Odds and Ends

NPR contacted yours truly to be a part of an online program called “News and Notes.” However, I was unable to participate due to my court schedule. Damn it. It would have been fun. Anyhow, here is the link to the program. The only fault that I have with the program is that two participants are in the “true believer” vein. A differing perspective would have been interesting and would have given the program more levity.

Drug cases make up a good one-third to one-half of the cases that come across my desk. While most clients want “help,” they rarely do anything to help themselves. There are a few that want to be clean and sober. Those clients are the ones where it is easier to help. Yet, it breaks your heart when you see them relapse. Here is a story to illustrate my point. I had a client who was facing a revocation of her probation back in 2007. She was facing three years in prison or go to a prison rehab facility that has a nine month wait. She did not want to go to the prison rehab facility, but to a private non-profit program. She had contacted the program, filled out the paperwork, and got accepted into the program. She did all of this before I was even appointed to represent her. The Judge was resistant at first, but with some time and effort, I convinced the Judge to let her go to the program that she had chosen. She was doing so good. She had moved from the in-patient portion to the work program. In fact, she got a job answering phones at a law office. Earlier this week, I received a frantic phone call from her. She had relapsed twice and was kicked out of the program. At this point, it would have been easy to chastise her for making a terrible choice or to tell her that she was going to die because of her addiction or to make some kind of judgmental statement to her. However, I felt  pity for her because she is addicted to this poison, and sadness that she was possibly going to be separated from her children again. She was begging me to let her stay out long enough to spend time with her children before she turned herself in. My heart sunk in my chest as I told her that she had to turn herself in. I felt a little part of my humanity slip away into nothingness. So, I told her that I understood if she spent some time with her children before turning herself in, but I could not condone it as her attorney.

My client that was charged with murder hired a private counsel, and so did my armed robbery client. Each of the private counsels that have taken over these cases have praised me on the work that I have done. Yet, I am still pissed off that these clients think that I have done nothing on their cases. Plus, I want to progress in my development of as an attorney, and I cannot do that when my high profile cases go and hire private counsel.

A cute work related story

Ever since I was a teenager, I have a trait, an air, or something that causes children to talk to me and view me as one of them. For the most part, it is has been a curiosity that I have taken notice of and nothing more, until yesterday.

Yesterday, I was off the to the county jail to see clients. When I arrived and got out of my car, a small girl waived at me; she was no more than six years old. She asked me who I was, and I told her my name was “Johnny.” (Mind you, my real name ain’t “Johnny,” and I don’t use “Donzell,” except here and with a few friends, but I am not about to reveal my real name or a variant of it here.) The little girl asked me if I worked at the jail. I told her no, and I was there to see clients. She said that I looked like I worked there because I had a tie on. (Who knew that dressing nice in a suit would get me confused for a police officer or a jailer?) She wanted to know where I had come from, and I told her that I just came from town to the jail. She bounced out of her seat and said, “My aunt and my cousin live there!” So, I asked her where did she live? She said “Atlanta.” I asked her if she liked it there. She said no, because “it was noisy and smelly, really smelly.” I told her that I had to go and see my clients. She reached out and gave me a “high five.” As I was walking away to the jail, the little girl bounced out her seat and reached above the window and yelled to me, “Bye, Johnny Lawyer!” I smiled and went about my business at the jail. That little exchange brightened my entire day, and makes this job a littler easier to do.

10 Reasons It Doesn’t Pay to be a Public Defender

I saw this article on LifeReboot.com and decided to do a version pertaining to PD’s.

10. Most of your accomplishments are invisible and not attributed to you.

Most clients and their families do not understand that a lot what goes on in a criminal case is outside the courtroom. From the legal research, the investigation, the plea negotiations, the formulation of the defense, drafting motions, getting witnesses to court, these are things that clients do not see first hand. Also, even with all the hard work that you put into a case, you are not given credit for it. Usually, the client is bitter that it took so long for the world to see their innocence or they attribute it to divine intervention or to some other reason. It couldn’t have been you. You are a just a public pretender. You work for the state. Yeah, right.

