Trial day 14. 

Lululemon dress day 3 of 5 returns to court.  JHB has been outfitted with the big podium and a comfortable stool.  The podium is directly between our parallel tables.  He would be on top of our clients.  I sit below him instead.  They move back.  Out of the way.

JHB has had all night to prepare.  And we all settle in.  Judge Kn addresses us.  Are we ready.  And we both say yes. 

He begins slowly.  Reading the intro jury instruction.  Says he’s sorry for making the mistake of saying that our expert was not on his University website.  Says’s he’s sorry because he’s been told that his eyes make too many expressions and he just can’t control them. Tells them he’s tried over 360 cases and this one may be his last. That his closing will address my opening.  He took notes.  And he will address what I said.  He shows them his note pad.  I’m still giving him the benefit of the doubt.  Slow start.  He will bring it on.  He’s had all night.

But he is derailed.  He is not telling a story.  He is too focused on his absolute hatred of me. 

I’ve never understood why he dislikes me so much on a personal level.  We got along decently in the beginning.  Until I took the deposition of his client interrogation style.  Coldly.  Ruthlessly.  Relentlessly.

He would send me emails that at first I thought were jokes because no one could say something so rude and mean.  But eventually I learned they were not meant in anything but the worst way.  I responded to his bullying with my own form of attack.  Poking him back.  Hitting his vanity button. 

Today he cannot separate out his hatred of me and the defense of his client.  His closing is disjointed and filled with personal attacks.  A few against my clients.  But most against me.  He is getting ready to read the will.  It will be one of his better moments because he does read well.  But in that lead up, I say:  Your honor sidebar.

JHB says:  no.

The Court looks at me uncertainly.  I say: Your honor sidebar.

Judge K calls a sidebar.

Have never called a sidebar in the middle of someone’s closing before.  But this case is a beast of its own.

Say:  Your honor.  At the beginning of this case, I brought a motion asking that defendant and her attorney not call Mr. Mc by his first name.  Mr. Browne is calling him T.  He is Mr. Mc.  I don’t call him T and I represent his estate.  It is a matter of respect.

JHB mumbles – I thought you said I just wasn’t to call him Mac.

Judge K mumbles and says…I’m not going to order it.

We walk back.

Now JHB knows what it feels like.  To be interrupted in the middle of your closing.  Though honestly I didn’t do it for that purpose.  At least not consciously.  I owe it to my clients to have their dad treated with respect.  JHB wasn’t friends with him.  He has no right to be familiar with him. 

JHB returns to his stool and says.  I’m too old for this.  I don’t want to do this anymore.  He chokes up.  Takes a drink of water.  And tries to regroup.   Am thinking:  did he just cry in front of the jury over me telling him to stop calling J Mc - T.

He begins to read T Mc’s will in his resonate voice.  It is clear as day Mr. Mc gave everything to his niece in 2012.  JHB ends with:  T (pause) Mc’s spirit is in this courtroom.  A godlike pronouncement – let his will be done.

He is now ready for his grand moment – the highlight of his presentation.  Takes the deposition clip of his client that we played at the beginning of trial -  and plays it again.  But this time with an introduction.

The introduction hits me with physical force.  It starts with an appeal to the jury:  We are all Americans… he says.  And as I sit there in a rural American courtroom, a biracial female attorney with her biracial associate.  It feels like something out of the 60s.  Because this preface is leading up to the video.  A video which he sees as the essence of this case.  An UnAmerican interview by me of his poor grieving American niece widow client.    He is using his mobile face to appeal to the jurors:  who is that woman to talk to an American like that.

He pulls a laptop that he just bought for this purpose out.  Holds it up facing the jury.  It has about a 10” screen.  Holds it next to the microphone on the podium.  And begins.  Several jurors say they can’t hear it.  He looks at Furhad and I.  Says:  they won’t play it for me.  And struggles to hold it aloft for the next 5 minutes.  When it is done.  He condemns me.  Says:  THAT was CRUEL.  As he shoots a glare my UnAmerican way.

The best thing he does is to read the will.  But there is nothing holding anything else together.  His strategy is to pick me apart.  Instead of coming up with his own theme. 

He sits down.

I’ve already decided will not do my typical 5 minute rebuttal.  It is 10:15.  Judge K says – we’ll take a break at 10:30 do you want to start.  And I say:  I will not start and be interrupted with a break.  Repeat this because he doesn’t understand the first time.  We take a break.

Pull out a dozen sticky notes that have a few words written on each one. 

