The hardest part...part 3/4

Asleep in her bed with her little ones, she hears their dog begin to bark.  Though his barking is not unusual, the time of day is very unlike him.  It is 2 in the morning.  Before she can register why he is barking, the lights from her bedroom ceiling burn her eyes and she shields them while simultaneously pulling her little ones into her embrace.  She hears yelling, she feels scared and she sees the large barrel of a narcotics task force deputy's gun as it is shoved in her face.  She is asked repeatedly "where is he, where is he, where the fuck is he" as she tries to explain to the agents that her boyfriend does not and has not ever lived with her.  As she tries to calm the trembles she feels coming from the small frame of her 4-year-old daughter, she can hear other agents throughout her home, tearing it apart.  Although the agents don't seem to be hearing her, she continues to try to get them to listen:

"He doesn't live here, there aren't any drugs here, I don't know what you are talking about!"

The agent who appears to be in charge of this operation turns to two other agents and declares "if she keeps getting smart with me I'm going to have to take her in the other room."  They all laugh, and though she does not get the 'joke' she understands that he is not joking, so she stops trying to plea.

Finally, the agent in charge reaches into his pocket, walks over to a wall-mounted book shelf and "finds" a small bag of marijuana "IN PLAIN SIGHT" (magic words are important).  He tells her that she has 3 days to turn her boyfriend in, or they will come looking for her.

Hours after the house has fallen silent, she cannot get her 2-year old twin boys to go back to sleep.  Months after they have left to visit her mother, she cannot get her 4-year old daughter to go back to the house, or to stop wetting herself.  Her little girl now has to see a child psychologist so that she can try to "work out" why the big man with the shiny badge held the black gun in her face while the other big man with the shiny badge yelled at her mommy.

The hardest part is hearing stories like this one, BELIEVING stories like this one and knowing there is no way I can prove it.  Unless the 4-year old and the twins are coming to court to testify, it is the word of 5-6 agents against my lady.  Unless she has a surveillance camera set up in her bedroom, the judge has the option of believing her, or believing a "man of the badge" with 10+ years under his belt.  But she is sitting across from me, crying, shaking, hurting and asking for me to just believe her.  Just believe in her.  Just fight for her. 

Picture Rocky IV, Apollo is dead, Drago is psychotic and you just know this isn't going to end well.  Rocky gives up the home field advantage, everyone in the audience is rooting for Drago, Adrian is there but she is scared for Rocky's life and he has had to pretty much train on his own.  But he is resolved to fight.  Though the odds are against him, he is resolved to see this through to the end.  The hardest part is suiting up when I feel like I am going into a battle already lost, but I know that I have to fight anyway.  So I assure my lady that I believe her, I believe in her and I will fight for her.

Those punches are going to hurt, and I can't help but feel like my inevitable loss will add fuel to the consuming fire these agents are intent on spreading throughout the poor community; but I have to do it.  Days like this, I hate to admit it but, I do not want to be a public defender.  I don't even want to be a criminal defense attorney.  The anger I felt after hearing my lady's story was matched only by my overwhelming sense of helplessness.  How do you fight a system that is set up to essentially always believe the police?  Even when the judge and jury KNOW it could not have happened the way the officer, agent or deputy have testified, something inside of them refuses to believe that it could have happened any other way.  I believe the reality is they do not want to believe the horror these law enforcement officers force people to experience.  To accept that your life can be turned upside down just because someone with power decided that is how is going to be, with no other explanation...it's enough to make you beyond scared of what our world has come to.  Trust me, I know.  I now carry a toxic mixture of fear and hate in my heart for law enforcement.  I have been seriously considering getting cameras installed in my home as well as my vehicle. 

I never want to be in a situation where it is their word against mine.  That is a gamble not worth the ante.  I do not believe in our system well enough to make that bet.  That is the hardest part.

Until next time,

Be blessed, be careful, don't confess and don't consent.

~LT


UPDATE:
Not guilty! Now put THAT in your pipe and smoke it!

The hardest part...part 2/4

Today I had a bench trial, and I would have bet you my first born that I was going to be successful for my client. (OK, maybe not my FIRST born but definitely any future children).

I was prepared to rip the officer a new one on the stand, I was prepared for my oral motion for judgment of acquittal, I was prepared to every objection the state could send my way. I was prepared.  The trial begins and I realize that I do not have to try as hard as I initially thought.  The officer is being pretty cooperative on the stand, giving me everything that I need for my upcoming JOA and giving me a little bit more to work with.  His direct was helpful; his cross, my cross was beautiful.  So I get to the JOA, encompass a motion to supress in there (it's a misdemeanor bench trial and that's how they do them in my jurisdiction.  Yup, right in the middle of the trial), deliver it flawlessly and the judge denies them both.

On the outside I stay cool. But on the inside.......

The officer in this case admitted that they had an arrest warrant for my client.  They went to the place they believed to be his home in order to execute the warrant.  When they get there, no one answers the door.

They listen.

