Shifting Horizons
Typically when I see clients who are in custody it is in a small, controlled environment with several corrections officers on hand. Today, for the first time, I visited a client in the area of the jail in which the incarcerated spend most of their time.
I was shown to a concrete room swarming with inmates, probably 100 or so. Once I was shown to my client, the corrections officer disappeared. For a moment, I just took in the scene. It could have been my perspective, but everyone looked so ... criminal. Tough, tattooed, unwashed, wearing striped suits that were almost a parody of jail. Perhaps I should have been unnerved. I am afraid, though, that I was entertained. I felt like I was on the set of a black comedy about prison.
My client was delighted to see me. He (understandably) had little faith that asking to see his lawyer would actually result in seeing his lawyer. I whipped out my big yellow legal pad and listened. The forthcoming story did little to change my impression of being in a black comedy set in prison.
Accused of stealing liquor from a Safeway, my client was adamant he had not committed the crime. "I'm 48! I never been in jail for something I ain't done! And ma'am, I been in jail a lot."
I informed him that I needed his help to get him out. I explained repeatedly that it was up to the prosecutor to prove he was guilty. Beyond a reasonable doubt. Again understandably, he was suspicious of this. We carried on. With great verve, my client acted out the scene in Safeway. He had a credible story. Somewhat undermined by the fact that he seemed to be gauging my reaction and embroidering or recanting when I appeared dubious or confused.
An example:
Me: "So, was anyone with you during this whole thing"
Client: "No."
Me: "Because it would help our case if we had witnesses who could testify for you."
Pause.
Client: "Yeah! My girl was there that day! She went into the dollar store while I went to Safeway."
The deck is stacked against my guy. He's poor. He has a record. He has an incriminating police report that may or may not be accurate. He would get out of jail sooner by pleading guilty. But he says he's not. And so I'm going to try to show that. And anyone who can maintain something approaching hope here when the city wants to put him in jail for 150 days for merchandise worth $100 that he returned ... deserves that.
Finally, a corrections officer appeared to let me out. I waved dramatically at the many inmates and departed with fondness for my client.
I was shown to a concrete room swarming with inmates, probably 100 or so. Once I was shown to my client, the corrections officer disappeared. For a moment, I just took in the scene. It could have been my perspective, but everyone looked so ... criminal. Tough, tattooed, unwashed, wearing striped suits that were almost a parody of jail. Perhaps I should have been unnerved. I am afraid, though, that I was entertained. I felt like I was on the set of a black comedy about prison.
My client was delighted to see me. He (understandably) had little faith that asking to see his lawyer would actually result in seeing his lawyer. I whipped out my big yellow legal pad and listened. The forthcoming story did little to change my impression of being in a black comedy set in prison.
Accused of stealing liquor from a Safeway, my client was adamant he had not committed the crime. "I'm 48! I never been in jail for something I ain't done! And ma'am, I been in jail a lot."
I informed him that I needed his help to get him out. I explained repeatedly that it was up to the prosecutor to prove he was guilty. Beyond a reasonable doubt. Again understandably, he was suspicious of this. We carried on. With great verve, my client acted out the scene in Safeway. He had a credible story. Somewhat undermined by the fact that he seemed to be gauging my reaction and embroidering or recanting when I appeared dubious or confused.
An example:
Me: "So, was anyone with you during this whole thing"
Client: "No."
Me: "Because it would help our case if we had witnesses who could testify for you."
Pause.
Client: "Yeah! My girl was there that day! She went into the dollar store while I went to Safeway."
The deck is stacked against my guy. He's poor. He has a record. He has an incriminating police report that may or may not be accurate. He would get out of jail sooner by pleading guilty. But he says he's not. And so I'm going to try to show that. And anyone who can maintain something approaching hope here when the city wants to put him in jail for 150 days for merchandise worth $100 that he returned ... deserves that.
Finally, a corrections officer appeared to let me out. I waved dramatically at the many inmates and departed with fondness for my client.
posted by Salt and Vodka at 12:00 PM
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