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With my Sword of Justice in hand, I sallied forth as a modern Sir Galahad to face the dragon in justice court.1 I am still nursing wounds.
In July 1999, Doug and Jennifer re-licensed their automobile. The Department of Motor Vehicles issued a sticker expiring July 2000, but erred by manually stamping "1999" on the
registration. Jennifer and Doug attached the sticker to the license plate and placed the registration in the car's glove compartment.
In May 2000, Jenn was stopped by a highway patrolman who became suspicious because a corner of the license plate sticker was missing. Asked for the registration, Jenn handed the trooper
the registration from the glove compartment. Since the registration was marked "1999," the trooper concluded that he had found a fraudulent registration. Jenn, a seven-month
pregnant school teacher, was told to exit the automobile, to stand and to face away while the trooper searched the vehicle. After considerable time, the trooper issued a fraudulent
registration citation. Jenn then waited in the trooper's car until the tow truck came to haul away her automobile.2
Having done everything right, Doug and Jenn were determined to right the wrong. They initiated phone calls and meetings with DMV employees and State Tax Commission personnel. They missed
the equivalent of several work days chasing down information and documents. They appeared before the court to enter Jenn's "not guilty" plea.3 Finally, persuaded of the error, the DMV issued a corrected registration; and the State Tax Commission refunded the amount of the impounded-recovery payment. Doug met with the highway trooper's sergeant, who assured Doug he would have the citation dismissed. Doug forwarded all letters and documents to the city prosecutor, evidencing the error. The prosecutor, with magnanimous sensitivity to prosecutorial discretion, refused to dismiss the action. Rather, the prosecutor amended the information charging, instead, a violation of Section 41-1a-214 of the Utah Code.4
When Jenn told me this, I was embarrassed and incensed. For thirty years I have defended the judicial system at every party, backyard, little league game, meeting, church social, and
anywhere else someone has learned I am one of "them lawyers" ("I can't figure how all you lawyers can defend a guilty man. By the way, did ya hear about the lawyer. . .?
yuk, yuk!"). Some people, I have repeated a thousand times, don't understand and appreciate the beauty and dignity of the law. The law works well - the courts really try to do
justice - the law is an honorable profession - judges really try hard - some lawyers are close to being human. I have been sincere in my comments. Judges generally afford me respect as an
officer of the court, grant reasonable opportunity for hearing and recognize my clients' legitimate concerns.
Let me, I told Jenn and Doug, give the prosecutor a call because this was probably merely a misunderstanding and should be able to be resolved through communication and good will. My
golden-tongued arguments to the city prosecutor, instead, resulted in a generous offer for a "plea in abeyance for a period of 90 days during which time she need only pay $30 in
costs, and violate no law. If she performs these conditions, the matter would be dismissed at the end of 90 days." That was insulting and unjust! This couple's faith in "the
system" needed to be restored. For some newly-frocked city prosecutor whose principal goal seemed to require a conviction for something offended my sense of professional pride and
fairness and embarrassed my profession before Doug and Jenn. I wanted a judge to right the wrong, to bring some dose of reality into the prosecutor's office. With arms waiving and spittle
forming at my lips, I upped my dander. This deserved my most genuine, pro bono efforts. It was not a matter of the $30.00. Principle demanded that Jenn's innocence be validated! I wanted
to maintain pride in justice and in the legal profession! After all, traffic tickets and justice court are most people's exposure to the criminal justice system.
I entered my appearance as counsel, obtained a copy of the patrolman's video of the incident and subpoenaed a State Tax Commission representative to provide testimony of the State's error.
Even though my prior experience with justice courts was not sterling5, justice would, undoubtedly, be served. The time was long past, I said, when a judge was compensated by a
percentage of fines; and even inherent resentment against an attorney being in a justice court should be offset by the blazing light of truth we would shine into this courtroom.
The trial day arrived. I dusted off my armor. Vindication was imminent. Doug and Jenn should thereafter respect the judicial system. I walked into the justice court, surprised to find the
highway patrol trooper, his sergeant and another trooper present.6 The State Tax Commission representative arrived, as did an assistant attorney general to protect the State's interest.7 The previous prosecutor had been replaced by a new prosecutor.8
The judge took the bench. I introduced myself. The judge was not impressed (neither the judge nor the prosecutor ever called me by name). Briefly hearing what the issue was, the judge sent
us to try to work things out. The trooper was there. I told him I did not question his procedure, I questioned the city continuing to pursue this. The prosecutor wanted to go ahead with
the case "because all of the witnesses are here and so I want to let them be heard."
Throughout this whole process, no dispute existed as to the facts. Even the prosecutor accepted that an error had occurred. But it was also painfully obvious that this proceeding had
little to do with fairness or recognition of the bureaucratic morass Jenn and Doug had already slogged through. The prosecution was not, after all, a search for truth or justice (in the
moral, not procedural, sense). This case had developed an inertia all of its own, requiring, bygosh, the full exercise of The Law and its sacred procedures.
The trooper took the stand and testified about the circumstances of the citation. I then made a real stupid, rookie-lawyer mistake - I cross-examined the trooper. I wanted to get some
acknowledgment from him as to how inane this continued prosecution was - that he would not have issued a citation if he had, at that time, known the real facts. In trying to pry this out,
I presented to him language transcribed from the tape.9
The judge iced up. I felt I should have worn my winter coat. Believing that the trooper's testimony established the basis for a "not guilty" determination,10 I started to make a motion. The judge snapped back, in no uncertain terms, that I could make the motion but it would be denied.
