TO WIT: THE BEST OF FRIENDS
I ought just as well admit that even after a fair number of years in the profession, I still believe in the pursuit of truth and justice, although more now on behalf of my clients than as a general proposition. So eager am I to see to it that my clients obtain truth and justice, I yet look for every little advantage, the better with which to secure for them whatever particular variation of that goal the system may choose to deliver.
Accordingly, I am pleased to have finally arrived at that stage of my career when so many of my close professional contemporaries have become judges, for there is no better path to truth and justice than a friend on the Bench.
Oh now, don’t get me wrong. I do not mean to imply, here in print, that I expect consciously preferential treatment from a friend who is an elected member of the judiciary, elected in fair measure at my expense, simply because we may have attended the same law school at the same time. I do not expect special attention simply because, quite by chance, we might have sat next to each other in every class for three straight years, or because it just so happens that we have formed an irrevocable bond of comradery and affection as our careers have developed over many years, or because we have had as many lunches together as our busy schedules have permitted. Perish forbid.
No, no, it’s just that I anticipate an ear that is a tad more attune to the force of my argument and a mind oh so slightly more cognizant of the notions that my clients deserve justice and my kids a college education. After all, despite the judiciary, someone still has to win, and it might just as easily be a friend as not.
I recently had the great fortune to appear before just such a His Honor on behalf of the Plaintiff in a tragic but otherwise nifty little products liability case. Oh, and His Honor looked so regal, so majestic as he glided into chambers where counsel had assembled pre-trial, his long black judicial robe flowing elegantly behind him as he emerged from the bathroom. In what was obviously an effort to give the proper appearance of impartiality, he ignored my presence.
“Can it be settled?” he asked, and I detected in his tone the unmistakable trace of a spiritual wink. Life can be so good.
“If you gentlemen will excuse me, let me speak in private to Plaintiff’s counsel,” he said, and I was at once sorry I had bothered to subpoena my witnesses.
“How’s the wife and kids?” I inquired as soon as we were alone.
“I know what your demand is, but what are you really looking for on this case?” he asked, addressing me as mister, although there was no one else in the room. Like me, he never trusted defense counsel, and he must have suspected they were just outside in the corridor with all of their ears pressed up closely against the door. I caught on right away, and rather than speak in multi-syllabic words, I wrote my real demand on a pad, adding but one superfluous zero, for we were friends.
He immediately called defense counsel back into chambers, and I got up to leave. “The parties are so far apart,” he announced, “I see no point in wasting the Court’s time with additional negotiations. Let’s pick a jury.”
Clever, he was so clever, planning to use the jury to do it. And he was so smooth in the courtroom, overruling every one of my objections and sustaining all of theirs. In the face of such unbridled apparent impartiality, I could hardly contain my glee. At first I thought he took the impartiality a bit too far when he granted their motion for a compulsory non-suit and it took even me a while to grasp the brilliant subtlety of his plan. While he now steadfastly refuses to talk to me about anything, I understand. Now I must go to the appellate court. When the indescribably judicious body reviews this case, they will for certain send it back for re-trial, where defense counsel will be laboring under the insurmountable disadvantage of trying to get it right twice in a row. What a guy.
In this business, friendship is an oasis in the desert of adversary proceedings. It’s true enough that I now find myself in the appellate court, and while some may find that an unmixed blessing, I, on the other hand, am grateful for the favor. I have no doubt that I could, if I absolutely had to, win this case on its merits. Therefore, reliance on a helping hand in the otherwise time-consuming pursuit of truth and justice troubles me not a whit. Should I never be so fortunate to sit on the Bench, I will look back on the kindness shown me with remembrance, and when you, my many close friends at the Bar, appear before me, I will, in my turn, take care of you too. What else are friends for?
© 1983 – S. Sponte, Esq.