Sleepless Night

I didn’t have much sleep last night.  I wasn't going to due to court this morning, but I got even less than I had thought I would. Because I got a call around midnight, and again around 1:30am and again around 3:30am.  Reports of intruders trying to break into the Liahona Home.

Let's pause.

Meth damages your brain, and the effects last years afterwards. And I don’t mean the way PSA commercials and after school specials and your guidance counselor blathered on about.  Not the faked and trumped up “damage” of “just one toke” turning you into a jazz playing ne’er do well or violent sexual maniac.  Those well meaning people do more harm than good because by lying about the supposed damage of that stuff, they condition kids - who are later adults - not to believe the real dangers of the other drugs.

Meth does an awful lot of damage, and it’s damage that is a long time - if ever - in healing.  Yes, we all know of the tooth problem.  But there’s also the problem of the pleasure center being nearly completely destroyed, so that it can take a year or two after quitting meth before it heals enough so that the person can feel anything approaching pleasure again.

Pleasure from flowers, a child’s laugh, a loved one’s smile, a good book, an inspiring sermon - regular people who’ve never done meth can get a lot of pleasure from such things, the recovering meth addict, not so much.  In fact, it’s that lack of pleasure in that first year or two that usually drives them back to meth.

They’re physically not addicted, but they desperately wish to feel something again, and there’s only one thing that’s going to activate their much abused pleasure center - more meth.

Past that, meth makes one intensely paranoid.  It can make you out and out delusional.  In the TV show “Breaking Bad”, a show that improperly glorified meth and at times made it seem remarkably easy to come off of, they did have a scene that I had to ruefully chuckle over.

It was where Jesse, a twenty something smoking a lot of meth, was looking out the window nervously, fearful in advance of he knew not what, when he saw his worst nightmare coming down the road.  Two big, bad bikers, riding their hogs right up to his house, and decked out in leather, dirty jackets and assorted weaponry.  

They got off their hogs and started strolling up to Jesse’s door, one holding a big machete and the other tossing a hand grenade up in the air and catching it, up in the air and catching it.  You just knew they were going to mess up Jesse bad, if they even let him live.

Jesse didn’t waste any time.  He ducked out of sight, scooted across the living room, and was out the back door.  Jumping over fences and running down the street as fast as he could go.

Then the camera flashes back to what he saw, and you see two bicycles leaning against a tree and two Mormon missionary teens knocking on his door, one holding scriptures, the other some tracts!

"Would you like to hear about our Lord and Savior?"

Funny?  Yeah, it is.  I don’t want to be a wet blanket, the problem it’s making fun of is real, but it was humorously portrayed.  It’s not that you’re necessarily audio/visually hallucinating, but well...it kind of is.  You may as well be.

So at the Liahona Home we're down a guest, and of the other three still there, one was visiting family and one was working late shift.

Leaving one poor guest there all by himself.  Except that while he looks like he's really tough - and he is - and he looks like he could break you in half - and he could - he can't stand being alone at night.

He thinks he hears things.  And so he turns on all the lights and the TV.  Which I don't mind.  But then it gets worse and he calls me, sure that someone is trying to get in.

I go over and check all around the outside of the house with him, feeling odd, as I'm probably only 1/5th of his fighting ability, if that.  Then I go in with him and make sure all the windows and doors are secure.

Then I check the basement.  And then the bedrooms again.  Then chat a bit, discussing the odds of any return visitors, while knowing there were none.  But like most, he can know he has this affliction and still not know it.  A kind of, “Yeah, yeah, I know I can hear things, but this wasn’t that, this time it really was someone trying to break in.”

You cannot know, if you’ve not met him, how unlikely it would be for anyone to be dumb enough to risk breaking into this man’s home.  He’s an ex-con, and looks like an ex-con.  If any were to try to disturb his fretful sleep, it would be well for them to bring many friends.  Many.  

Having then assured him that I'd be sleeping in my clothes - I did - and so could get over there fast if anything goes wrong, I left him in the living room with the TV on and came back over here.  And repeated this three times.

And while we’re always to take full measure of personal responsibility, I know another factor in his issues.  Prison.  Prison given for drugs, prison given for too much for too little, prison gave out like candy so that we've more of us in prison than the People's Republic of China, the former USSR or the current North Korean Hermit Kingdom.

