Try the Case, Not the Court's Patience

Get on with it!

I can always tell when it's coming.  Having reported for him this many years, I can almost feel it in my bones. He's not one fond of wasting time, and he's not afraid to tell 'em about it.  In the meantime, I've mastered the art of suppressing giggles.



THE COURT:  Mr. Lewis, do you want to sit here and argue all morning?

MR. LEWIS:  No, Judge, I do not.

THE COURT:    Well, then I've ruled.  You have an objection on the record.
          Let's get on with it.  We're just --

MR. LEWIS:   Yes, Your Honor.

THE COURT:    -- You're chopping, but no chips are flying, buddy.  You got any other motions?

MR. LEWIS:    I do, Judge.

THE COURT:  Let's go.  Move.

THE COURT:    Overruled.  Let's get moving.  May I ask -- Come here.

(Counsel approached the bench.)

AT THE BENCH AND OUT OF THE HEARING OF THE JURY:

THE COURT:    What is the significance of this building permit?  You have beat that thing -- that horse is deader than hell, about fix feet under.  Can we move on to the issues here?  I've been worrying about that damn building permit, and y'all done beat the hell out of that thing.

MR. SMITH:     Yes, Your Honor.  I'll move on, sir.

No Bullshit, Please

Yesterday was a full docket in our courtroom, a mixture of civil motions throughout the morning, and a loaded afternoon of criminal hearings.  After taking one look at the size of our docket yesterday morning, I'm thinking:  RIGHT.  All of this in one day?  No way.  We'll never get done.  Where's the coffee!

But as I've long since learned, my judge is a no-nonsense judge.  He has cultivated an extremely sensitive bullshitometer.  He doesn't let people ramble on and on ad nauseam, he gets right to the point, and he makes sure they do likewise.   As he's known to say, "Let's get to the rat killin', Counsel."  Brevity rules. 

And as a seasoned veteran judge, he's not worried about speaking his mind.  Does it bother him that an appellate court might some day see his colorful remarks in the record on a case up for review?  Nah.  He's "the Duke" of Justice around here.  He boasts a reputation for "telling it like it is."  I like that in a person.  Got something to say, say it.  Don't mince words.  And then we can all move on.  No more burning daylight.  No pretense.  No guessing.  What you see is what you get.  He's the real deal. 

I ADORE HIM!



I should have begun long ago preserving excerpts of the record into some sort of earmarked archive, his more comical manifestations and witticisms.  The apocalypse bombshell moments of courtroom history.  That is what keeps my job exciting.   His own personal touch of melodrama to an otherwise tedious, humdrum day in court.

We made it through the docket in record time -- rocket-docket style.  Not easy on a court reporter by any means, but I'm not going to complain.  He's delightful.  And sometimes you gotta take the good with the bad.  I'm blessed.



MS. PROSECUTION:  Your Honor, do you want me to amend the Petition to include the [___] or just give them leave to attend the proceedings?

THE COURT:  Do I want?  Why would I want anything?  I'm not in the business up here of wanting.

MS. PROSECUTION:  Well, perhaps that was --

THE COURT:  I am here in the business of occasionally permitting, granting, or denying.  But I don't want. 

What is it you want?

MS. PROSECUTION:  I would prefer not to have to amend the Petition.

THE COURT:  Well, don't.