So I called as a witness the State Tax Commission representative, who identified two letters she had written evidencing the process of consideration and the basis for the State's repayment
of the impound money. The judge (without prosecutor objection) stated that these letters were "hearsay." When I presented DMV computer printouts proving payment of the
registration, the judge (also without prosecutor objection) said they were inadmissible because they were not certified.11 Jenn testified, then it was time for final argument.
The prosecutor argued that Jenn was guilty of the charge because she had the responsibility of reading and checking the accuracy of the registration. Rising to present my well rehearsed
and articulate legal arguments,12 I was prepared to sway everyone present with the justice of our cause. Instead of being Sir Galahad, though, I had become Don Quixote. I completed about one sentence before being summarily cut off by the judge. The judge questioned both counsel and argued this matter while, at the same time, leaving the bench to check something with the clerk, appearing to handle some other matters, and clearly wanting to get the show on the road with the other cases.
I concluded that I must be a real bozo because, after thirty years of practice, I bungled a sure thing. I not only had failed competently to admit documents in evidence, I was unable to
state more than one sentence at a time to the judge without interruption and challenge. I was amazed that I had so quickly lost all legal skills and could not understand what had caused
such apparent offense to the judge. At last, though, I found the clue! The judge finally growled to me that my questioning of the trooper "implied that the trooper had done something
wrong."13 Feeling very much like a fly under a swatter, I ineffectually assured the judge that this was not my intent. The judge clearly did not buy it.
The judge took the matter under advisement, asking that we deliver the registration shown to the trooper. That had been turned in at the time of the correction of the registration, so the
judge wanted an "affidavit or something" which would support our position. I subsequently mailed the Court an affidavit from a DMV representative stating the process when
mistakes such as this occur, which implicitly acknowledged that this occurrence happens occasionally.
Approximately a month after the trial, my client14 received the glad tidings: "The Court finds that all parties, including Trooper ___________________, properly relied on the document prepared by the DMV of the State of Utah. Therefore, defendant did not fail to provide a certificate of registration. The Court finds the defendant not guilty."
What a relief for the reputation of the legal system. This erased any basis for Doug and Jenn to question the justice or effectiveness of the law or the protection of the courts. Thank
goodness for an independent judicial branch! Any continued carping would be merely sour apples. Jenn must be thrilled. Justice prevailed. Vindication occurred. The sun is shining, the
birds are flying, and all's right with the world.
I still often recall the trial. I did not get many billable hours that day. I spent most of that afternoon involved in the trial. Besides, I went home soon afterward to take a long shower.
Footnotes
1. "Prince Oryza's determined, handsome countenance was reflected in the gleaming, polished steel of his sword, Gowayoff, as he hewed valiantly at the armored sides of the dragon,
which could only be pierced by gleaming, polished steel and not the regular kind of steel, which doesn't gleam as much, and isn't polished quite as well, but does a pretty good job
against your smaller dragons." J. N. Pechota, Fantasy Winner, 1997 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest.
2. Ever try getting a car from impound with dignity? ("Listen, fella, we don't take no checks, no credit cards. Only cash. We also close at six o'clock, so be back by then or you
can wait Ôtil tomorrow and pay another day. Don't make no nevermind to me.")
3.
How do you rationally explain to laypersons why, when circumstances are so obvious, that the judge at the plea hearing will, with a "not guilty" plea, hear no explanation at all?
4.
". . . (1) a registration card shall be signed by the owner in ink in the space provided. (2) A registration card shall be carried at all times in the vehicle to which it was issued. (3) The person driving or in control of a vehicle shall display the registration card upon demand of a peace officer or an officer or employee of the division."
5. I had my first meaningful experience my first year of practice in Vernal. The JP, after socking my client with the maximum, put his arm around my shoulder and said, "Listen
son, yer client prob'ly wasn't guilty. But we got to teach you big shots from the Wasatch Front not to come here and blow over our elk." Parenthetically, I was successful later that year, in another venture into Perry Masonism, in convincing a Salt Lake City Court judge (Yes, Virginia, I am that old) to acquit on a charge of "loitering for the purpose of soliciting a sex act."
6. Louis Nizer should have been so lucky to intimidate law enforcement this effectively!
7. The DMV, the Tax Commission and the AG representative were, at all times, generous with their help and, indeed, with their sympathy.
8. In checking, I learn that the prior prosecutor is now an assistant AG. That really gives me the warm fuzzies!
9.
Jenn: So this expires on 2000, right? Trooper: No, it expired in `99. There's the computer printout. Jenn: How is that possible? I'm confused.. . .we went and did this. We went down to the Sandy office and took care of this last year. . . Why should it read `99, that's my question. . .I'll just have to take care of it later. There's just an error somewhere. Trooper: If it's an error, chances are the courts will just drop it. But, with everything I've got so far, it's just fraudulent.
10. The registration was in the car, it had been signed, and it was presented upon request.
11. The judge was correct under the rules on this point, but I wonder if the documents would have been given such short shift if presented by a layman, rather than by an offensive
attorney.
12. "Soft as a bubble sung Out of a linnet's lung." - Ralph Hodgson, Eve.
13. Of course, I was instantly relieved to learn that processes exist to protect sensibilities of law officers, particularly those who appear regularly before the judge, from
"implications" of wrongdoing.
14. Not me. Despite my formal entry of appearance, I have, to this date, receiving nothing directly from the court.
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