Devoted advocate inspires, supports Kane County crime victims, families

It was a particularly difficult day in the nine-year struggle to bring the killer of 20-month-old Quortney Cley to justice.

Margaret "Gretta" Morgan's daughter was sexually assaulted and murdered in February 1997 in Elgin by Morgan's live-in boyfriend, Cayce M. Williams,

Judy Bland was the victim advocate assigned to provide support and information to Morgan, but it was Morgan who sent Bland an email that said: "I want to inspire people. I want someone to look at me and say 'Because of you I didn't give up."

Today, these words are posted as a daily reminder to Bland, who has worked for Kane County for two decades, most of that time as the main advocate for victims of violent crimes and their families.

"You just have to be there for them, the ups and downs, and explain things the best you can. Bland says about her role.

"Don't just take for granted that everyone knows the (judicial) process. You have to be patient," she added. "I just listen. That's all people want - to feel like they're being heard," Bland said.

Williams eventually pleaded guilty to sexual assault and murder and was sentenced to 48 years in prison.

But it took nine years of delays, two different judges and seven different defense attorneys before the case was done - and Bland was there every step of the way for Morgan.

Morgan, who has since moved out of state, still keeps in touch with Bland and pursued a career as a paralegal in part because of what she learned following the case.

"I don't think it's just a job for her," Morgan said. "She's always been the person to go above and beyond. She just has that personality that brings it out of you. You feel like talking to her and opening up. That's a special quality she has. They don't realize what they have in the victim's advocate unit with Judy."

Bland said a victim advocate must have good listening skills, be able to explain court proceedings, and not take it personally when victims' families express frustration about court delays or are upset with an outcome.

Bland was downsized in 1993, so she took paralegal classes at Waubonsee and Elgin community colleges. She interned at the Kane County state's attorney's office in October 1996 and landed an administrative assistant position in February 1997. She moved to Victim Services in 1998 and is now director of the Victims' Rights Unit.

Advocates also are a person to lean on, a person to vent to - and in many cases, a shoulder to cry on. One of her roles at the end of a case is preparing victims for the defendant's sentencing hearing where victims and relatives give statements that are very emotional.

"I always tell them 'This is about you and your feelings,'" Bland said. "We want to paint a picture for the judge on how this has affected your life."

The courtroom gallery is frequently filled with tears during these hearings, but Bland's eyes are always dry.

"You have to be neutral in court. You can't show any emotions. You talk yourself into being strong."

Name a major crime or crisis in the last two decades - and it is likely Bland helped people deal with the aftermath.

In January 2003, then-Governor George Ryan commuted the death sentences of 167 people to life without parole, including Luther Casteel, who had been sentenced to die after killing two and wounding 16 in a shooting spree at an Elgin bar in 2001.

Bland joined then-Kane County State's Attorney Meg Gorecki in calling the families of the victims and survivors informing them of what Ryan's action meant. Even people who were witnesses to the shooting needed a phone call.

In February 2008, Bland helped coordinate crisis and grief counselors in the aftermath of the attack by Steve Kazmierczak at Northern Illinois University that killed five and wounded 17 before the gunman turned the gun on himself.

While Bland is a beacon of stability for victims, she admits that after her first day as an advocate, she cried in her car in the parking lot.

"Then I just said, 'You can do this. There's got to be somebody to help people," Bland recalled. "So I was back at work the next day. My old boss said, 'You'll know when it's time to move on.' I haven't felt that yet. I'm very blessed. Every day I walk out of here knowing I made a difference in somebody's life."