the diary of an ex-hostage of the Bataclan, week 13

Since September 8, 2021 the trial of the November 13 attacks is held in Paris. David Fritz Goeppinger, victim of these attacks is today a photographer and author. He agreed to share through this logbook his feelings, in images and in writing, during the long months that this river trial will last. Here is his account of the thirteenth week.

>> The Twelfth Week Journal

Wednesday December 8. When I arrive at the Palace, I notice that it is December 8 and that three months to the day separate us from the launch of the trial. Approximately 64 days of hearing with, in the middle, the five weeks of testimony of the civil parties. Five weeks of expression of pain, mourning and the echo of terrorism in our lives. I remember the first day well, the stress mixed with the excitement I felt before coming.

Even if my daily life on the Île de la Cité has, for ten days, been linked to the statements of Belgian investigators, my days are punctuated by meetings, dialogues and exchanges and I take this opportunity to learn and nourish myself on the file. , jargon and the customs and traditions of the courts. At first, I thought I would go through the nine months in the loneliness and cold of the Palace, but I know today that this will not be the case. I realize that this is where I find all the richness of what I live from day to day. These meetings, in addition to the holding and progress of the trial, continue the transformation of the extraordinary experience that I am going through and of which the logbook bears witness. A lot of times people “on the outside” ask me what plans I have for post-trial. I imagine that the deafening void that the “nine months” will leave may be difficult and violent, but, as usual, I try to find countermeasures to these rough edges of my life as a victim of terrorism. For example, one of the ways to counter this future vacuum is to find a publishing house in order to publish a book on the logbook as well as the trial.

On a personal level, I have the feeling of being in a tunnel that follows Parisian life at the same time and I don’t think I’m the only one to think so. In the small “village” represented by the Palais de Justice and more specifically the sanctuary, we are aware of being together in a kind of different time frame. I have the impression, every day, of living two very distinct days. There are those mornings when I try to take care of all the extras until the other one starts at 12:30 and ends at no time. My relatives (who read the newspaper or not), try to understand what I’m going through and ask me sometimes very specific questions and others less, but all of them try to understand what it feels like to be there.

Finally, this logbook reached the idea I had at the time of its creation: an internal point of view of the trial and an open window on my thoughts.

After three months of hearing, this is where my analysis is with regard to the audience and my life. As I write these words, a new Belgian investigator is looking back on the journey of two of the three defendants present free at the hearing.

I finish writing the ticket at home.

Until tomorrow.