Justifiable Murder

Roughly a month ago I had a murder trial that involved a client who claimed he acted in self defense. Self-defense seems like a great route to go when you kill someone, until you realize the hurdles that need to be leapt over to be able to justify taking another human beings life. The trial started on a Monday morning and what was different about this as opposed to a lot of other trials I handle, is that it was the only one on the docket and I knew there would be no l last second plea deal. In a lot of situations a trial is set with a bunch of other trials and either the trial doesn’t go because another case set for trial is older, or a plea deal is reached day of trial. I had negotiated a plea deal for this client that was a fairly good deal under the circumstances. My client turned the deal down and due to it being a murder trial the judge we were in front of had cleared the docket for the week for our trial. I’d rather no I am going to trial than have a situation where it could plead out, it could get adjourned, or for whatever reason your trial leap frogs other trials you thought were ahead of your trial.

Jury selection is what begins the entire process and I actually had been called for jury duty the previous summer so I was then able to peek behind the curtain. When you go to jury duty in Kent County they play a video for you and the video they play has the chief judge explaining the process. His staff was involved in filming the video and when he thought the video was done he proceeded to ask his staff “how was that?” I went up and told him about it and he then proceeded to pull some strings to I was never actually called up to possibly be selected as a juror. They filled the courtroom with potential jurors and already had the first 14 jurors go in the jury box to begin the process. For a life offense each attorney is allowed 12 peremptory challenges where you can excuse a potential juror and not need any basis to do so. In addition, there are challenges for cause if there is an actual reason the person would not be suited to sit on a jury. Of the first segment of jurors, one of them was wearing a slip knot T-shirt and struck me as the type of guy I’d want on the jury, unfortunately the prosecutor realized this and booted the guy. The judge started out by asking the 14 people seated if they had any issues that would preclude them from serving on the jury. One of the jurors indicated that they have to pee every forty five minutes, making it impractical for them to sit on the jury since they take breaks every hour and a half or so. A second juror indicated that he had severe anxiety and that he was having a panic attack at that very moment, to make matters worse he had already burned through his allotted days worth of medication and it was only 9:30. Needless to say both of those jurors were excused for cause. In addition, another juror had to reveal to the entire courtroom that they had IBS and were summarily excused for cause as well.

After that was taken care of and three more jurors were seated and indicated they had nothing holding them back from serving as a juror, the prosecutor began his questioning of the potential jurors. As he began to question jurors, sobbing could be heard from the back of the courtroom. One of the judges clerks eventually alerted him to the disturbance in the courtroom but he decided we could continue on and address it later. However, it got louder and the judge was forced to stop the questioning and deal with the disturbance. The sobbing juror indicated to the court that she had PTSD from an auto accident and her sobbing turned into a complete meltdown. The judge allowed her to be excused and as she left she attempted to stifle her tears and told the judge through sobs, I’ll be good in six months, you can call me back then.

Mid morning we had a jury of 14 and were ready to start the trial. The prosecutor gave his opening statement and I reserved mine. I don’t always reserve mine, but it seemed like the proper strategy under the circumstances. The killing took place at what is referred to as a trap house. A trap house is a place where people do crack and hang out. I prefer to just hang out, but if there’s crack available I totally get it. Technically Big Sed was on the lease and the one responsible for not paying the rent. This particular night there were a lot more people at the trap house than normal because they were throwing Big Sed a going away party, he was being evicted. Big Sed was one of the many witnesses that the prosector called for his case in chief. Big Sed was legally blind and couldn’t see shit. Big Sed was also present in the kitchen when the victim in the case was killed and claimed to see what happened. On cross examination I held up a picture for Big Sed from the podium where I was questioning him, he had no idea what it was, I went five feet closer, he still had no idea what it was, I had to get within a foot of him for him to be able to identify what was in the picture.

There were a number of other people who testified who were present at the trap house who testified but none of them actually saw exactly what happened (neither did Big Sed) other than one witness who claimed to have seen the entire altercation that led to the shooting. He testified that the victim was shot with a revolver and that it was chrome in color and had a cherry butt to it. The actual murder weapon was a semi automatic black handgun. The rest of the witnesses who were at the trap house testified to events and circumstances leading up to the shooting but did not witness the actual shooting. In looking through the police reports there was another person who was interviewed who claimed to have witnessed the shooting, I was wondering why she wasn’t testifying until I realized she was dead. In addition to her being dead, there was another witness who died along the way. Almost every witness who was involved with the trap house had a nickname, Butters, big Sed, little Sed, Dee Dee, and Snots were just a few of the nicknames of the witnesses from the incident.

