The hearing

Today, which isn't over by a long shot, has already been a long day. However, there have been some interesting things which have happened. I went to a hearing calendar for Spalding Superior Court at 9:00 this morning. When no judge or district attorney personnel showed up, the Clerk ultimately showed up around 9:30 and informed us that court had been postponed until 11:00. I then showed up at 11:00. The doors to the courtroom on the third floor were locked and sheriff's deputies posted at the door to let only law enforcement personnel and attorneys who were willing to sit in the courtroom and not leave into the courtroom. Apparently, the defendant who was sitting in the courtroom had people in Miami, really bad, connected people, who were threatening him or someone else with bodily injury or worse. Nothing like a little excitement to race the heart a little.

Anyway, the Judge didn't show up from Fayette County in the morning, so court was postponed until 1:00. At 1:00, I went up to the third floor courtroom; the double doors were wide open at the time. I entered the courtroom past the bailiff and looked for a chair near the door. As I began to sit down, the Judge, who was sitting on the bench already, said in a fairly loud voice, "What are you doing here, Tom?"

Being surprised by his presence in the courtroom and a little nonplused by the question, I jumped up from the chair, approached the bench and asked, "Where do you want me to be, judge?"

He smiled at that and replied, "Nowhere else, necessarily. I just don't see you in this court that often."

"Well," I said, "I seem to get one felony criminal case a year."

"But I thought I had seen you earlier in the year already?"

"I don't remember that, judge. However, I have to feed the babies, you know."

"Well, that's true. I remember when I was practicing, I'd just about grab whatever came through the door."

Shaking my head, I answered, "That is true."

I left the area in front of the bench and sat back down and waited for court to start. Very soon thereafter, the new Assistant District Attorney entered the courtroom and noticed me in my seat. He asked me if I wanted to talk to the judge. I quickly agreed and we approached the bench.

As I approached the bench, I asked the judge, "Judge, may we discuss something with you."

"Sure, Tom," he said.

"Your honor," I began, "I have a case on your calendar, and..."

"What kind of a case?"

"A drug case, your honor."

"Its on your calendar, judge," the ADA offered.

"Yes, toward the back, judge," I added.

"OK, well, what do you want, gentlemen."

"Well, your honor, the assistant district attorney has offered a plea bargain which we are prone to accept; however, my client is only 17 years old and its his first offense and we would like to get first offender treatment..."

"What's he charged with?"

"Well, that's the problem. He is charged with possession of less than an ounce of marihauna and," my voice got a little weaker, "possession of meta-amphetamine."

The judge raised his eyebrows, "Tom, you had me until then."

"Your honor, I know that you don't ordinarily give first offender treatment on such a charge, and I wouldn't even make the request if he had a record, but he is only seventeen and..." My voice trailed off.

The judge looked down at his papers, "Tom, I wouldn't do this just for anyone, but I'll do it for you, just this time."

My heart skipped, "Thank you judge, thank you."

He looked at me critically, "Let's not sentence him today or tomorrow."

The ADA interjected, "Yes sir."

The judge turned to his court reporter, "Take the _____________ case off for today and tomorrow."

I stepped back from the bench and walked crab-wise away from the judge and leaned into the assistant district attorney. "Let's do the sentence on the 5th of October."

"That'll be fine."

I looked back into the crowd in the courtroom, caught the eyes of my client and his family and motioned for them to follow me out of the courtroom. As we met together in marbled gallery outside the courtroom, I smiled and said, "The judge agreed to the first offender treatment."

A quick smile came over my client's face and his mother sighed deeply, "Thank God."

"Let's get out of here."

The elevator opened and we escaped with our prize: a bit more freedom and the chance for the boy to show his repentance to the world. I bounced off the surface of the floor for the rest of the day. Even a short hearing in Magistrate's Court at three thirty couldn't keep my feet on the ground. A day later and I could still feel the electricity in my arms.