Thank you letter

April 29, 2013

Dear Mrs. PD,

I just wanted to write you and properly thank you for last August.  I have never really told you thank you for being so kind to me when I was upset.  When my only son was taken from the courtroom to jail I thought my heart was being ripped out of my chest.  I was confused, upset, and I felt deserted.  But you showed me a kindness that day I will never forget.  You didn't have to talk to me but you did.  You didn't have to comfort me, but you did.  You didn't have to be kind to me but you were.  You didn't have to be understanding and not judgmental but you were.  And I will always be thankful to God for putting you there that day.  I know He put you there that day for me.  He knew how upset I would be and He knew your heart.  Thank you for helping me that day and thank you for helping Client.  I believe he has come a long way since then.  I know God is working in his life and he will become the man God wants him to be.  It is through our mistakes and wrong turns that draw us to God.

God has put you where you are for a reason and I hope you continue to show people God brings to you the kind and loving spirit that you showed me that day.  You might be their only ray of sunshine.  I put off writing this for  long time, because of the craziness of life.  But every time God would lay that memory of you on my heart so I know that this letter is not only from me but it is from God also.  He wants you to know that you ARE making a difference and He is with you and loves you.  I pray you have a good week and God blesses you every day.

Always grateful,

Client's mom

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This morning I lay in my bed for 15 minutes after turning the alarm clock off, thinking about how I just can't do this anymore.  I lay there and said over and over again "tell me what to do, tell me what to do, tell me what to do."

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After a long, exhausting day in court, I head back to my office with the intention of closing my door and trying not to snap on anyone.  When I first noticed the bouquet of flowers lying across my desk I rolled my eyes and assumed it was from one of my clients who was trying to get fresh.  I opened the accompanying letter, retyped above, and I sat in my office and cried.

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It is the most beautiful thank you I have ever received.

Until next time,

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

~LT

Being Jonah

A few years ago I had a dream.  I was sitting in a little brown rowboat in the middle of a clear blue ocean.  All alone and going nowhere, just sitting.  I was looking down at myself and I could see a huge mouth, beyond the size of the rowboat, wide open and rapidly approaching the surface.  I was about to be swallowed by a REALLY big fish.  I woke up confused about what my dream could mean; partially because I am scared of the ocean and Lord knows there is no way in the world I would be in the middle of the ocean.

  Not in a boat, not on a goat, not eating oats, because I can't float....no thank you Sam-I-Am. 

The second reason my dream was confusing is because I did not see the link between myself and the prophet Jonah; I wasn't running from anything and God was not sending me on any great missions

Jonah was a...unique prophet.  His uniqueness stems not just from his reluctance to follow God's intended direction, but from his outright defiance, his stubborn nature and his unveiled anger.  Being the stubborn person he was, Jonah decided (I'm paraphrasing) "screw the Lord's command, I'm not up for that assignment" and he hightailed it out of town.  Doing the complete opposite of what he was instructed to do.  Jonah soon learns, you will walk the path you were destined to travel, it is up to you whether you get there by discipline or obedience.  Storms were sent, Jonah was thrown overboard, he prayed and was delivered.  The rest of Jonah's tale does not get any better, surprisingly his preaching works, but he is angry that bad people are shown mercy and upset that his comfortable resting spot is destroyed.  Jonah is not the prophet that most people think of when recalling 'great' prophets but Jesus Himself references Jonah when describing his future destiny.

Soooo....why the dream revelation and the little bible lesson on Jonah?  I realized this week that I am Jonah.  There are more days and nights that I do not want to be a public defender than there are where I am glad to hold the title.  As Jonah looked upon the people of Nineveh with disgust and a sense of loss, I often look at law enforcement, prosecutors, judges and, sadly, some of my clients with the same sentiment.  I am ashamed to admit, Dear Reader, that there are some nights that I am angry with God for placing me in this line of work.  And for making me incapable of turning away from it.  My "big fish" that keeps spitting me back on the path I was intended to travel is the 19 year old kid that I visit in jail because when his 14-year-old ex-girlfriend told him she was 18, he believed her.  I pack my bags and climb aboard the ship to Tarshish and then I see a guy brought into the courtroom, wearing an orange jumpsuit and shackles on his feet, simply because he drove with a suspended license, and my "big fish" has me sitting in the chair next to him trying to figure out how I can help.

I find that I am becoming Jonah because while I may be moderately good at what I do, while every now and then the judge, prosecutor or my client may even listen to me as the people of Ninevah did, a small part of me gets angry.  I'm angry that the officer who got caught lying on the stand, gets chewed out by the judge but then released to arrest more people and build a case on his lies.  I am angry with the prosecutor who refuses to make a reasonable offer simply because she has taken something my client allegedly did or said at the time of the offense as a personal affront to her as a human being.  I am angry with the judge that punishes the person who decided to exercise their right to remain silent, with a guilty verdict.  I'm angry with a country that could give a damn about indigent defense or the fact that I carry over 300 ACTIVE cases at one time. I am angry with the client that picks up new charges before I have even finished closing the last open file I had for them.