9. Every conservation you have with a client is roughly the same.

I know that I offend the true believers with this idea. However, a lot of the conservations you have with clients tend to follow certain patterns or certain norms.

Examples:

Drug Cases - It’s not my dope. These (pants, coat, purse, wallet) is not mine, even though I was wearing it or had it on my person. It is just a residue on a pipe. It ain’t going to test positive for drugs. I did not know it was there.

Sex Cases - I didn’t do it. She said she was 16. She is lying. She is a slut. Her family hates me.

The trick in this line of work is to find the way to find out whether the client is telling the truth or just lying to you. In my world, trust but verify.

8. You are an all-knowing expert on every aspect of the law, both criminal and civil.

I have been asked about estate planning, corporate law, family law, and almost everything in between. Look, I am a criminal defense attorney. Don’t ask me about how to fight a child support order, how to do a divorce or some other civil crap. If I liked that kind of law, I would be doing it, and not defending your ass.

7. Your Talents are Forcibly Undervalued and Compensated.

Most taxpayers resent our presence in the first place (until they need us). So, they have no problem paying us a small penance and handle a large caseload. Hell, they are all guilty anyway; so why bother work on a case? Well, jackass, while I have reservations about my clients’ ability to be truthful, that does not relieve me of my professional duty to investigate the case and force the State to live up to their obligation to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.

6. You are never allowed a moment’s peace.

Look people, I need time away from the office to regain what semblance of sanity and of a life that I have left. Your phone calls and emails on a Sunday afternoon do nothing to endear me to you. Also, if you see me in grocery store, you really don’t want to talk to me about your case there because a slight problem, no confidentiality. Furthermore, the people standing around us may end up on your jury.

5. People ask you to perform miracles.

No matter how bad the facts are, no matter how bad the client’s record is, no matter that the law is simply flat against your client, all of them want the case dismissed due to a lack of evidence, a bond to get out to support his/her mother, father, child, et cetera, probation, water turned into wine, raise the dead, turn back time . . . . .

Let’s something straight, if you have a lengthy record, the State is going to want to send your happy little ass to prison. If the facts are against you, the State is not going to dismiss the case. If the law is against you on a particular issue, your half-baked motion is going to be denied. If you are charged with armed robbery, trafficking in coke, repeatedly violated a court order prohibiting contact with your ex-wife, you ain’t gettin’ a bond. Suck it up.

4. Your assumed “All Knowing” status sets you up to let people down.

When people think that you can make chicken salad out of chicken shit, it is hard to explain to them that they are going to jail, even for a petty offense. Listen up people, unless a statute makes a crime punishable only by a fine, confinement is always a possibility with any criminal offense, no matter the severity of the offense. A corollary of this is the following: the more serve the crime, the likelihood of you going to prison goes up as well, even thought this may be your first offense. Get over it.

3. You Possess Unlimited Responsibility (i.e., No matter what, it is always your fault)

To the client (or his family, friends, co-workers, etc.) it is always your fault when the following happens:

a.) he did not get a bond for having repeated sexual encounters with a 14 year old,

b.) he got his probation revoked and sent to prison, despite the fact that he has not done a damn thing while on probation,

c.) he did not get probation, despite his twenty page criminal history

d.) his case is not dismissed, when there is a confession from the client, eyewitnesses that saw him commit the offense, and he has the smoking gun on his person

The list can go on and on, but it boils down to this simple idea: if the client did not get what he wanted, it is your fault.

I am of the firm opinion that most of my clients (and their families) believe that if I chant a particular phrase or two, then everything will be alright and they will get what they want. If that was so, I would have “Abracadabra” your ass away a long time ago.

2. A life of alienation

Outside of the realm of other public defenders, most people don’t get why we defend people charged with crimes, why we do so, even when the pay is bad, why we walk through the wreckage of other people’s lives, or why we do this day after day. In fact, I don’t think that most people get us at all. While this does lead to a little isolation from the rest of the world, I don’t care. I like what I do.

1. You have no identity outside of being a public defender.

Being a public defender is not a typical line of work. It is not a “9 to 5″ kind of job. You strive to have an identity outside of your work, but it precedes you no matter where you go or what you do.

