A Bad Afternoon for James Ray

Many people are asking me about the details of James Arthur Ray on the day he was convicted, June 22, 2011.

As soon as the last "guilty" verdict was read, Prosecutor Sheila Polk asked that Ray be taken into custody immediately, but she did not prevail. James Ray was not cuffed and he left the courthouse on his own power. However, he did not leave through the front doors like everyone else. He successfully gave the slip to this crowd of reporters waiting for him outside.


I was sitting behind him, so those watching on TV had a better view of his face, but his reaction was overall subtle. No outburst, no sinking of the head or expressive gesture. However, real courtrooms give a measure of suspense you don't get on Perry Mason. The clerk reads out a very long sentence which feels very much like "We the jury of Yavapai County in the state of Arizona in the Western Hemisphere in this, the 21st century which started 11 years ago, having considered the crime of..." You get the picture. It's a long sentence before you hear the words you're interested in. And on Wednesday, June 22, the first words that James Ray could have possibly been interested in that he heard were "Not Guilty."

Luis Li, his lead attorney, immediately reached for his client's shoulder in triumph.

But the long sentence wasn't over. Soon came the real truth and that was that James Ray had been found guilty of... Negligent Homicide. In all three cases.

So Li's hand stayed on his shoulder but now it was for comfort and support.

Sitting behind Ray was his family, his parents and his brother, and behind them, one of the attorney's sons had come to watch him work on a big trial of national interest.

Afterward, Sheila Polk answered questions about the procedure upcoming, but she was very careful to give responses in general about the law, not give any opinions about the verdict.

Defense attorney Truc Do wasn't having any of it. That's her striding across the parking lot, a tiny figure avoiding a big crowd.


Next week her client faces Sheila Polk's aggravation case. This is where the prosecutor puts on witnesses to convince the jury the crime was committed under aggravated circumstances. The jury does not decide the sentence, they do vote on the aggravators. It's like a mini-trial. If they find aggravators, the judge applies enhanced sentencing and it's unlikely Ray will escape jail time. The sentencing comes at a later date, which is as yet undetermined.

The jury was out for less than ten hours. It's difficult to determine exactly how many hours they deliberated because, unlike other trials I've been to, they are allowed to deliberate during lunch if they wish. Since they are still empaneled, we can't ask them if they did. But after a four month trial, with a highly unusual set of facts, less than ten hours seems quite remarkably short to me. I'm guessing most of the deliberation was about whether to apply Reckless Manslaughter or Negligent Homicide and very little discussion about acquittal altogether.

Anybody want to know anything specific? Let me know, I'll look for your answer next week when once again, I'll sit a few feet away from Mr. James Arthur Ray.

Camille Kimball's books are:

What She Always Wanted

A Sudden Shot

The Mammoth Book of Tough Guys

James Ray is Guilty in Camp Verde

Guilty. Three times. Negligent Homicide.

James Arthur Ray's attorney, Luis Li, grabbed the man's shoulder in a gesture of hope and triumph when the first words were read, "Not guilty."


But that was of the greater charger, Reckless Manslaghter.


A moment later, Li's grasp turned to one of solace as the clerk read out the jury's judgement--
Guilty of Negligent Homicide of Kirby Brown. The pattern repeated itself for the next two names, Liz Neuman and James Shore.

I snapped this photo just after the verdict. Mr. Neuman is in the blue shirt and tie.

The row of loved ones of the dead victims at the front of the courtroom had stood up with their hands clasped, forming a chain of grief and hope, as the jury came into the room.

Afterward, they came outside and faced the media. The man married to Liz Neuman for 23 years, told the assembled reporters and producers that "justice has been served." He had called their children and all were gratified by the verdict. The attorneys are still under a gag order and therefore did not speak to the cameras.

The trial moves into its aggravation phase next week. The jury is still empaneled. Ray is NOT in custody. He remains free on bond until he is sentenced. Or that's how they left it today. Things change--this is court!

Camille Kimball's books are:

What She Always Wanted

A Sudden Shot

The Mammoth Book of Tough Guys

Alex, I'll Take Altered Mental States for $10,000?