After the prosecution rested I made my opening statement and called the only witness I had other than my client. Turns out, the Friday before trial a new witness surfaced who claimed to have been at the trap house when the shooting occurred and saw the decedent with a gun in his hand prior to being shot. Conveniently this witness was housed at the jail so I could speak with her but inconveniently she was a completely unreliable crack head. She testified to what she told me she was going to testify to and then my client took the stand. Many of you may know this, maybe all of you, but a person has the right to decline testifying if the person so chooses. However, it’s pretty hard to establish a claim of self defense without doing so. I wouldn’t say things were going splendidly when I got my client up to the part where he shot Cocoa, but they weren’t going terribly either. However, this particular judge allowed the jury to write down questions after every witness testified that they had for that particular witness. There were two questions they had for my client and one of the questions resulted in him elaborating on the shooting and indicating that he continued to shoot the victim even when he had dropped his gun. The amount of force used to defend oneself needs to be reasonable and justified. Once my client indicated Cocoa no longer had his gun and he continued to shoot, his actions were neither.

I have since left my partnership but when I was in it we had a partner who left and we all hated him. He had a jury come back with a guilty verdict in 11 minutes once. That was the threshold for all of us whenever we went to trial. I blew way past the 11 minute mark, the jurors took lunch and then deliberated until 3:30, coming back with a guilty verdict. Unfortunately, it was to first degree murder, meaning they believed it was premeditated and more importantly that my client is going to prison for the rest of his life. The good news for him, because he went to trial he has an automatic right to appeal.

Psych!

This past winter when we went to Chicago we played a game on our phones called Psych. There are different categories that you can play, but one is picture this, where you caption a photo that they show you. The object of the game is to come up with the most clever/funny caption so that everyone picks yours. Unfortunately, a number of the photos are of black people that open up the caption to highly offensive racist comments. On top of that, my kids go out of their way to be as shocking as they possibly can when we play this game. They don’t care about clever or funny, they care about being highly objectionable. (not sure where they get that from, I make sure my highly objectionable material is also funny and clever) In addition, if the photos don’t allow them to be racist they will throw in at least some homophobia. That being said, whenever my kids make the inappropriate caption, guess who gets the blame from Shirley? Not my kids, for some reason it is my fault our kids are racist homophobes, not the fact that we live in one of the whitest and Trumpiest school districts in the entire state. I am pretty sure that there is not a racist gene, nor is there a homophobic trait that can be genetically passed along. So I must say a lot of racist shit at home and make terrible comments about fags, right? I don’t, I have probably made three racist comments in front of my kids in the time I have known them, and they were really funny so it was ok.

This is obviously a teaching moment for Shirley, I’m not stepping up and condoning their behavior, but I am also not laughing at their captions, but mainly because they aren’t funny, not because they are inappropriate. The reality is that most stereotypes are rooted in truth and when factually accurate aren’t really racist. A number of years back I was at the MVP pool and there was a black kid getting ready to jump in at the deep end of the Crahen pool which is ten feet deep. I thought to myself “the lifeguards had better be on alert” sure enough, he sunk like a stone and one of the lifeguards had to drag him out of the pool. I based my knowledge of black people’s swimming ability to predict what was likely to happen. It is similar to coming up on an accident scene and seeing one driver who is a white male, and another driver who is an Asian women, no need for the investigating officer to even ask questions, give the Asian women the ticket for causing the accident. Not sure if I have mentioned this, but I listen to NBA radio on XM. I love the diversity, way more diverse than the NASCAR station (they actually have a NASCAR station). Somehow black people’s ability to swim was brought up due to a sideline interview of a player that referenced the beach. The black audience weighed in and agreed they typically don’t like the water and therefore aren’t great swimmers. (wonder if the Nascar station had a similar segment about Asian women’s driving ability?) It was conceded by the black audience that it wasn’t racist to assume a black person can’t swim. Similarly, it’s safe to say white men can’t dance. It’s not racist, it’s been proven through empirical data that white men can’t dance, obviously there are exceptions to every rule, some white guys can get really drunk and think they are good dancers even though they aren’t, but only Justin Timberlake and John Travolta break the rule.

Speaking of our trip to Chicago that allowed my kids to really express the bigotry burning inside of them, this weekend we are set for a return trip to the Windy City. Initially, Shirley indicated that she just wanted to go with the kids. I responded that that would be fine with me. However, I recalculated things in my head and decided that I should at least feign some disappointment in the fact that they wanted to exclude me. So, I circled back and acted like I was hurt by the fact that I was being left behind. Ultimately, it backfired and I was invited on the trip. Spending the weekend with Max and Murphy doing whatever I want, while not that much different from my typical weekend minus the guilt, would have been truly glorious. There is just something about having the house entirely to yourself and not having to worry about someone trying to make you feel guilty about your decisions. At least I will be there to regulate spending and say no, it’s a word the kids and Shirley never hear when it’s just the three of them.