And the solitary confinement that is used indiscriminately as a tool.  Solitary that breaks men's spirits and minds.  It's not about being tough, it does that to varying degrees to all who have to suffer it.  If you doubt it, lock yourself in the bathroom on a weekend at 6am (without watch, book, phone, tv or radio) and see how long you can stay.

And if you want to tell me you stayed past noon, don’t bother, I won’t believe you.  Not without an unusual resolve.

Solitary - not the sodomy that our country remarkably finds so funny to laugh at in movies and on TV - is the real problem in prison.  Because it is the institutional “problem”, the problem that poses as a solution.

He’s been to prison.  And where the meth abuse then leaves off and the State torture picks up, who can say?  Either by itself would give a man paranoia for years afterward.  Both?  I guess it doesn’t matter.  But as a side note, as a society we need to recognize solitary for the 8th amendment violation it is and get rid of it.

Now, oddly​ ​-​ ​or​ ​not​ ​so​ ​odd,​ ​because​ ​these​ ​problems​ ​are​ ​just​ ​the​ ​result​ ​of​ ​previous​ ​meth​ ​abuse and prison​ ​-​ ​he’s​ ​a great​ ​guy​ ​otherwise.​ ​​ ​Kind.​ ​​ ​He​ ​volunteers​ ​on​ ​various​ ​projects​ ​to​ ​make​ ​the​ sober living home​ ​better.​ ​​ ​Gentle. He​ ​deliberately​ ​did​ ​not​ ​fight​ ​a​ ​guest​ ​we​ ​had​ ​who​ ​one​ ​night​ ​tried​ ​to​ ​pick​ ​fights​ ​with​ ​every​ ​other guest.​ ​​ ​That​ ​guest​ ​succeeded​ ​in​ ​getting​ ​the​ ​others​ ​to​ ​fight​ ​him,​ ​but​ ​not​ ​this​ ​man.

This paranoid guest works all day, then goes to an AA meeting, then some TV and dinner, and then to bed.  Which when the other guests are there - or even just one is there - is fine.  But when it's just him...then I'll get a call.  Usually about someone breaking in.  Or about suggestions for projects he could help me with.

It's just him not wanting to be alone.  And it saddens me that this is what meth really does to a man, more so than the loss of teeth good for a laugh on a TV show.  It saddens me that this is what our State’s “rehabilitative” and “correctional” centers do to a man, more so than the “who dropped the soap” nonsense good for a laugh on a TV show.

And it saddens me that there's not more I can do for him. I wish I could convey to those who’ve not experienced any of this just how hard it can be for some to recover, even when they are 100% committed to recovery.  Sometimes...sometimes it is possible to do too much to yourself.  

No, I don’t believe that it is ever impossible to come back from the precipice.  I believe that redemption is possible for everyone, so long as they shall draw breath.  I firmly believe in the truth of Romans 10:13 that says, “For whomsoever shall call upon the name of the Lord they God, shall be saved.”

It’s true.  But...sometimes, an addict or alcoholic can put himself so far down that it’s awfully hard to climb up when the first mile of the climb is only going to get you a bit nearer to where one day you might be able to see a glimmer of light far above you.  And where it’ll be years more of climbing just to achieve the level that we’d expect of an uneducated hillbilly in a trailer.

They say that an addict has to be “sick and tired of being sick and tired” before finally giving up and getting help for real.  True.  But it’s a crying shame how much endurance some of us alcoholics and addicts can have before we’re sick and tired of that.  Before we stop digging a burial hole for ourselves so deep that we’re speaking Mandarin towards the end.

Some guests I look at and think, “He can get back on track.  Young, time to recoup losses, good basic upbringing, reasonable education.”  Others?  I fear greatly, for I know that it will take an enormity of effort and the “success” at the end will be the least society has to offer in terms of housing and status.  

Which is especially sad, as the effort expended to get even that will exceed in some cases the effort of a normal person to achieve a house with a three car garage and jacuzzi in back.

If only teachers and parents would describe this to their kids.  If only the real dangers of drugs and alcohol were teached and preached.  If only it could be conveyed to kids what a bleak and hellish time killer, dream killer and life killer these “pleasures” are.  