But mostly I am angry with myself.  I am angry with myself because I was warned not to take the work home with me, not to dream about it, shower with it, eat with it.  I was cautioned against skipping lunch, missing sleep and not taking care of myself as a result of getting engulfed in the lives of everyone riding on my back.  I was warned, but I didn't listen, and now I want to run. 

I find myself pacing in the middle of the night, defiant, reluctant and angry like Jonah; and like Jonah deciding "screw the Lord's command, I'm not up for this assignment."  Then the next morning, I wake up, put on my big girl clothes and head back into Nineveh.

Until next time,

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

~LT

Comic relief

Today I call out into the hallway for my client with the 1:30 p.m. appointment.  He stands up and walks towards me with this gloss over his eyes like he is lost.

We exchange pleasantries as we walk back to my office and once there, I offer him a seat.  He sits down and tells me that I am not what he expected.

Me:    What do you mean, what did you expect?

CL:    I was expecting you to be ...   ...   ... ugly.

Me:    O_o Huh?

CL:    Yeah man, I was expecting you to be ...   ...   ... not ... cute.

Me:    [awkward laugh] ookk, well, I guess that's a good thing that I didn't
           live up to your expectation??

We spend the next 30 minutes having 2 COMPLETELY different conversations.

Me:    Do I have your name spelled correctly here?

CL:    Are you married?

Me:    I have your social as xxx-xx-xxxx...

CL:    You have some very pretty eyes

Me:    Your date of birth is x, correct?

CL:    I should have taken a shower before I came.

Me:    Have you ever been granted YO before?

CL:    Don't I need your personal number in case I need to talk about my
          case after hours?

Yes, you read that correctly. YO.  As in "Youthful offender", as in UNDER 21.  This kid is in some serious big boy trouble and all he can think about is how he wishes he had taken a shower and put on some clothes rather than coming to see me right after the gym.  I try to explain to him that it would not make a difference how he came dressed because I do not date my clients, present or former.  His response?  "Can't they give me another lawyer?" lol

I really needed that laugh today.

Until next time,

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

~LT

Punching bag...

Today in court the judge was calling out the names of people on the docket who were currently in jail.  They call out these names for the attorney's before court gets started so the attorney can let the judge know whether their client needs to be brought over from the jail.  If you have reached a settlement agreement, spoken with your client about it and the agreement is ready to be placed on the record, they need to be brought over.  If you have received an offer, your client declined it, you made a counter-offer and the prosecution declined it and you are just telling the court your client's case is for trial, they need not be brought over.

I did not fall into either of these camps, my kid had already been granted youthful offender status.  He had already entered his plea and had been released.  Three months ago he tested positive for marijuana and then came to court in February and tested positive again.  The judge had him taken into custody and set a $500 cash bond.

Forty-one days later no one in my kids family had bothered to pay the cash bond that would have gotten him released in time for him not to lose his job.  Forty-one days later, no one in my kids family has called to find out if there is any other way to get him out of jail.  Forty-one days later no one in my kids family had even bothered to show up for his court date.

The judge calls my kids name and I announce that he does not need to be brought over from the jail but I would like to address the court about his release.  I advise the court that while my kid did test positive for marijuana he has been reporting to his probation officer regularly, he is not behind on his supervision fees, he is paying the court, not much but on a regular basis, he is working a full-time job and has not picked up any new charges.  The judge chooses this time to crack jokes about how expensive keeping up a marijuana habit is and he has a $500 cash bond that would get him released.  There is more banter back and forth between the judge and the assistant district attorney but I just stand there...

          Unimpressed...

                    Not laughing...

                              Not smiling...

                                        Waiting...........

Finally my judge says "is there anyone in his family out there?"

Me: No sir, no one from his family has ever been outside waiting to speak on his behalf.

Judge: You're just going to stand up there and take all his blows for him, huh?  I'm proud of you.

Me: Judge, since this case started he hasn't had anyone to stand by him but me. No one has ever been outside waiting to speak on his behalf. I am all he's got.

There was some more back and forth but eventually the judge decided to release my kid without posting a bond. 

There is a quote that is attributed to Clarence Darrow:

"To be an effective criminal defense counsel, an attorney must be prepared to be demanding, outrageous, irreverent, blasphemous, a rouge, a renegade, and a hated, isolated, and lonely person...few love a spokesman for the despised and the damned." 

