Several of you who follow me on facebook, know that when I'm not beer commissioning, I work as a legal eagle, and I frequently post my Tales from the Courthouse.  I have literally received hundreds of emails from people asking me to write a book, which I've pretty much knocked out.  Of course, it isn't published, and there isn't exactly a line forming at my door seeking to publish it, but in any event...it exists.  For those of you who are interested, I'm going to post just one little story from the book.  Feel free to comment, good, bad or indifferent. I hope you enjoy!

I see my son dealin’ DRUGGGGGGGGS!

            I was appointed to represent a man who was charged with distribution of cocaine.  He had just been released on parole after serving 8 years on a 10 year sentence.  When a person is on parole, they are in effect, on probation, and if they get in trouble during their parole time, they risk being revoked and having to do the balance of their sentence.

            This particular client was arrested for distribution of cocaine a day or two after he was released from jail on his previous sentence.  When I went to see my client in jail, he told me, he wouldn’t deal drugs, because he just got out of jail, and ‘he’d be stupid to commit another crime and go right back.’  One thing I always believe is when my clients tell me they are stupid.  If they ever raise the stupid argument, I just assume that is in fact what we are dealing with, and start working from there.

            In this particular case, the client happened to sell his cocaine to an undercover police officer, and the entire crime, was conveniently on video tape.  “Fortunately” my client had an alibi.  He had his momma, who swore up and down her son was with her, when the crime in fact went down.  His momma told me, “she was braid’n his hair”. 

            I watched the video of the crime with my client, and the video was not great quality, and the guy in the video had a big afro, and my client had braids.  I certainly couldn't tell beyond a reasonable doubt it was my client.  My client continued to insist it wasn’t him in the tape, and momma continued to insist my client was with her at the exact time the alleged drug deal went down.

            The assistant DA offered a plea deal of 2 years, essentially allowing my client to revoke his parole, do his remaining 2 years, and then drop the new charges.  I recommended to my client he take the plea deal, in light of all the other evidence against him. The risk of going to trial and being found guilty meant getting as much as 50 years on a sentence.  My client, of course, rejected the deal, because that was the stupid thing to do, and we went to trial.

            The trial was a disaster in every way possible.  The police had done everything perfectly. When they arrested my client he had their marked money on his person, the officer positively identified my client.  My only hope was that momma could sway the jury.  I put momma on the stand, and she testified she was braid’n her son’s hair, and he was with her at the time of the crime.  On cross examination, the district attorney played the video tape for the momma.  The district attorney asked momma, what do you see in that video?  Momma responded, “I see my son dealin’ druggggggs!”  My client is eligible for parole in 42 years.