Ahh, well.  I must go to court again now.  The City of Springfield, ever the business and opportunity and hope killer needs to play with me again on a matter long resolved.  I’ll try not to be as feisty with them as my lack of sleep is encouraging me to be!  (You see, that check I mailed them - and can prove I mailed - they lost.  Idiots.  But guess who will pay for their mistake?  Uh huh.)

Doom?

Today is the day. At 10:30am this morning, I must appear before a judge in small claims court to answer the City of Springfield and their Citation to Discover Assets.

As I've already satisfied the judgment for which that citation was issued, most would feel that this is no big deal. I've paid what the City said I owe, so they no longer will care to go forward with this.

Yet I'm sick to my stomach retching, as only those versed in the philosophy of law and politics can be. It is at times such as these that I wish I knew nothing, and was blissfully trusting in the system, knowing that nothing bad can happen to a good man doing the right things.

I'm going to put the system on trial. 

Katie was asking me about this last night, noting that while our day had been nothing but a good day that my head was pounding and I was continually sick at my stomach, with no appetite.

"Don't your motions settle it?", she wondered.

"They should", I answered, "but they do not have to. Depends on the judge.”

“How come?”, she asked.

“Remember how I explained that we’re not a nation of laws, but of men? By the law, it should be over, but given that the law can be read a variety of ways, it will be due to how the judge feels.”, I explained. “I filed three motions in my answer, with only the second one being really important. If he just goes with that one, all is well. If not...then it gets sticky.”

“He can go with whatever one he wants?”, she asked.

“Technically no...well, technically yes, he can go with whatever one he wants. The laws are written in such a way that you can always find a precedent or argument for whatever you want to do anyway. So the Judge can choose any way he likes.”, I said. “The right way - as far as I’m concerned, has me home quick. The wrong way...not so quick.”

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I get sick over any kind of hearing, however innocuous. Like a surgery, it may be “routine”, but there’s a chance of disaster each time all the same.

I’m not the only one aware of this. You’ll notice that even the uneducated dread going to any kind of hearing. They may know they’re right, they probably even believe in the system, but they fear it all the same. Unconsciously they know what I know consciously - that the Judge can go whatever way he wants with it, and if the other side’s trained lawyers out talk you, he probably will.

And it won’t be based on “right” or “wrong” or “good” and “evil” but only just who talked better and what mood the judge was in. Because whichever way the judge decides, there’s alway - ALWAYS - a precedent or argument to cite so as to defend the illusion that we’re a nation of laws and not of men.

You know what the Old English word for “Judgement” is? “Doom”. As in if you live in an area under the King’s Judgment, you’re in a King-dom. If you live where you can freely judge, you have “free-dom”. Dom/doom meaning “judging/judgment”.

It speaks volumes about our vaunted Anglo-Saxon jurisprudence that the word “judgment” could come so quickly - and for so many centuries - to mean “disaster”, as most take “doom” to mean.

What’s this matter I’m going on and on about all about?

I had a roof last year that the City wanted fixed. It was not leaking, but they believed it looked old. So I replaced it. But not as “fast” as they had wanted. So they held a hearing that they failed to invite me to, and having tried me in absentia, awarded themselves $365.

There are appeals to such things, of course - that’s what makes America great! - but they failed to notify me of the judgment or the amount owed until after the deadline for any and all appeals had passed.

I explained this to them in a letter I wrote them last year, in November, and asked - not demanded, but asked - that they waive the fee.

Now they could have wrote back and said, “No”, in which case they’d have been paid. Or they could have called me - saving the cost of that postage stamp - and said “No”, and they’d have been paid. Or they could have emailed me, equally for free, and said “No” and again - been paid.

Instead, they wait till February of this year, and only after my repeated inquiries as to when they’d answer my letter, had a summons served upon me. And a process server costs more than an email or phone call or postage stamp, notice.

And they had served upon me a Citation of Discovery of Assets which you do only when the person has refused to pay and you don’t know what assets he has to seize.

They are full well aware that I had not refused to pay, and full well aware of what the assets are, but they are - as I said in my response to the court - attempting to deliberately incur more “costs” so as to charge them to me. Thus generating more revenue.

For you see, the Citation, as such things always do, refers to the original fine of $365, “plus costs”.

