Skip to content
Link copied to clipboard

Stu Bykofsky: Can you hear us now? Good

THE HALF-DOZEN dogs on the sidewalk, brought by their guardians to the "Justice for Edna" rally, didn't get it. Just dogs, on leashes, outside Verizon's Arch Street headquarters, they couldn't understand why more than 50 people had gathered with posters, and why Bill Whiting was talking trash about the telecommunications giant.

THE HALF-DOZEN dogs on the sidewalk, brought by their guardians to the "Justice for Edna" rally, didn't get it.

Just dogs, on leashes, outside Verizon's Arch Street headquarters, they couldn't understand why more than 50 people had gathered with posters, and why Bill Whiting was talking trash about the telecommunications giant.

Whiting is one of two victims of a horrible crime with a sick psychological component. The other victim was Edna, a sweet beagle mix with brown eyes and bunny ears that had been Whiting's constant companion for a decade. Yesterday, on a cloudy day made cold by wind gusts, animal-lovers listened to Whiting demand that Verizon be a better corporate citizen.

It began on Halloween night, when Whiting was visiting a friend in the Italian Market area. With trick-or-treaters coming and going, Edna somehow slipped out the door and disappeared.

Whiting plastered the area with posters picturing Edna and offering a $500 reward. For 10 days, he heard nothing.

Then came a call on Nov. 10 at 11:58 p.m. from two punks who said they were 9 and 16, that they had Edna and wanted more than the $500 reward. One taunted Whiting by saying, "You don't believe me, Mister. Let me hurt it so you can hear."

Whiting's heart clenched when he heard a dog yelp in pain over the phone. He believed that two monsters had the little brown dog who had never known anything but kindness from human hands.

The extortionists hung up. Whiting, 57, immediately called police to report the extortion attempt. At 3 a.m., Whiting got another call. The pair said they had killed Edna.

What followed was a long, excruciating process as police sought phone records from Verizon. (Phone records eventually led to suspect Victor Rodriquez, 15, who faces trial Monday on extortion, criminal conspiracy and criminal mischief charges. As a first-time offender he might not get jail time, but being as he reportedly is not enrolled in school, some form of close supervision should be mandatory.)

"The police investigation of this crime was hampered by Verizon's policy of charging law enforcement for searching phone records, even when there's a legal warrant in place," Whiting told the rally.

"Inadvertently, this creates red tape while valuable time is lost."

Whiting, who is employed by Penn's Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, and has almost used up his comp time seeking justice for Edna, had with him a printout of an online petition created by animal-rights advocates. The petition, which calls upon Verizon to cooperate with police fast and for free, has more than 5,000 signatures. It's as thick as the Philadelphia phone book.

"I cannot think of an acceptable reason why any good corporate citizen would not provide police with timely information, free of charge," Whiting insisted.

The unhappy task of accepting the gaily wrapped book of petitions fell to Verizon's senior VP of media relations, Eric Rabe, who did so with a tight face.

Verizon takes the case seriously, Rabe told me. It sympathizes with Whiting, understands his frustration and anger, but feels his anger is "misdirected." Verizon did cooperate with police, and the national company receives 15,000 law-enforcement requests each year and charges only for those that require "extra work." In the Edna case, police were charged $150. Verizon made "no profit" on it, Rabe said. (Verizon's 2007 revenues were $93.5 billion, up $5.3 billion over 2006.)

The charges are legal, Verizon says.

The protesters talk "justice" and Verizon talks "legal."

Like the dogs, Verizon doesn't get it. *

E-mail stubyko@phillynews.com or call 215-854-5977. For recent columns:

http://go.philly.com/byko.