NCSB Journal Summer 2026

We put our guests at the center of our efforts so that they can walk into a one-stop shop for hope, healing, and justice. Instead of racing around to different places to get the help they need, guests arrive at a place where professionals are all co-located under one roof.

becoming the DA so young was that I had hit “judicial retirement,” but I still had a desire to serve and continue to fight for vic tims and their families. I wanted to create a place that could help serve the most vulner able in our society: victims of child abuse, sexual assault, elder abuse, domestic vio lence, and youth violence. The idea for a CJC was born. The sale of the hospital and the creation of the New Hanover Community Endow ment (NHCE) presented an opportunity. The mission of the NHCE perfectly aligned with the Starfish Model. The four pillars for mak ing funding decisions at the NHCE tracked the inalienable rights that are the foundation of our democracy: 1. health (life), 2. safety (liberty), 3. education, and 4. economic op portunity (the pursuit of happiness). In part nership with the Harrelson Center, I applied for and received just over $5 million in a strategic grant to create the CJC. There was a part of the old jail that had never been renovated: the tower located toward the back of the property. I worked with Bruce Bowman, a wonderful architect who had designed the Cobb Annex at the courthouse in 2002. We then partnered with Ken Dull of McKinley Builders to complete ly renovate the space. For Ken, the work was personal. His wife was the original director of the Harrelson Center, and the newly ren ovated tower is now called “The Vicki Dull Annex.” I next turned to the professionals at Big Sky Design—an all-female owned and operated interior design company. They cre ated a trauma-informed space that is simul taneously welcoming and a cocoon of safety. Next, I needed to engage the right lead ers. I incorporated the CJC as a non-profit, 501(c)(3) corporation and worked with Meade Van Pelt, executive director of the Harrelson Center, to find a Board of Directors that would help carry out our vision. To diversify the leadership, we recruited two members from the center of the starfish and two from each arm, resulting

in a 12-person team made up of some of the best minds in our region to help us shape the overall mission and vision of the CJC. I then turned inward. I agreed to be the CEO of the CJC for the three-year life of the NHCE grant but I needed help. Eight career prosecutors and victim witness legal assis tants from the DA’s Office agreed to join me as the first employees. I also turned to New Hanover County Sheriff Ed McMahon and Wilmington Police Chief Donny Williams to ask for their support. They responded by assigning a dozen detectives and investigators to the CJC from the Special Victims Unit, the Crimes Against Children Division, Domestic Violence investigations, and com mand staff from their respective agencies. Our three agencies had long adopted a police/prosecutor approach to combating these toughest cases. But we needed more resources under one roof to focus not only on holding offenders accountable, but to make sure that victims could receive imme diate assistance and long-term support. Several of the most established non-profits in our community signed onto the team: Coastal Horizons: Rape Crisis Center, Carousel Center Child Advocacy, the Department of Social Services, Domestic Violence Shelter & Services, and Novant Health. Where the Starfish Model was originally a way of conceptualizing how to build resilience through the structure of communi ty, I realized that we could also apply it to the five ways in which the CJC would serve vic tims of violence. We put our guests at the center of our efforts so that they can walk into a one-stop shop for hope, healing, and justice. Instead of racing around to different places to get the help they need, guests arrive at a place where professionals are all co-located under one roof. Testimony: A woman leaving an abusive relationship tells her story, on average, nine times. How many times would you repeat a

story before you thought no one was listen ing? How often would that story change, especially when you are in crisis? At the CJC, a survivor tells the story once on videotape, surrounded by support and all the professionals who need to hear that story to do their jobs. Securing the testimo ny of a witness is the first way to hold offenders accountable. Physical Evidence: Corroborating testi mony with physical evidence is paramount and time is of the essence. The CJC has detectives with cameras to document abuse and cellphone technology to turn a “he said she said” case into a “they texted it” case. There are also nurse examiners available onsite to document any physical injuries. Collecting physical evidence is the second way to hold offenders accountable. Civil Law: Approximately 50 people come to the courthouse each week seeking a domestic violence protective order. These unrepresented individuals are directed by bailiffs and the clerk of court to the CJC to receive assistance. Many not only obtain a restraining order, but also report their crimes for the very first time. Judges can hear these cases remotely from our virtual courtroom without the guest having to go across the street to the courthouse. Breaking down the walls between civil, family, and criminal courts has been an important step in taking unreported cases out of the shadows into the light of the justice system. Healing: Survivors must confront the inevitable post-traumatic stress they have experienced. Victims have rights. But rights without resources are empty promises. At the CJC, our in-house partner agencies align survivors with the support they need for the physical and mental injuries they have experienced. Ultimately, the CJC is a trauma center. Hope: It turns out that hope is a strategy. To break free from the cul-de-sac of abuse,

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THE NORTH CAROLINA STATE BAR JOURNAL