Clever, huh? They knew I’d pay the $365 for the price of them making a $0 call or email, but this way, for really no cost to them, they can claim “process serving”, “hearing preparation”, “legal research”, time, effort, blah-de-blah. Neverminding that to the extent they burned any calories, I PAY FOR THEM TO DO ALL THAT ANYWAY each year with my property taxes!

Sorry.

So here I am. Showered, shaved, suited up, waiting to go there at 10:30am where I’ll no doubt be waiting 30 to 40 minutes as dozens of others are dealt with, then to meet with my own doom. Er, “judgment”. Of which I know there is a 99% chance it will go fine. Well, 90% chance. But that could still go wrong.

I should be let go with no further “costs” assessed. But they could assess almost anything. I should be let go without a real asset discovery taking place. But they could spend all day with me going over every jot and tittle of 8 years of annual reports, budgets, tax records, invoices and receipts.

I could be home by noon, when a good friend is coming to do more electrical work for free to make the lives of those we aid better. Or be there all day, as our “civil servants” justify their absurd salaries by making the life of the guy who runs a charitable non-profit a living hell.

Our system - though at this point, I think it fairer to say “their system” - is not as we taught in civics class.

Okay, I’m done now. I’ll be retching a bit more, a dry retch as I’ve ate nothing since early yesterday, then going to court.

Pray.

Arrived!

It was over 10 years ago (10 years and 5 months) that I arrived in Springfield in a beat up RV that was out of gas.  I was homeless, unemployed and back then, a fully active alcoholic.  My life was unmanageable, as they say in AA meetings.

I wanted it to be different, I made a conscious decision for it to be different, and it has been different for a long time.  Thanks to my Katie and the Missionaries and Church folk who have aided me in gaining and keeping my sobriety.

But when do you get to unfurl the “Mission Accomplished!” sign?  When can you say you’ve “arrived”?

There are many such mile markers on the way to being able to say you’ve “arrived”, of course.  And in some sense, it’s a purely arbitrary decision, and a personal one that you get to decide for yourself.

Was it when we incorporated as a bona-fide non-profit?  Was it with the first house bought and renovated?  The second?  The first guest aided?  The 40th?  Will it be even later, in the future, when we get our 501(c)3 status approved?  (A future much closer now as we are moving toward securing that!)

Any of those points could have been selected.  And I’ve felt the joy of those previous “arrivals”!  And I know I’ll feel the joy of the 501(c)3 “arrival” when that comes!  But all along I’ve had something else in mind as the ultimate mile marker.

Membership in the Chamber of Commerce.

As a child, I was raised in an upper-middle class environment, my father was an insurance executive with State Farm, my mom did Hospice volunteer work, there were bake sales, business trips, a bi-level house, blah de blah!  The church we attended weekly without fail was one of the prosperous Methodist ones where everyone there is some kind of businessman, entrepreneur or professional!

So you can see why I’d be the kind of kid who knew what the Chamber of Commerce was and is!

I hadn’t thought of it in the years since I left at 17 to join the Air Force.  Why would I?  It’s not like I had a business.

But there I was ten years ago, back in my town of birth with nothing and no one.  I knew I wanted a non-profit one day, though I still had myself to heal.  I knew I wanted it to be a going concern, I knew I wanted to succeed in ending my own relapses, and I knew I want to help others who had walked the same sorry path.  I knew what it was like for me to try to climb back up and I wanted to be in a position to aid others in that.

And for my own goals of success, for my own idea of what I wanted for my own life, I knew even then what the total opposite of being a homeless unemployed alkie was.

And that was to be a dues paying member in good standing of the Chamber of Commerce.

And now?  Now, this 20th day of February, roughly ten years later, I’m pleased to announce that we at the Liahona Mission belong to the Greater Springfield Chamber of Commerce!  Or simply “the Chamber” as they call it!

Why is that a thing?  Why did I want that so bad?  How is that the opposite of being homeless?  Isn’t just having a home and a job and being sober the opposite of all that?

Well, yes, in general a home, and job and sobriety are the opposite, and perfectly fine for most people.  But for me personally, I think that a bit more than that is “opposite”.  Having a home and a job and being sober are great things, of course.  Crucial things, in fact!  But that’s not the furthest you can go as a member of your community, and only the furthest point away is truly “opposite” enough for me!