No movement inside. No television on.  No stereo system playing.  No furniture being moved.  No sound of whispering or tip-toing.  The apartment is on the 2nd level but they still have officers stationed in the back; no one reports any windows being opened, any blinds being 'peered through' and no one trying to escape. 

So what do the officers do? Why they let themselves in of course!

According to the judge I was in front of today, as long as the officers had a felony arrest warrant, they could have kicked this kids door in as far as he was concerned. 

The hardest part of my job is when you have to swallow the very large pill that brings you back to reality.  The reality is that lady justice does have on a blindfold but it is see-through.  The material has worn so thin and not only can she see you, you could make out her eyes as well if you wanted to do so.  The hardest part of my job is when you realize there are some members of the 'courthouse workgroup' that need a refreasher course on what the 4th amendment means.  Fortunately, we appealed the case and I will get another crack at it.  Unfortunately, I'm not sure the outcome will be that much better.  We seem to be losing the fight ladies and gents.  But we keep on fighting the good fight.  That has to be the hardest part...

Until next time,

Be blessed, be careful, don't confess and don't consent.

~LT

The hardest part...part 1/4

I did something today that I know was wrong.  I do not know how long it is going to bother me or how long it is going to be hard to live with myself but right now I cannot stand to look in the mirror.

Today I stood next to my client as she pled to an offense that I so desperately wished she would take to trial.

As I prepared for this trial I could feel the blood rushing to the surface of my skin, I'm tingling all over and just outright excited.  The police officers did not do everything anything they were supposed to do when investigating the alleged crime, the prosecutor was stuck and he knew it.  So he offered to dismiss the case upon completion of a court diversion program.

In our office we sit two attorney's to a jury trial. Always. Even if you plan on doing everything from voir dire to closing, you have to have a second set of eyes and ears there with you, just in case.  Since I may be leaving soon (and my supervisor knows this despite the fact that we have not discussed it) it was suggested that I ask him to be my 2nd chair.  He has seen me do a cross-examination in one of his cases when I first started and has not been in court to 'supervise' me doing a thing since then.  So I ask him.  Mistake #1.

Let me digress for a moment.  I love trying cases, I love winning; I love trying cases and winning.  The only way to win is if you try cases.  There is no better place to try, try and try again when it comes to the legal field, than in the public defenders office (or a prosecutor).  So when I say I was ready to try this case, I WAS READY!  My supervisor had a different opinion.  I listened to his opinion. Mistake #2.

          "The only way you can guarantee her a win is with this plea."

          "Your enthusiasm, misplaced as it may be, is refreshing."

          "I am not questioning your ability to win based on your ability,
            I am questioning your ability to win based on the facts."

          "I don't think you have a winner that has the potential to be lost,
            I think you have a loser that can maybe be won."

Sigh, so I sat down and talked to my client about her fears, her concerns and her position on things.  Truth of the matter is, her only concern was money.  A conviction could not only mean jail time but also upwards of $3,000 in fines, costs and program fees.  The diversion program is approximately $755 and $500 of that can be knocked out by the judge waiving some of the costs.

Although I cannot guarantee my client a win, I can guarantee her that I will do my damnedest to get her acquitted.  I can guarantee her that I will do EVERYTHING in my power to show the jury that there is more than enough reasonable doubt to come back with a not guilty verdict.  I can guarantee her that if she is found not guilty that she won't have to pay a dime.  But I cannot guarantee her a not guilty...

...so...

I did something today that I know was wrong.  I do not know how long it is going to bother me or how long it is going to be hard to live with myself but right now I cannot stand to look in the mirror.

The hardest part of my job is standing next to a client entering a plea, while knowing in my heart they should be fighting.

Sigh....

Until next time,

Be blessed, be careful, don't confess and don't consent.

~LT

365 days later...

1 year at the Public Defender's Office on 12/1. 

I have learned that police lie-HORRIBLY and often. 

I have learned that people are willing to risk their freedom on "the principle". 

I have learned that 99% of the time there is nothing just about the justice system but I have also learned that you can make someone's day just by listening to them and speaking to them like a human being. 

I have learned that very few people are all bad or all good. 

I have learned that you must be VERY tactful when bringing to the courts attention that they have f*cked up. 

I have learned that your bad day can be turned around when you get the biggest hug ever from someone's mama even if all you did was get their bond down from $60,000 to $20,000. 

And I have learned that after 10 years of doing this job-I'm sure that I will have plenty more left to learn.....

Until next time,

Be blessed, be careful, don't confess and don't consent.

~LT

Absence makes the heart...

I know, I know.  It's been a very long while and I have neglected you Dear Reader.  Well, a LOT has been going on.  I have sat second chair in a trial, I was asked to sit second chair in a trial that was dismissed at the last minute and I will be sitting second chair in a trial that is coming up.  In the mean time I have spent my days feeling a little more dumb every day.  Not to say that anyone in my office makes me feel that way.  To be honest, my office is kinda great--but each day I feel like there is more and more that I DON'T know.  I can't even get offended every now and then when someone says that they want a new lawyer.  I wouldn't want me either.  I guess my only saving grace is that, although this job wears me out and even though it may be hard for outsiders to tell, I really do care about what I am doing.  I may be a lifer :-)  I will try to be less neglectful to you Dear Reader, though I can make no promises.  I have decided to stop being lazy and to start (and finish) at least one of the books floating around in my head.

