Coquille, Oregon, late February 1996, continued…
You know you’re in the throes of depression when you can’t even jerk off anymore. That’s where I found myself as the end of February neared. Don’t get me wrong, at just 26 years old, I was at my horny prime, and my gear was working just fine. The problem was I couldn’t seem to be able to finish if I tried. That was the exact worse kind of frustration that I needed at the time for my self-esteem. The hottest centerfolds would easily remind me of her at the last moment, ruining it. Even the goddamn letters in Penthouse started to read like twisted police reports, making that a dead end, too. I was also so intensely busy with work that I didn’t have time to even think of dating. Worse, I was still too broke to go out even if I had the time and a girl to go out with.
I knew I had to get out of my funk, so I agreed to go on a blind date with a friend of one of my former co-workers in the Juvenile Department. They still loved me over there, and I had received several offers from the ladies in Juvy to arrange a date for me. That was never my thing, so I always declined. Until now. I agreed to give this girl a call and see what happened. I needed a change.
When I called “Tiffany,” it was awkward for a bit before the stupid nervous teenager in me wore off. We had a pleasant chat and agreed to meet for a lunch date later in the week. That was good because I needed to focus on a trial before then – my second DUII trial against the man who kicked my ass in my first ever DUII trial, Mr. Frank Ford.
The defendant was on his third DUII arrest in less than a year. With Mr. Ford’s legal help, he had beaten the last one at trial against our new rookie prosecutor, Chloe, just a few weeks before (it was her first DUII trial, so I could relate). Being a lunk-head, the defendant (I’ll call him “Dean Johnson”) refused a reasonable plea offer of two days jail, plus the standard DUII sentencing provisions (alcohol eval and treatment, probation for two years, no going to bars or consuming alcohol while on probation, etc.). The dumbass had a BAC of .18, over twice the legal threshold of presumed intoxication, but he had confidence in Ford’s ability to get him off. This defendant brought a new twist for a DUII trial - his own witness, a friend who been with the defendant at the time of his arrest.
Against almost any other attorney in Coos County at the time, the case would have been a locked-in win. But I was going against the best criminal defender in the County, maybe even the whole State. That he was totally full of shit most of the time was beside the point - his win record was all that mattered. I had to know the facts of the case inside and out. More importantly, I had to be ready for any kind of bullshit imaginable to get slung around from Mr. Ford and not get thrown off in presenting my case. I had had at least a couple dozen DUII jury trials under my belt since I last battled Ford, and my trial skills and legal knowledge had grown tremendously since then. He would not chump me again.
This trial was to be held in the District Court Annex in North Bend with Judge Gaines presiding. She wasn’t the best judge and she had a clear leaning toward the defense side (she was a former public defender), which increased the chances of Frank Ford pulling some questionable tactics in court and getting away with it.
I met the arresting police officer as soon as I arrived at the Court. I was disappointed immediately to see him dressed in civilian clothing – his police uniform would have given added credibility to his testimony. Most people on juries want to believe the police are telling the truth, and the more we could do to help project that sense of authority and credibility, the better. On the plus side, he was a certified Intoxilyzer 5000 expert, meaning there would be no chance for a “little whiskey in my Copenhagen” defense that would stand up if they offered it.
Jury selection took up the entire morning. I had more experience with picking DUII juries now, and I took my time with this jury pool. I wanted to flush out as many potential bad jurors for my case as I could, like retired teachers or anti-government types. Ford, for his part, got rid of anyone with a bent toward law enforcement, like the fireman and a postal worker. We both argued with the Judge over a few members of the jury pool about whether to dismiss those potential jurors for cause, chewing up more time. In the end, our final six jurors had a lower average age than my last trial with Ford, closer to 45 than 75, with all of them either employed or their spouses were employed. They could all be considered “normal citizens” (i.e., no retirees, long-term unemployed folks, druggies, drunks or general losers). It appeared to be as fair a jury as I could find amongst the pool.
Then I asked the Court for sequestration of the witnesses to keep the defendant’s buddy, Rex, out of the courtroom during the testimony phase of the trial. I knew “Rex” was only there to try to help his buddy lie his way out of it. I didn’t want the slimy piece of shit listening to the other witnesses and adjusting his testimony accordingly. Though I didn’t put it in those terms, the Motion was granted. The 29-year-old friend of the defendant was told by the Judge to wait outside the courtroom until summoned by the bailiff.
After a short bathroom break, the Judge welcomed the jury, thanked them for their service, and read the initial jury instructions. Then it was time for some prosecuting.
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