Sunday, April 30, 2006

No, You Haven't Seen It All

I have written a couple of times about a recent murder trial here in Philadelphia. The victim was 10-year-old Faheem Thomas-Childs, who was killed when a gun fight broke out between drug gangs as he walked to school in February 2004. Two men were convicted for Faheem's murder, in a trial notable for featuring several witnesses who changed previous testimony or statements to police, out of fear or for other reasons. As I noted on April 25 (see entry titled "Pushing Back"), the DA has charged the father of one of the recanting witnesses for openly encouraging his daughter not to cooperate with prosecutors.

On Friday, with the defendants back in court to formally receive their mandatory life sentences, the trial process came to an stunning, depressing, and unspeakably cruel end. As the Philadelphia Inquirer reported, when given the chance to speak before imposition of sentence, one defendant turned toward Faheem's family and said: "You don't give a f--- about my life, and I don't give a f--- about his. F--- him." The other defendant shouted: "I'll haunt you motherf------ until my appeal comes."

The assessment of the judge in the case says it all, I think: "It's hard to understand the depths of evil coming out of these two men. The tragedy of this case is beyond recognition."

Thursday, April 27, 2006

The Scariest Seven Words in Baseball

No, they are not Barry Bonds saying "My personal trainer has a slot open." They're "Thank you for calling Dr. Andrews' office."

For reasons that defy rational explanation, Toronto Blue Jays' GM J.P. Ricciardi gave a five-year $55 million contract to A.J. Burnett. In return, this season Burnett has made as many trips to the DL as starts (2) and has one more trip to the Birmingham, Alabama office of Dr. James Andrews (pitchers want to see him like you want to see Dr. Kervorkian) than wins.

The more interesting question is why any GM would give a pitcher with these career stats $55 million.

It Was Him or Him or Him

Malcom Gladwell has some interesting comments on the Duke lacrosse rape case -- not who did or did not do what to whom, but whether the eyewitness accounts of the alleged victims and others are reliable. As Gladwell notes, there is research showing that a particular problem exists when, as in the Duke case, persons of one race are asked to identify persons of another race.

By the way, I recently read Gladwell's book Blink, which I enjoyed quite a bit. It is full of interesting stuff on why, as with the issue above, things are not always what they seem.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Just the other day, I was saying someone, "Someone, there just don't seem to be enough college football bowl games. I sure hope the NCAA finally gets around to adding a few more to the schedule." Voila.

Actually, college football lost much of its luster for me with the demise of the Poulan/Weed-Eater Bowl.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Are You Kidding Me?

Here, courtesy of Talk Left, is the beyond shocking story of a Texas man who is 16 years into a life sentence for -- get this -- smoking marijuana while on probation for participating in a minor hold-up. He was 17 at this time.

Unreal, even for Texas.

Pushing Back

I have previously written about the serious problem with witness intimidation and subsequent recanting that occurs frequently in criminal cases in Philadelphia. The police and DA seem to be fighting back. Here's an article in The Philadelphia Inquirer about the arrest of man who urged his daughter to recant prior testimony. As the article explains, what makes this situation so interesting is how open the father was about what he was doing -- he coached his daughter to testify that she did not remember anything in front of other people in the courtroom. Let's see if this arrest makes a difference.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Going, Going, Gone

I am heading out for a vacation beginning tomorrow morning, so there will be little or no blogging for a week or so. Happy Passover, Happy Easter, Happy Spring, Happy [insert your preferred holiday here] to all.

More Skilling

This just in: Forget about Fastow and all the others who have pleaded guilty to federal crimes. If only those pesky journalists had done a better job, it all would have been different for Enron. Hard to believe a Houston jury is going to buy that explanation.

The prosecutors get their crack at Skilling beginning Monday.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Skilling

Former Enron CEO Jeff Skilling has spent the past two days on the witness stand answering questions from his own attorney. Here's a blow-by-blow from the Houston Chronicle's trial blog, and here are some thoughts from the WSJ Law blog. I think the point about Skilling having great power of recall for some things but not for others is a good one. Obviously, if he doesn't remember something then he has to say so, but an average juror may wonder how someone cannot remember trying and (especially) failing to sell 200,000 shares of stock within days of September 11, 2001.

I think Skilling runs the risk of looking too smart and clever for his own good, someone who was so busy thinking great thoughts that he could not be expected to notice the chicanery that was occurring right before his eyes. Indeed, Skilling's tortured explanation for why Fastow running the LJM partnerships while also working as Enron's CEO was not a conflict of interest shows why he is on trial. How hard is it to see that there is a problem with your CFO running a private investment partnership out of your corporate offices and arranging deals between that partnership and your company? Do you need a Harvard MBA (which Skilling has) to understand that when the same person is negotiating both sides of a deal one side is not getting the best deal? Deliberate indifference, anyone??

As I have said previously, regardless of what other witnesses have said, if the jury believes Skilling and Lay (who will testify soon), they walk. And this jury has seen enough by now to know that the real test of Skilling's credibility will come when the government conducts its cross-examination next week. Let's see what happens then.

Dude, Train Cars Rock

I'm not a big "tort reform" guy, but here's an unfortunate example of people thinking that every injury received is somebody's else fault. While a jury still has to hear the case, it doesn't seem right that Amtrak should have to spend time and money defending itself against claims brought on behalf of teenagers who make Beavis and Butthead look like Rhodes scholars.

Monday, April 10, 2006

I, The Jury

Despite being on every public list out there (I have owned a house for years; always vote; I even have a library card), I had never been called for jury duty before last week. Well, the bell finally tolled for me, and I spent two days getting a chance to serve the criminal justice system. Indeed, if waiting around doing nothing for hours counts as service, then I performed with great distinction.