If I can be so bold as to add to his words, I would venture to say that to be an effective criminal defense counsel, an attorney must be prepared to be a punching bag.  Our clients have been broken down so much, so often and by so many different people that allowing the system to do it is like standing by watching a man that is already beat down get kicked in the face.  I will not let you treat me like a punching bag too often, and I am not going to let you punch too hard, but for my clients I will stand in and let you get your few digs in.  The beauty of me standing in and getting beat in lieu of my clients....
....I possess the tools necessary to punch you back :-)

Until next time,

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

~LT

I hate mama's & 'colored'

Nine o'clock docket, I come into the courtroom and look around.

Mr. S is there, great. 

Mr. C is there, great. 

Mr. F...
                                            Mr. F...
                                                                                Mr. F...

Well pluck a duck, Mr.F is not here.  The judge has not taken the bench yet so let's go give Mr. F a call.

Ring...ring...ri-"hello?"

Me: Hello Mrs. F, this is Ms. PD, I am calling because your son, Mr. F has court this morning and he is not present.

Mrs. F: Ooooo, he's not going to be able to make it, he is down here in Florida, I do not think he knew about it.

Me: Ok, well, Mrs. F, the last time the three of us had a discussion about the fact that the only thing he has left to do in his case is pay his court costs and then he does not have to worry about coming to court anymore I confirmed his/your address and that is where I sent his letter.

Mrs. F: Ooooo, yeah.  I was going to call you later this week to let you know we are going to start making payments on that next week.

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Mrs. F: Hello? Ms. PD.

Me: Mrs. F please have Mr. F call me as soon as he gets in, have a great day.

I do not really hate mama's.  I LOVE my mama.  Both of my grandmothers were mama's.  I myself, am a 'mama'.  But mama's make my oh so easy job a lot less easy.  Mr. F's case is eight years old.  You read that correctly.  8, eight, EIGHT.  His case was disposed of eight years ago and all he has left is court costs to pay and he will not have to come back to court.  He has been picked up on outstanding warrants three times.  For money.  He has been held in a local Florida jail until he was brought back to our county two times. For money.  He has spent weeks at a time separated from his kids. For money.  Money which amounts to approximately $500.

That is $62.50 a year.

That is $5.21 a month.

That is $0.17 a day.

I understand that my client's (most of them anyway) are indigent.  I get that a good majority of them would not choose me simply because I am in the public defender's office, yet they are stuck with me because their finances prevent them from hiring private counsel.  I also know that Mr. F has a full-time job and two kids that he is raising.  Those two kids have a mother who shares a household with Mr. F and she is also working.  Even if they were NOT working the entire 8 years it is taking him to pay on this case, a pretty observant person can find SEVENTEEN CENTS A DAY!

So why am I on here sounding like a bad 'Feed the Children' commercial?  What, pray tell, does this have to do with mama'?  Mr. F has not paid his court costs because his mama has been holding his had the whole time trying to come up with a plan for him.  His mama planned on using her income tax refund check to pay it off.  His mama promised that when he received HIS income tax refund check she would ensure it was paid.  His mama called me 3 times a day, EVERY day the last time he was a guest in the local county jail ensuring me that if the judge just let him out, this case would be paid and taken off of every one's list of active cases, four months ago.  His mama has to be privy to every conversation Mr. F and I have.

I get mothers being there for their children.  Sadly, quite a few of my clients show up over and over again for meetings with me or court dockets and their mothers could give two ships about where they are or what they are going through.  But when mama's "help" is making matters worse...well, as I said, just making my oh so easy job a lot less easy.

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I met with a client today.  I asked him to come in for one of our very brief initial meetings so I could explain to him what an arraignment is, where he can expect his case to go from here and to remind him that should any of his contact information change, I need to be notified. 

Of course, as I am pulling up his electronic file our case management system decides to go on break and takes its sweet time loading.  In an attempt to kill some of the silence between us, I confirm with my client that he has done his initial interview ('yes', but I already knew that).  I ask him who did his initial interview (it doesn't matter and I already know that too) and his response causes me to pause:

Client: I didn't catch his name but he was a really nice, young looking colored fella...

                        O_o

                                 ...huh?...

Me: Oh, you mean he was black?

Client: yes ma'am.

Did I mention my client is 42?  Not that him being older would excuse his improper description of one of our investigation interns, but at least I could chalk it up to him being raised during a time when that was how black people were described.  We finished the paperwork, he shook my hand, we exchanged pleasantries about it being nice to meet one another and he went on his way.

There really was not a point to that last one.  Well, maybe except that I hate the term 'colored'. 

If I had not given up drinking, these last two weeks would make Seagram's stock go up drastically...sigh....until next time my precious people.

Until next time,

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

~LT

....And on the seventh day...he rested

Ok, I will give it to you, it has not been seven days.  But seriously, after the week I had-I need a break.  Until next time,

Be blessed.

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!