And for that you need to belong to the Chamber of Commerce.  The Chamber, for those who are unfamiliar with it, is a group of business owners great and small who are bound together by two common elements.  The first is shared by everyone, even the homeless.  The second is shared by very few, even the well off.

The two elements are these:

“The desire to have their community grow and prosper.  AND the desire to make that their personal responsibility.”

And that is what membership in the Chamber is in two sentences.  If one is running a corporation or company, a coffee stand or a mega-conglomerate, and you agree with those two sentences, then membership is a must.

Ever drive past any of the numerous vacant lots and abandoned homes and think, “Gee, something should be done about that?”  The Chamber is made up of men and women who agree, and who work together to grow Springfield’s economy so that such can be solved.  

Ever hear of burdensome regulations and policies hampering and hindering the growth of local businesses - and thus jobs?  The Chamber is made up of citizens who are well aware of that problem and who work to help others find their way through those treacherous waters.

Ever read about how different communities offer different tax breaks and incentives and such to attract more businesses to their town and thus create even more employment opportunities?  Yes, that is again what the Chamber looks into and advises upon, for whatever town it is in.

Do you wonder about who advocates for beautification and better roads and well lit streets and easier traffic patterns and environments more conducive to business and jobs and prosperity in general?  The Chamber, the Chamber, the Chamber, and also, the Chamber!  

Political leaders may be elected and be paid, and they may at times work to solve such problems, but members of the Chamber are those who took it upon themselves to pay to get together and work together to solve those same problems!

As they know that a better town is not only great for everyone here, but for attracting more people here, and leaving - as each generation of members in the Chamber does - a better place for those who come after them.

Because at root, that is the only thing any Chamber of Commerce does - inherit a community and work to make it better for the next generation.  The Chamber is the caretaker of the community, and they invest their own time, talents and money to that end.

And now we get to be a part of that!  

And that is what I count as having “arrived”!  When not only do we have our own business up and running, not only are we helping others, but that we can now be a part of a greater effort, and join in the ranks of all the other responsible local businesses!

If that’s not being “arrived”, I can’t think what is!

Windfall!

We have received an unexpected windfall from a friend of a friend who wished to donate. I won't give his name, but he looked like Santa Claus! :)

By windfall, I do mean that this was truly unexpected. The first I knew the man was when he called about 20 minutes before arriving with a check. But he knew a friend of mine, a friend I had met through a church friend of mine, so that is how he had heard of us. He said he liked not only our mission, but that we don't have salaries or admin costs the way that other non-profits often have. Costs that tend to eat up the charitable donation and mean that less actually gets to the people who need help.

Given that it was unexpected, and that other things we desire are already on track to be acquired in the normal course of time, we are setting that sum aside, to go towards applying for our 501(c)3 exemption. A thing that the donor brought up as being desirable to have.

True, we almost immediately could think of plenty of other things to use it for, but really, we've waited long enough on this. It's time.

We will still need an additional $300 for the application fee, and at a given point, we'll still have to pay for a CPA to go over the application with us - the application being a couple of dozen pages long, with about 30 pages of instructions!

But this is sure a big push ahead!

So tomorrow I'll be at Brookens Library, starting the laborious process of the paperwork, so there'll be something for the CPA to review!

This is rather exciting, as not only will it allow donations to us to be declarable on a donor's taxes as a deduction, but it will aid us in accessing food programs to aid the guests of the sober living home!

Legal Advice

Besides the usual aid in letting those who need it have a place to stay, there’s all the little “extra” and miscellaneous duties that come with being a program supervisor at a sober living home.

Among these being “legal advice”.  Not just for guests, but for those who well familiar with my previously checkered past, and long experience in dealing with aiding others who run afoul of the law, know to call me.

My first advice, ever and always, is “Always​ ​shut​ ​up.​ ​​ ​Always get​ ​a​ ​lawyer.​ ​​ ​Always​ ​then​ ​do​ ​what​ ​the​ ​lawyer​ ​says.”

And when it comes to purely “legal advice”, that is not only the first piece of advice I give, but the last.  

The rest of it is not really "legal advice", but mainly explaining the process that they can expect, and what is likely to happen, and what they should shoot for.  As opposed to what they think will happen or what they think they should do.

