to it, with permission of course :)

If anybody wants the actual script for Aftershock, e-mail me at

ciroccoj2002 at yahoo dot com