Coda

Public Defender work is not for everyone. There are days where it wears on me and brings me to my knees. This line of work is depressing, disheartening, and exposes you to the worst that humanity has to offer. And by reading this list, you may believe that I am complaining about my chosen line of work and hate it. Complaining, yes. Hate it, no. As I have explained here, this is where I belong and my chosen line of work. And it is my faith in the man upstairs that gets me through the rough times.

A few inconsiderate and rude comments to my clients

1. I don’t have the patience to listen to incessant whining about how life is not fair, how the DA is out to get you, that the State has no evidence against you, that the Judge cannot send you to prison because this is your first offense, or how you cannot do prison time for the charge against you. Life is not fair. The DA does not know or care who the hell you are much less spend a lot of time devising ways to ruin your life. If the State did not have some evidence against you or if the determination of your case was left solely up to you, then you would not be in my office, on my caseload, and getting ready for trial. Yes, the Judge will send you prison for your first offense, especially if your first offense is aggravated battery, armed robbery, or trafficking in cocaine. Every criminal offense carries the potential for prison time. Get that through your head. And the Judge does not give a rat’s ass whether you can or cannot do prison time. If you plea to that aggravated assault, sale of cocaine, et cetera, you better believe the Judge will send your ass to prison and may do it with a smile on his face.

2. I don’t have a magic wand to make your case go away. Think about this seriously. If I had said magic wand, wouldn’t I use it to make you go away and make my life sweet.

3. I cannot make chicken salad out of chicken shit. When you confess to a crime twice, and there are multiple witnesses that saw you commit the offense, then you don’t leave me a lot to work with.

4. Just because they give probation for sale of drug cases or trafficking cases in some other county, city, or judicial circuit, it does not mean that it will happen here. Different judges, different priorities, different circuits. The law provides the judge the ability to sentence you within the range provided by statute, not by what some judge does in Atlanta.

5. Don’t ask me to explain why the DA made his recommendation so high or why the judge ruled a particular way. I don’t read minds. Again, if I did, do you think I would be here?

6. The police are not there to act as marriage counselors, mental health providers, or provide other social services. The police are there to arrest “law breakers” and try to send them to prison.

7. No, the State will not provide you with a rehab program at no cost to you. Take that back. Yes, they will. It is called prison. If you want to get a rehab program for yourself to treat your addiction, you are going to have to find it yourself.

8. Prior Inconsistent Statements is a valid way for the State to prove to a jury that you beat the shit out of your girlfriend. Get over it.

9. On a related note, just because your girlfriend claims that she does not want to testify against you does not mean shit. There are ways the State can compel her to testify. Also, remember she was the one that called the cops on your ass when she was pissed with you. You don’t think she is going to testify against you, if you piss her off again. Please.

10. Despite all of the crap that you throw at me, the grief you cause me, the headaches that you send my way, and everything else that y’all do to make my job more difficult that it already is, I still enjoy being a public defender, and it is something that I am good at.

Empty Promises and Fear.

During my seven plus years of practice, I have handled a number of domestic violence cases. One of the reoccurring things that I have heard from judges is the following: “Counselor, if I let your client out, what promises or assurances do I have that your client won’t go out and do this again?”

I hate this question. There are no guarantees in life other than death. So, how can I a public defender, a man, a mere mortal promise to a judge that my client will not go and attack his girlfriend? I cannot. I do not have the ability or the authority to control my client’s every movement. I am not God. So, I argue that the Court take a leap of faith on the behalf of my client. Most of the time, the Judge won’t take that leap of faith with me, and tells me that if he lets my client out, then he will go out and kill his girlfriend; and that he (the Judge) won’t take that gamble.

Today, I was faced with the scenario that these Judges love to throw in my face.

Without going into great detail, here is the situation. The former client that I wrote about earlier that complained that I sold him out is now wanted for murder. It is alleged that he stalked his ex-girlfriend, and confronted her at her residence, after she had obtained another temporary protective order against him. The ex-girlfriend had her sister and the sister’s boyfriend there. The sister’s boyfriend attempted to protect the ex-girlfriend, but was allegedly stabbed and killed by my former client.

My former client is now on the run. I am afraid, but I press on.