Random Example:

Katie called out to me tonight, I was in the other room playing on facebook.  “My net friend Jane’s son was arrested!”  (Not her real name)

Me:  Was it the meth?  (I was familiar with her wayward son’s trials and tribulations.  A 30 year old ne’er do well with some prior prison time already under his belt.)

Katie:  First it was failure to appear, then meth later. There’s a dozen or so more charges now, she doesn’t know why.

Me:  Prosecutorial overkill.  Throw on everything, see what sticks, “give in” on half of them, and still plea out the other half.  

Katie:  They had a chance to arrest him at a traffic stop, but let him go, then a few hours later they surrounded the house he was at and arrested him there.  She doesn’t know why.

Me:  Because if they had arrested him for "failure to appear" at the traffic stop, they’d have needed a search warrant to look in the house.  But busting him there means they get to do a “search incidental to the arrest” and they don’t need to bother a judge for a warrant for that.

Katie:  How does she get him out?

Me:  She shows up at arraignment tomorrow.  They’ll assign a bail amount, and she can post 10% of that.  She should know that nowadays they rarely give the whole amount back.  They’ll seize part of it for fees, penalties, court costs, jail costs and such.

Katie types some more, as she is typing each of these things I’m saying and messaging them to her net buddy.

Katie:  She says that he was arrested on Saturday.

Me:  Well, she already missed the arraignment then, they always do it within a day, two days if it’s the weekend.  He’d have likely been arraigned on Monday, and so now all she needs to do is call the jail and ask what the bail is.  They have to tell her, and then she can come up with the 10%.

Five minutes pass.

Katie:  $10,000.  No, wait, $100,000.  

Me:  Then they really want to keep him there, or they’d have set it at $5,000 to $10,000.  She’ll have to mortgage the house, or get a loan off of a car or other assets, or if her credit’s good enough, a signature loan.

Katie:  She can’t do any of those things.

Me:  Then it’s time to hire a lawyer, if he’s left with the Public Defender he has no hope at all.

The best public defender ever.  And he lost.  Yeah, really.

Katie:  How does she find a good one?

Me:  That’s a tough one.  Poor ones can work harder, and rich ones can ignore you, or the rich have connections and the poor ones are dumb.  You never really know unless you know someone who had a good lawyer get him a good deal before.  

As a general rule, you don’t want a very large firm with a full color glossy ad where her kid will be one out of five hundred cases.  But you don’t want some newbie just out of law school who the DA will run rings around.  Best to find some three person firm of forty somethings specializing in criminal law, and the amount they charge should be affordable, but hurt a bit all the same.

Katie:  What do you mean hurt?  

Me:  Well, unless she’s a lot richer than us, she wants to pay enough that it will hurt her budget quite a bit.  Bargain basement prices get you - generally - a bargain basement defense.  She should be thinking around $1,500 to $3,000, and $3,000 would be better.

Katie:  To get him off?

At that point I leave off my facebook playing and go in to speak to her immediately.

Me:  No, no, no!  Meth, failure to appear, burglary, some of these are felony charges, not to mention the miscellaneous mopery and dopery.  Taking those to trial would cost around $10,000 to $15,000 and she does NOT want to do that!  Never minding the massive expense, she needs to understand very clearly that her son would lose anyway.

Katie:  Why?

Me:  Because from what you’ve told me, he is, in fact, guilty, and our system, with all it’s flaws, is more than capable of establishing the guilt of a meth addict.  They convict a dozen innocent folks a day, imagine how much easier that is when they’re really guilty!  

He needs to place his fate in the hands of his mom who loves him and a private attorney qualified to represent him.  If he tries to Matlock this at a jury trial, he’ll never see the light of day again.

Katie:  Why a lawyer at all then?

Me:  His lawyer will have one job and one job only.  To get him the best plea deal possible.  If his name were Leroy Minority, he’d get the lousiest plea deal and do the most time.  If his name was Trent Cavendish Merryweather IV, he’d get the best plea deal and likely do no time at all.  

As it is, he’s in the vast middle area, and there’s a lot of room for maneuvering there.  His lawyer will then use all his skills to get him the best deal possible, where he’ll do less time than he deserves, but more than he wants.  Which is a given, because no one wants to do any time.  But if he gets under five, he should feel that it’s a success.  If he gets a year, then wow, he found one heckuva lawyer.  