On Day 1, I arrived about 8 a.m., 15 minutes before the requested time. By about 8:30 or so, the people in charge started calling out names for various panels of 30 or 40 people, who were then directed to the courtrooms where trials were scheduled to occur. About two hours, two newspapers, and a crossword puzzle later, my name finally was called. At which point I and the others in my group were told to stay in our seats and continue waiting. Nothing further happened until noon, when we were all released for lunch and asked to be back at 1:30. The highlight of the morning, other than the free bagels, was watching the young woman seated directly in front of me turn around and tell me that she was tired of the waiting. Apparently, my response did nothing to ease her concerns, because she then very loudly announced that "this is a big f-----g waste of time. I am tired of this f-----g sitting around." This, of course, is the kind of insight that lawyers are looking for in potential jurors.

At about 1:45, my panel was finally assembled and told that we would be heading to a courtroom on the 7th floor. Whereupon our crackerjack Official Escorter took most of us to the 11th floor, and we all enjoyed wandering around like an overgrown scout troop while he looked for the courtroom that all the rest of us knew was on the 7th floor. God bless the civil service.

We finally made it to the 7th floor, at about 2:30 the judge appeared, and eventually she and the lawyers started questioning the members of the panel (what we lawyer types call "voir dire"). Although it took more than two hours to get to all 40 panel members, much of what everyone had to say was quite interesting. For example, all but 2-3 of the 40 people had been the victim of a crime. One person's father had been murdered, and another person's son had been murdered. One man had been shot twice -- in two separate incidents. And in fewer than five of these situations had anyone been arrested or had the panel members been asked to testify.

It was also interesting watching the desperate -- at times almost comical -- lengths to which people would go to avoid being picked for the jury, a fate that awaited 14 of the 40 panel members. My favorite was the guy who said that his religious beliefs prevented him from being able to serve. When the judge asked what religion was involved, he said, "I'm a Methodist." When the judge asked what about being a Methodist prevented him from serving, he said, "I'm not sure. I have only been a Methodist for about two years."

As person after person was interviewed, I began feeling increasingly certain that I would end up on the jury. People often believe that lawyers don't get picked to serve on juries, but that is not true. There were two other lawyers on the panel, and I knew that both would be struck before me since one was a current federal prosecutor and the other was a former public defender. When you are not even the first lawyer to go, you know you have a serious chance of being picked.

Sure enough, at about 5:15, the judge announced that I and 13 others had been chosen and dismissed the other 26. Each of those chosen received a number from 1 through 14 (I was Juror 6). It not being late enough, the judge then said that she wanted each of us to see where in the jury box we would be sitting for the trial, which was not as hard as it sounds since every chair had a big number on it. I felt pretty confident I could find seat number 6 the next morning, but practice makes perfect, so I had to go through the dress rehearsal with everyone else. We finally got out of there at 5:40.

On Day 2, we gathered in the jury room connected to the courtroom. And then did abso-bleeping nothing for a bit more than six hours, except go to lunch. I became concerned that this was all a psychology experiment and someone was observing us from another room, so, in an effort to appear well adjusted, I struck up conversations with some of my fellow jurors when I tired of reading my book. I even chatted with the guy who had been shot twice, but he was sitting next to a big window, and I figured it was not worth the risk, so I kept that conversation kind of short. Finally, at a little after 4 p.m., the judge entered the jury room, announced that the defendant had accepted a plea deal, and thanked us for our service.

Two days later, in the only example of efficiency I experienced during the entire process, my check for $18 arrived.

Is this a great country, or what?

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Yo, Donovan, Call Me Next Time

Donovan McNabb must have the same lawyer as Randy Johnson (see post of March 29).

As this story explains, McNabb and his Eagles teammate Jeremiah Trotter were contesting citations they received for parking in spaces reserved for persons with disabilities. A mother of a young woman with a disability has been on a campaign in South Jersey to have those who park in accessible spaces punished in accordance with state law.

Who is giving legal advice to these athletes? McNabb actually brought a lawyer with him to contest the citation, despite the picture that the mom had of his car in the parking space. Although McNabb was in the hospital recovering from surgery when the car was illegally parked, as the owner of the car he is legally responsible. In addition to what he paid his lawyer, he ended up paying a fine and court costs of under $300.

Hello? Why pay a lawyer and look like an insensitive lout over such a small amount? McNabb should simply have paid the fine and issued the following statement: "I understand that parking in a space reserved for persons with disabilities is wrong and causes problems for those who need to use such spaces. Although I was not driving my car when this incident occurred, I apologize for what happened. I have spoken to my family and those that work for me and made clear to them that my car should never be parked in spaces reserved for persons with disabilities. In addition, in order to help get this message out, I have donated $2,500 to [disability-related charity of McNabb's choice]."

Trotter should have done the same thing. Although it is easy for me to spend their money, once the lawyers are paid and their time is accounted for, this is probably not any more than they shelled out anyway. And they would have gotten major credit for turning a potential negative into a positive. I am particularly surprise that McNabb, who strikes me as a smart, decent, and image-conscious guy, took the route he did.

Do As I Say...

The mendacity of President Bush and Prince of Darkness Dick Cheney now seems beyond any possible dispute. How arrogant are these guys? This arrogant: "I don't know of anybody in my administration who leaked classified information," President Bush said two months after Libby says he was told to do precisely that. "If somebody did leak classified information, I'd like to know it, and we'll take the appropriate action," Bush said.

I can see the administration's argument now: Libby didn't leak "classified" information because when the President authorized the disclosure that de-classified the information. And they said that President Clinton was slick.

Here, courtesy of TalkLeft, is more information, including a copy of the Fitzgerald court filing.