MS. PROSECUTION:  Thank you, Your Honor.

~~~~~~~~~~

THE COURT:  Put it in the Order, Counsel, that I consider this to be a medical necessity.  They will be ordered to provide the transportation. 

MS. ATTORNEY:  The Court is ordering them to provide transportation for the Respondents? 
THE COURT:  Yes.  And if they don't like it, they can come in here and bitch.

Habits of Annoying Lawyers -- From a Reporter's Perspective

Oh.My.  WHAT a can of worms this topic presents.  I must assign an exclusive label for this blog post title.

I'm aware that over the years as a reporter, my patience has both improved and waned.  It's dictated by circumstances, some inexcusable, some not so inexcusable.

Example:  We are in the middle of a motions hearing in court, and I am listening intently to the motions being made by counsel when I hear loud voices outside the courtroom doors, making it more difficult for me to hear the attorney addressing the Court.  Seconds later, again, same voice.  Same show of disrespect.  Suddenly the courtroom doors crash open -- surely an attorney should know to quietly enter and take a seat as discreetly as possible while court is in session?  No.  And then I see who it is.  Ah, yes.  Mr. Jerk.  He's already been before the Court earlier this week.  I feel my ire rising already, just the sight of him.  Maybe even slightly nauseous.  Yes, he has that effect on me.

How impressed this guy is with himself.  He has arrived.  He wants the world to know and acknowledge his presence.  Please!

Does he take a seat quietly?  No.

From the moment he enters the courtroom, he sets into motion this display of annoying behaviors.

• Rustling of papers
• Loosening of tie
• Seemingly involuntary jerk of the head -- over, and over, and over
• Fake clearing of the throat -- over and over and over
• Loud whispering (no, it's NOT a whisper actually) to other lawyers seated near him, followed by laughter -- his laughter, not theirs
• More clearing of the throat
• Digging through his briefcase, pretending to look for something
• Continued, antsy gestures and nods
• Feigned facial expressions of boredom and impatience -- his time is so valuable, after all

The case at bar is concluded, and Mr. Jerk's case is called.  He walks demonstrably to counsel table, noisily and ostentatiously placing his briefcase on counsel table, opening and closing his jacket to proudly display his suspenders, because, ahem, Don't I look amazing today, People?  Spewing pretentious and unsolicited comments in an attitude of jest -- his attempt at being "folksy" with the Judge, all before he is personally addressed by the Court, superseded by his own annoying laughter.  Wow, have we been gifted with his almighty presence.

The Court opens the case, naming the parties to the case and the motion that is pending, calling upon defense counsel to argue his motion. Sure enough, as Mr. Defense begins stating the grounds for his motion, Mr. Jerk begins to clear his throat again...and again...pours himself a drink from the carafe on the table, drinks ALL of it, then pours another. (Are you nervous, Dude?  Mouth dry?) Gulps that down.  Places empty cup noisily on counsel table.  Straightens papers.  Straightens tie.  Scoots back in chair, then forward again.  Pours himself yet another drink of water, gulps it down.  Crosses his legs.  Uncrosses his legs.  Clears his throat again.  (How many times now?  I've lost count.)  

The Court politely interrupts Mr. Defense to ask him him a question regarding a comment he has just made.  Sure enough, Mr. Jerk feels led to answer that question, oblivious to the fact that the Court did NOT address the question to him, while at the same time Mr. Defense attempts to address the Court's concerns and answer the question---all of which is a challenge for me, trying to get two voices at once, aggravated that Mr. Jerk has spoken out of turn.

Mr. Defense finishes a couple more sentences, and again, the Court stops him to ask yet another question.  I saw it coming.  (How could I not?)   Just as     Mr. Jerk is rising from his chair to take the liberty of answering a question not posed to him, I cannot restrain myself and politely but assertively interrupt       Mr. Jerk -- seeing that my judge hadn't felt led to -- and admonish him to wait until he is addressed before speaking since I can only get one voice at a time for the record.

A brief pause by everyone, and then Mr. Defense resumes...

The look on Mr. Jerk's face is priceless.  That look of surprise.  Offended even?  Did she just try to embarrass me?  Put me in my place?  The court reporter?  Really?

YES, REALLY, DUDE.  Shut the hell up and sit still until your opponent finishes his argument.  And THEN, only if you must, and only if called upon by the Court, you may speak -- as animatedly as you care to.  And in the meantime, I'll do my best to take down your purged utterances while waiting quietly and eagerly for this hearing to conclude.  

Oh, and incidentally, I'm 99.9% certain that Mr. Defense's motion will be granted.  And I'm rarely wrong at second guessing my judge's rulings.  Justice is served.

We, the Jury...

I'm sitting in the courtroom right now, multitasking, waiting for the jury to return their verdict.
 

Piled on my desk in the courtroom:

A mug of coffee
My laptop
Data DVD's
A book (End of Normal)
My keys to the courtroom
A stack of notes, reminders to myself
My docket
Pens
My cell phone (on silent!)

The courtroom is vacant at the moment, the lawyers and parties having gotten bored with waiting, leaving instructions with the bailiff on where to reach them when the jury reaches a verdict.  The courtroom clerk has excused herself, overcome with munchies, and has gone off in search of a sugar fix.  The judge is in his chambers talking on the phone, signing orders and smoking cigarettes--despite the country-wide ordinance of no smoking in public buildings, but who is brave enough to challenge a circuit judge on what he can and cannot do in his own chambers?  No one has tried so far.