In any case, he’ll only do 50% to 80% of the time, depending on the state and their rules of how much time off you can have for good behavior.

Katie:  His mom thinks he’ll want a trial.

Me:  Trials are for the stubbornly and stupidly innocent.  And lawyers hate representing the innocent, because they should avoid trials too, but rarely will.  They insist on their day in court, sure that if they only tell their side, they’ll be set free by an intelligent jury and fair minded judge.  Two things that you may bank on being absent in the system.  

The reality then is that they’ll go down any way and get more time than they would have.

With guilty clients it’s easier, as their lawyer can just tell them, “Hey, you did it, so knock it off.  I’m just here to get you the least time for the dumb stuff you know you did.”  And when they’re guilty, they’ll usually understand that eventually and go along with it.

Katie:  What if he insists?

Me:  It’s a movie myth that lawyers have to lie for their clients.  The lawyer is allowed to say, “I’m not going to lie for you or let you perjure yourself.  You take the best plea I can get you, or get another attorney.  And since I don’t give refunds, that will be the Public Defender.”

The threat of the Public Defender will scare him straight!

The point his mom and attorney must convey to him is that while he’s going to want to blame his friends, or the girl with him, or the police, or this, that or the other, that it won’t matter.  He is actually guilty, everyone knows it, and trying to get off scot free is only going to hurt him.  

You find the best lawyer you can, let him make the best deal he can, and do the time as best you can.  It’s not glamorous, it’s not like the movies, but it’s the safest and sanest way to go.

Katie:  His mom says he didn’t do the burglary, the guys who live there don’t want to admit it’s their meth.  

Me:  And they’re unlikely to change their story, so that’s that.  The penalty for hanging out with addicts is that they are sometimes - heh, heh - less than honest! This should be a lesson to him. Sadly, it probably won't be.

Katie:  What should he do while his mom gets him a lawyer?  His mom says he has a big mouth.

Me:  He needs to get some duct tape.  There is nothing he can say to aid his case, except to be a model inmate at the local jail and say “Yes, sir” in his daily life there.  He can put his mom’s name on the visiting list, attend the jail house AA meetings, and any little Christian prayer group that will inevitably exist there.  He doesn’t fight, he doesn’t shave his head or tatt up, and he doesn’t join any gang “for protection”.  It’s jail, not prison.

Past that, he tells his attorney everything, listens to everything his attorney says, does that exactly, and accepts whatever plea his attorney gets him.  A truly penitent allocution won’t get him a lesser sentence than the plea deal, but it may help in which facility the judge recommends to the DOC that he serve in.

Katie:  Nothing else?  

Me:  Nothing.  And especially he should say nothing to any cell mate or anyone else.  Not a one in there wouldn’t snitch to shave a month off their likely sentence or get a charge reduced or dismissed.

Now.

That basically concluded the conversation.  I would only add that the movies and TV shows are truly harmful.  Generally speaking, you are not going to “beat the rap” by getting the cop or the county on some fine point of Constitutional law.  Or a “technicality” whatever you imagine that to be.  Or an insanity defense.  Or a surprise last minute witness.  Or by “putting the system on trial!”  Or by having Henry Fonda hang a jury.  Or by Clarence Darrow giving a nine hour summation that brings the jury to tears and has the Judge apologizing to you.  Or by having Jack Nicholson scream about how poorly he feels you can handle the truth.

And in such rare cases as you might, well, the attorney you got, that’s his job to know, so if he’s not mentioning it, then yeah, it is unlikely to exist.

Also, the above should not be took to mean that you automatically cave.  It's just a random example.

If it’s truly a bad bust, something like “sassing a cop in the third degree” or “driving while black” or “wrong time, wrong place” then you might wish to fight.  That will be between you and your attorney, and will be based far more on what you can afford then any fine issue of moral/legal right and wrong.

And of course, none of the above advice changes the fact that you NEVER make it easy for the cops and DA by talking, answering questions or making a statement.  Even if you’re innocent.

Especially if you’re innocent.

Always shut up.  Always get a lawyer.  Always then do what the lawyer says.

(I told you that was not only my first, but last advice!)