"Extreme heat caused their deaths"


Prosecutor Sheila Polk’s turn in front of the sweat lodge jury today. She went through many of the points that defense attorney Luis Li had brought up, but she pointedly skipped others. “I never thought I would have to defend that I’m a working County Attorney,” she shook her head softly, “I’ll leave that alone.”

She listed on a poster three theories of death:

O.P. *
Rat Poison
Extreme Heat

After pointing out that none of the doctors who suggested organo-phosphates may have been involved in the deaths of Kirby Brown, Liz Neuman and James Shore had any clinical experience, either with living patients or in autopsy, with organo-phosphate poisoning: that the doctor who strongly ruled them out had considerable clinical experience with it (and with heat stroke); and that organo-phosphate poisoning requires “copious flow from every orifice--the victims drown in their own spit, often making resuscitation impossible,” Sheila Polk crossed off “O.P.” from her list.



Not only was there a lot of testimony against the rat poison theory, she continued, but rat poison requires the victims to bleed to death. Nobody in the sweat lodge bled to death. She crossed it off the list.

She said to find for these or any other theory, you have to ignore what is “right in front of everyone’s eyes--people were recklessly subjected to extreme heat for two hours.” She pointed out that the same site, the same wood, the same rocks and the same tarps and blankets had been used over and over and over again at Angel Valley for various sweat lodges but that no one ever died or even got sick. “Only when Mr. Ray is conducting the sweat lodge do people get sick,” she said, “It is the extreme way he does it that makes people sick.”

That last one is an interesting point because there are several Native Americans attending the trial. The lady sitting next to me told me she was from the Dine’h tribe. She was here, she said, “because we have to take a stand--this is our religion.” I look forward to hearing more from them. Later, Sheila Polk referred to James Ray’s event as a “bogus sweat lodge” and my bench companion seemed to approve of the remark.

James Ray used more rocks, went twice as many rounds and, while others “gently ladle the water over the rocks, Mr. Ray--” Here Polk was interrupted by Luis Li, for the 6th time that morning. Sidebar. These closings are remarkable for length AND contentiousness.

"It's what he wanted--extreme altered states."

“This case is about a man who marketed himself as an expert, charged $10 thousand dollars (without room and board) and then 3 people in his charge died.”

Her main theme was that James Ray, sitting in the cool while dozens of people around him were in “chaos, carnage and mass suicide” was never alarmed for the unconscious, unbreathing people littered at his feet because “everything that was happening was exactly what he expected and wanted to have happen. This was the ‘extreme altered mental state’ for which they had paid ten grand and he needed to deliver. But that altered mental state is exactly the hallmark of heat stroke.” He didn’t plan for them to die, she said, but he did deliberately bring them to the brink of what is a fatal condition. And that, she said, is the very definition of reckless manslaughter.

She closed with a litany of moments when James Arthur Ray could have stopped the sweat lodge, administered aid, called 911 or even just checked on somebody before declaring “they’re ok” or “leave them alone.” The list was pretty long, over the course of two hours. After each incident, she asked, if he had changed his conduct at that moment, would we be here now?

Mr. Li had criticized her for putting up the photos of Liz Neuman, Kirby Brown and James Shore. She defiantly put them right back up. “I’m reminding you why we’re here,” she said, as their loved ones sniffled in the front row. “They trusted that for $10 thousand dollars he knew what he was doing. He told them to trust him, to ignore their own instincts to survive as their bodies shut down from the incredibly reckless heat challenge he created for them.”

The jury, about half men and half women, all white, all middle-aged or more, was soon escorted out to begin deliberations.

If convicted of reckless manslaughter, the maximum sentence is 37 years. The lesser charge of negligent homicide is about a third of the time. Or, if acquitted, he walks out the front door, free to plan another sweat lodge and recruit more seekers of a higher truth.



