Tipton belongs to a group of 25 families that lost sons at fraternities in recent years. They are forcing universities and legislatures to publicize fraternity infractions, rein in their behavior and toughen the penalties after injuries and deaths. Grieving families are pushing to investigate deaths once dismissed as roughhousing gone wrong. Parents like Deborah Tipton are fighting to pierce the veil of secrecy that has protected fraternities for two centuries on American college campuses. “What they’re hoping is I’ll go away,” she says. Walt Jones, the supervising assistant district attorney in High Point, says there is no evidence of a homicide or any reason to reopen the case. The judge also removed the national fraternity, which declined to comment for this story, from the suit the remaining defendants are two fraternity members, who deny wrongdoing. “We continue to be saddened by the loss of Robert Tipton, whose tragic death at an unaffiliated, off-campus-housing apartment complex six years ago was ruled a drug overdose by the state medical examiner,” Haynes says. The court ruled that, under the law, the school and its administrators did not have a duty to protect Tipton, a decision that was upheld on appeal. Spokeswoman Pam Haynes, declining to make Qubein or other officials available for interviews, notes that a judge removed the university from a wrongful-death lawsuit the Tipton family filed. The university said it “strongly rejected” Deborah Tipton’s accusations. In 2010, the police department named him an honorary colonel. Qubein, whose $2.35 million in annual compensation makes him one of the highest-paid college presidents, has donated to – and raised tens of millions of dollars for – the city of High Point. Since 2005, Qubein has raised more than $300 million for the school, transforming it from a sleepy Methodist institution to a lavishly appointed campus of outdoor hot tubs and big-screen dorm TVs that draws affluent students from across the U.S. In her view, the police have no interest in going after one of the community’s most influential institutions. Tipton says the university is covering up the truth, in part because the son of High Point University President Nido Qubein belonged to the fraternity. High Point University had insisted on a subpoena before providing names, she said, but the police department never sent one. “How and where did they come from? Talk to Frat Brothers.” The detective later acknowledged she never did. The autopsy photos showed that he had angry purple bruises on his face, around his neck and on his legs and buttocks, as well as a jagged gash on his head.Ī police detective had jotted down notes.
#DELTA SIGMA PI UGA FULL#
Four years after Robert’s death, her team got its hands on the full police file. Case closed.Īnd Tipton says she has found plenty to make her question the official story. The authorities would later rule his death an accident, a drug overdose, another example of fraternity partying run amok. Robert, 22 and a junior at High Point University in North Carolina, was dead. Tipton has struggled to untangle the last hours of her son’s life ever since March 26, 2012, the balmy Monday when police officers gave her the news. They’re just going to yell at us a bunch and maybe make us work out or eat something nasty. “What could they do that’s so bad in two hours.
I didn’t even sleep last night and was shaking.” As if searching for a clue from beyond the grave, she pores over the most painful pages, the ones containing text messages from her dead son. In her grand Memphis home, the scene of elegant dinner parties and fundraisers, police reports and private investigators’ notes cover an antique dining table. It’s almost midnight when Deborah Tipton settles down to study the evidence once again.
0 kommentar(er)
