Jailhouse Lawyer

Court today was short, although I expected to be in there until late afternoon – the crowd was huge! Things went along swimmingly, people were doing what they were supposed to do without complaint, and then it was time for the video arraignments. That part of court can be pretty touchy – after all, the folks in jail have an audience: some like being on television in front of a crowd and do a lot to encourage laughter, and others don’t like for anyone else to hear their business.

Today, only two people were in jail awaiting arraignment. One I had never seen before, and the other was a frequent flyer, Mr. Thomas; he, in fact, is now married to the woman who stole vodka in the middle of the morning and then called me “that bitch woman judge down there.”

The newbie, Mr. Barrett, had a city charge of driving with a revoked license. The clerks had made a note on his paperwork that he, because of legal problems I knew nothing about, had what we call a “10-year denial.” This means that he probably had some convictions involving drinking and driving, and those convictions had been in close enough proximity in time so that the state would deny him the privilege of having a driver’s license for 10 years. I asked him if that note was correct; he told me it was and that he had four years left before he would be eligible for a license. He also told me that he had state charges that would keep him in jail for a while, where he had been for over a month.

I then told Mr. Barrett that if he pled guilty to his charge, I would sentence him to two days in jail, and that I would give him credit for two days her had already served. I went on to explain that his license would be suspended for another year, but that year would expire before he was eligible to get his license back.

I noticed that Mr. Thomas was nodding, and then he leaned over to the newbie and said something that was supposed to be sotto voce; however, I could hear him, the jailhouse lawyer, saying, “It’s a good deal.” And because of his prior experience, he should know.

Mr. Barrett took Mr. Thomas’s legal advice and agreed to the guilty plea with a sentence of two days, credit time served.

Then I turned to Mr. Thomas, whose city charge was having an open container (alcohol) in the city limits. It is unlawful for anyone to have an open container (alcohol) in a car or in his or her possession in a park or walking down the street or the sidewalk. I told Mr. Thomas that I hadn’t seen him in a while, and I assumed that meant he was staying out of trouble. He then told me yes, and that he also had state charges. I told him I was prepared to make him the same offer: two days, credit time served, but I needed to check on something. I turned off my microphone and started looking for the piece of information I was missing.

The two men thought that I had turned off their microphone, as well, and that I couldn’t hear them. Mr. Barrett looked at the jailer and said, “Who is she?”

The jailer replied, “She’s the judge. Judge Mitchell.”

Mr. Barrett nodded and said, “She’s nice.”

Mr. Thomas chimed in, “She’s really fair. That deal she gave you was really fair. She’s always been fair to me.”

And we had a LONG history!

By then, I had found the information I had been searching for, and turned the microphone back on, not letting them know that I had overheard their conversation. “Mr. Thomas, did you want to plead guilty and take the two days?”

He did, and I thanked him. I then said, “Well, Mr. Barrett, you did well taking your counsel’s advice today. Thank you both, gentlemen. And Mr. Thomas, I know you haven’t been in trouble, but I haven’t seen you for a while also because I went to Afghanistan for six months.”

He told me, “I know. I read it in the paper.”

He reads the paper? Who knew?

In the end, the man without a law degree reminded me that making judgments about people without evidence can lead to erroneous conclusions – and that is why judges never make up their minds about a case until all the evidence is in. Thanks, Mr. Thomas.