Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

Before You Accuse Me

Last time I saw my client before this morning was a couple months ago. His wife retained me. I showed up in court. He had been in jail for a week. Time in jail tends to make people look drawn and haggard. The case was from 1992. He thought he was released from probation in 1995, moved to Indiana to get away from his ex-wife, then moved back into the area a couple years ago. He was stopped for a bad tail light, and it turns out that there was a warrant out for him. He was not released from probation like his lawyer told him back in 1995. So, it looked like he was on the lam for 9 years. And he had been a law-abiding citizen for 12 years, since he pled guilty in 1992. His ex-wife asked if she could deposit some checks in his accounts ... turns out the checks were state welfare checks. She was convicted of welfare fraud and served time. He got probation on a reduced charge since there was a question of whether he knew about the fraud or was just a nice guy.

I got him out on bond on the probation violation charge. He still owed some money for court costs and administrative fees. He paid that. Today was the hearing to determine whether or not he should be sent to prison for violating his probation. The judge ended up terminating the probation and dismissing the probation violation charge.

But that's not the story. This morning, I picked up the certified copies from the accounting department at the clerk's office to show that there was no balance owing to go along with the criminal record check that the probation department did; so, I was a few minutes late.

I ran into a lawyer as I was getting out of the elevator. She told me that my client was looking for me. She was smiling and said that he was "a very nice man." Well, he had that going for him, I guess.

In the hallway outside the courtroom, another lawyer mentioned that my client was in the courtroom waiting for me. He asked, "Think he'd mind if I stuck around and you could introduce me?" I said that I didn't think it was a problem.

What the fuck?

So, I went into the courtroom. My client was all cleaned up and wearing a nice suit ... looked exactly like Eric Clapton. Uncanny it was. Scary. On our way out of the building, a woman asked for his autograph. He said he gets it all the time and people don't believe him, even though he doesn't have the accent. And I did introduce him to that lawyer, by the way. He said it would make a good story.

Posted by Bill at December 3, 2004 12:03 PM