*(organo-phosphates from residual pesticides)

Camille Kimball's books are:
What She Always Wanted
A Sudden Shot
The Mammoth Book of Tough Guys

Soaring Rhetoric at the Sweat Lodge Trial

True Crime Author Camille Kimball at the Yavapai County Courthouse for the James Arthur Ray sweat lodge trial. The courthouse vista extends for roughly a hundred miles (look at the far mesa)

James Arthur Ray's lead defense attorney, Luis Li, tried for 2 hard fought days to put a lot of drama into his closing arguments. He held up a fat book, the Arizona Revised Statutes. He stacked documents and exhibits on the railing of the jury box. He stormed out of the courtroom--yes, right past me, and through the noisy double doors behind me--and stalked back in a moment later. He put his hand on the shoulder of earnest looking James Ray. He mocked witnesses, he mocked the prosecutor. He repeated the theme more times than I can count "is this what you want from your government?" in a bold attempt to capitalize on rural political sentiments. He raised his voice in outrage and other times laughed in derision.

Prosecutor Sheila Polk, who still has one more day to argue before the jury, has much less drama in her personality. She doesn’t storm around. Her voice has a pretty narrow range. She lets others do the speaking, though. She plays tapes of the people involved.

We heard 40 year old James Shore, sounding vigorous and keen, tell his fellow participants in Angel Valley that he wanted to “live impeccably.”

Then we saw the details of how he tried to save 38 year old Kirby Brown, calling out for help repeatedly, encouraging her, helping move her and ultimately carrying her out of the sweat lodge. Ms. Polk quietly reminded us that he did all of this while struggling for his own life, a struggle which he lost.

We also heard on audio James Ray’s commanding voice telling his followers (the defense prefers the term “customers”). “I am Alpha and Omega!” He admonished them to “live for others.”

Yet when James Shore was beseeching Ray for help inside the sweat lodge, Ray repeatedly said things like, “they’ll be fine,” “they’re where they need to be,” “door is closed--we’ll deal with it next round.” But Ray never did "deal" with the unconscious, unbreathing people. He asked for more hot rocks, more steam and began new rounds. When James Shore was making his last attempt to survive, lifting the tent flap for air, Ray chastised him and Shore let go. By then, Shore was in such a weakened condition that that brief moment when he let the light in became the last sunshine he ever saw.

As the sweat lodge ended, Ray took a fine seat in a lawn chair in the shade while mayhem broke out amongst his followers (customers), his Dream Team and even employees of the Angel Valley Lodge.

He helped no one. He dragged no one out. He offered no water. He did not give up his chair. He did not do CPR. He did not call 9-1-1. He was even reluctant to have the sweat lodge disturbed when told people were passed out inside. One of those was the mortally weakened James Shore, father of three.

“James Shore wanted to live impeccably,” Sheila Polk reminded us. “The student surpassed the teacher.”

The jury is made up of local Yavapai County residents. I wanted to know how these contrasting types of arguments would fall on local ears. I went into the mini-mart down the road from the courthouse. At the counter I asked the cashier if he had been following the sweat lodge trial.

“Yes,” he told me, "I have."

He had lived in the Verde Valley for 15 years, long enough to think like a native.

“If I were on that jury? I’d vote guilty,” he said. “Ray knew they were exhausted and weak. He knew what he was doing.”

I don’t predict juries. But the cashier’s response is pretty telling. Look at this landscape. I’m standing a few feet from the courthouse. If I turn the camera around, there it is, the courtroom where James Ray is fighting for his right to stay in the daylight. The room is just through that glass, on the upper story.


This is not Beverly Hills. In this stark country, folks know you can’t deprive inexperienced tourists of food and sleep and then expect them to defy authority and save themselves from searing heat. Out here, they know that heat kills. Gynecologists from Alaska and ER docs from Indiana*, medical school notwithstanding, can't be expected to have heat stroke top of mind the way the natives do. As the cashier said, “I’ve lived here 15 years and I know how I’d vote.”

Closing arguments continue next week. Then it will only be a matter of time before we found out how the real jury feels about it.

*Two of the sweat lodge participants and witnesses at the trial.

Camille Kimball's books are:
What She Always Wanted
A Sudden Shot
The Mammoth Book of Tough Guys