This is a bizarre case.  Short and sweet.  A woman was driving a wrecker one night after dark, on her way to see a friend for a social visit, and out of nowhere appears a woman in the road, who, the evidence suggests, was likely drunk, dressed in dark clothing, and although the defendant claims she tried her best to swerve and avoid hitting this woman, the side mirror of the wrecker ends up striking the woman and she's knocked off the road into a deep and obscure drainage ditch.  The driver in panic continues to drive and "leaves the scene of the accident," later calling 911 to report having witnessed a young boy getting struck by a car, lying about that, the location of the event, and other details in her conversation with Dispatch.  The driver insisted that she was deeply concerned in her report to 911 of what she had apparently just witnessed, but preferred not to get involved.  It is later learned that part of her bizarre actions following the event were due to the fact that she did not have a valid driver's license at the time of the accident and did not want to "get caught."

Authorities are dispatched to the scene, falsely directed by the panicked driver, finding nothing, obviously.  Two days later the victim's body is found in the deep ditch off the side of the road.  The victim, it is represented, was a known town drunk who wandered up and down the highway at all times of the day and night.

During the subsequent investigation, the police catch up with the perpetrator, and fast-forwarding the story, she admits to guilt and pleads guilty straight up in court and ends up serving time for the felony of leaving the scene of an accident causing death. 

The victim's sisters, two women who also share that same and questionable reputation of their lost loved one, are now suing in civil court for damages. 

Contributory negligence is being argued by the defense.

Compensatory and punitive damages are being sought by the plaintiffs.

Although I do not claim to exonerate the actions of the defendant for not having stopped after the accident nor failing to call for assistance, I can't help but wonder how much negligence should be attributed to the victim for having been stone drunk in the middle of the road after dark, dressed in dark clothing.

The jury is obviously struggling with that same issue, as the clock on the wall ticks away the passage of time. We patiently (or not so patiently) await their decision:

Meanwhile, I will continue archiving court records, answering emails, reading my book (I'm loving it!), and ... BLOGGING.

 “Where there's a will, there's a lawsuit."

~ Addison Mizner

A Frisky Frisk?

As a court reporter, along with the mundane issues we hear day in and day out, we often get entertained with more, well ... "amusing" court cases, litigants with questionable character, dress code, body language, allegations, or all of the above.  I could tell stories about these for days and days on end.

It's unfortunate that I did not taken the time to chronicle these stories in some sort of book.  I may have made some solid cash by now on the publishing rights.

An excerpt from court this week:

STUD GOES TO COURT

ALLEGING HARDWARE DAMAGES

(Pro se plaintiff is in court, alleging that a police officer in a search/frisk situation "bag-tagged" him, causing extensive pain and permanent damage, and is suing the local police department for emotional distress and damages.  The plaintiff admits that he had been to his family doctor, prior to the alleged officer misconduct,  for ongoing pain in his testicles, which was later determined to be caused from a benign cyst.)

THE COURT:  Okay.  Let's assume that this police officer did do this to you.  Do you think a grope or a bag tag is worth 15,000 bucks?

JOHN DOE:  I still hurt down there.  Yeah.

THE COURT:  Maybe you're hurting because of your cyst and not because of the bag tag.

JOHN DOE:  I don't think that, Your Honor, you know, because it wasn't hurting before.  Honestly.  You know, if I thought that, then I would just drop the case.

THE COURT:  When did this happen?

JOHN DOE:  This happened October 15 th , 2008.  And it still feels like someone is groping me down there, the same way he did that.  I guess he must have thought I had -- probably like weed or something.   I was going to become a New York police officer.

THE COURT:  You were?  What happened?

JOHN DOE:  Well, I guess I got stressed out.  Because, you know, it happened three days before my test.  I had to pull over because I was hurting.  When I came back, I went back to the doctor.  I was still hurting.

THE COURT:  Your doctor hasn't told you that you got any permanent problem, has he?

JOHN DOE:  He says that, you know, that -- I keep telling him that, you know, that I have problems, you know, getting an erection because of this.  And it's the truth.

THE COURT:  You do?

JOHN DOE:  Yes, you know, and it takes a toll on me.

THE COURT:  Do what?

JOHN DOE:  It takes a toll on me.

THE COURT:  What?

JOHN DOE:  The love life and stuff.  And I don't even know why this girl is with me.  I guess she loves me.

THE COURT:  I guess.

JOHN DOE:  Ask her.  Put her under oath.

THE COURT:  Well, she wouldn't lie about it, would she?

JOHN DOE:  I don't know.  Do girls lie?  Ask her.

THE COURT:  So you can't get an erection, huh?

JOHN DOE:  If it happens, it happens.  But I'm telling you, it's not like it used to be.

THE COURT:  Do you always have problems getting them?

JOHN DOE:  No.  Not at all, not before.  Oh, no.  I used to be a humping mule.

(Suppressed laughter in the courtroom.)



THE COURT:  Oh, yeah?  So just since this bag tagging, huh?

JOHN DOE:  Yeah.  I think when he actually groped me and thought I had something down there, that's when it hit.

THE COURT:  You didn't have an erection when he grabbed you, did you?

JOHN DOE:  Oh, no.  I don't like guys.  I mean, if he turned around, I might have give him a reach-around -- just kidding, just kidding.