Until next time,

Giving it all

I am tired.  Being a public defender is a tired job.  You get tired of your clients not showing up for appointments, dropping by the office without an appointment, not informing you when there is a MAJOR change in their life, informing you of EVERY little change in their life, not taking their case as seriously as you do, picking up new charges before you have finished untangling the current mess, und so weiter.

You get tired of the f*cking police, tired of hearing stories about police officers leaving people in the back of a patrol car with the windows all the way up and the air conditioning turned off.  In the middle of August.  You get tired of hearing prosecutors talk to defendants like they're a piece of shit and then turn around and try to make small talk with you like we're "in this together."  Fuck you, we aren't on the same team.

Mostly I am tired of feeling like I am neglecting my children.  I have left home before 7am every day this week and I have not made it home before 8pm any day this week. 

I love my job.

I love my kids more.

I'm tired.

There, but for the grace of God, go I....

This Friday at 5:00 p.m., I will shut down my computer, I will clear my desk, turn off my heater, shut off the lights in my office and head to the elevator that will shuttle me to the first floor of the County Courthouse.

When I leave the courthouse I will climb in my car and head to my home so that I can see my beautiful, healthy, happy, safe children.  I will enter with an exhausted smile on my face to my youngest laying on the couch playing Angry Birds or Temple Run on the iPod.  I will drop my things, slowly begin to strip in order to feel more comfortable within the confines of my own "four" walls as I give both of my children big hugs. 

Once I have greeted my children we will migrate to the kitchen where they will tell me about their day and their wishes for potential weekend adventures and I will begin cooking dinner.  Once dinner is finished we will eat and talk and then settle in front of the television to watch a movie or curl up on the couches to read books.  After a few hours we will each retire to our own bedrooms, climb into our comfortable beds and proceed to engage in whatever our respective pre-bedtime activities are until we each fall asleep. 

Throughout the night there may be the occasional half-asleep trip to the bathroom or trip for a glass of water from the fridge, but with the exception of the hum from the air conditioning unit and the fans our home will be silent.

**************************************

This Friday at 5:00 p.m., Ms. R will walk into the County jail.  She will be there to turn herself in after having a week to make arrangements for the care of her children as she serves time for a crime she committed under the direction of the man that has been beating her for the last five years of her life.

When Mr. S is released from jail this weekend he will walk home and find that there is an eviction notice on the door.  Although he has not purposefully failed to make his rental payments on time, once his landlord found out Mr. S was in jail she was in no mood to "work with him" and figured the four walls that were currently housing him MUST be where he belonged.  The police wouldn't pick him up for no reason, right?

As Ms. T walks into her home she will do so with a forced smile, although she works as hard as she can her children are hungry, their utilities are overdue and her home is about to be taken away.  She will do her best to place dinner on the table, and in order for her children to have as much as possible, she will go to bed hungry tonight.

Throughout the night, Ms. R will jump each time she hears a yell, a cry the bang of door or the stomp of a foot.  She has lived the last five years in fear and she will spend the next 6 months in escalated anxiety.

Throughout the night, Mr. S will scratch scars into his legs as the mosquitoes eat him up because he is sleeping in the woods underneath a billboard off the side of the interstate.

Throughout the night, Ms. T will try to get rest, while failing to get sleep.  Her hungry body will keep her awake, her mind will race with ideas, both legal and illegal, on how to provide more for her children.

**************************************

I know that I am not where I am today because of anything I have done or failed to do.  I know that as John Bradford once stated, there, but for the grace of God, go I.  One wrong choice in boyfriends and an unknown number of years from my life could have been colored with beatings, sexual assault and forced engagement in criminal activities.  Being caught one time for any of the number of stupid things I chalked up to "just being a kid", "just being a teenager" or "just being a college student" could have landlords throwing me out at the first sign of trouble.  Or worse, refusing to rent to me at all.  ONE mistake, ONE person not caring, ONE missing children's program in my neighborhood, ONE less teacher that didn't care and I could be inmate #35687R24.  I don't pretend to be a big and glamorous lawyer, there really is nothing big or glamorous about anything that I do.  But I have always believed that the best singers make the ugliest faces when they are giving all they have to give in that moment.  The most creative artists rise from their creation covered in paint and chalk and dirt.  The most focused writers finally shake themselves out of their 3-day writing binge with their hair all over their head and stubble on their chin.  When you give all you have, to all that you do, it is not pretty.  I would like to believe that's what I do; I give all I have to what I am doing right now because...well...there but for the Grace of God go I....and you.

Until next time,

Be blessed, be careful, don't confess and don't consent.

~LT