When the jury returns.  Go through my points quickly.  Building momentum.  And I invite the jury: To the Follow the blood as it flowed onto the rocks away from the deck.  Follow the blood to where he was placed.  Flowing down the gentle slope of the deck that he had built.  Follow that blood if Def had been spooning him.  His hair touching her face.   Follow that blood that would have been covering her face and hair.  Follow that blood all the way to this courtroom.  Yes T Mc’s spirit is here today.

End.

Do not say good bye to JHB or his client.  Do not say goodbye to Judge K.  Say goodbye to the clerk and court reporter and jury coordinator. 

It is 11:00 a.m.

What I want to do now is get in the car and drive home.

Furhad and I walk over across the street to thank the law firm for their graciousness and support. 

Then we drive 5 miles out of town to the house that C Mc built for his mother and her husband 8 years ago.  A stunning house on a nearby hilltop with a vista view of the rolling desert hills.  It is J Mc’s birthday.  The family gathers.  Mom and husband are making a pile of delicious food.   Change out of my old clothes.  Socialize.  There is no sigh of relief.  We are tense.  But we are done.  Mr. Mc’s story was heard.  It is time to eat and mom says a prayer.  Of gratitude.  For wisdom for the jurors.  Of love or her family. 

Am the first to leave.  Want to get over the pass in case a verdict comes in.  Furhad will stay.

This as always is the part I cannot stand.  The second am done with trial do not want to have to face the wait and announcement of the verdict.  Before leaving Mom’s house they have us all write out when we think the verdict will come in.  I say Monday at 11.  Am going to be wrong.

The earlier the verdict the worse it will be.  Isn’t that right.  Can you make a generality.  I don’t know.  Stopped guessing long ago.

Get in car.  Drive.  Am listening to The Personal Librarian book on audible.  Cruising.  2:41 pm.  Phone rings.  It is Ed.  One of the jury shepherds.  He says:  they have a verdict.   Thank you I say.  Hang up.

Stomach plummets.  If you take out an hour for lunch they deliberated two and a half hours.  Call Furhad.  Say: they have a verdict.  Can hear clients and their family in the background.  Gasping.  Voices exclaiming.  They are going to head over.  Tell Furhad: am in the mountains.  You need to tell the judge to poll the jury.  I won’t have  good enough reception.  Am going to try to make it to North Bend.   He says: you can make it.

Floor it.

Pull into parking space.  Pull up Webex link.  Hit join.  Phone needs to add the app.  Hit join. 

Judge K is already polling the jury on the first question which I don’t remember what it is.  Have to wait a few minutes until he cycles through.  Am trying to see if I can tell whether it’s good or bad by body language.  Cannot figure out how to make the view bigger – courtroom is just one of several boxes.  Can see the back of JHB’s head.  Furhad, J Mc and C Mc are facing jury.  They are microscopic.

Judge K announces the second question.  If you answered yes to…

And am thinking – did they answer yes…

…if so, was the battery a proximate cause of T Mc’s death. 

Start to hyperventilate.  Yes yes yes yes they say as he polls them.  Gets to the second question:  was the killing lawful and willful... yes yes yes.

And by then am absolutely out of breath.  Sobbing in the car.  So hard am shaking.  They heard us.  They didn’t fall for the diversionary attacks.  They believed in this family. 

They award every dollar that we ask for and no more just like we ask for.  The value of everything that was taken.  Because no amount of money would ever be enough to measure their love for their dad.

$70,000 for the estate.  $1.8M for T Mc. $775K for J Mc.  $775K for C Mc.

Put my head down and breathe deeply.

Call Furhad.  Tell him to talk to the jurors who want to then call me back.

Get back on the road and continue driving.  Making calls.  So grateful.

Later Furhad and the clients both tell me this.  The vote was 11 – 1.  The sole holdout being the former marine in the front row.  One of the female jurors said she was also a no.  But my closing yesterday changed her mind.

What a privilege to represent this family.

For everyone who helped on this case thank you.  Andrew Ackley – who did more workup than I from day one through seven years.  Furhad Sultani – for his role as my trusted second – a role he rocked after only 6 months as a member of the bar.  Anne Roberson – adored paralegal who was there at the beginning.  Debbie Watts – the wonderful paralegal who supported Anne – the two of them in lockstep all the way. Shannon Kilpatrick – who wrote with Andrew’s input, the jury instructions, trial brief, MILs, etc. and made sure that this case was going to be rock solid in the event of an appeal.  To everyone else at Stritmatter Kessler Koehler Moore – who supported us, covered for us.  And to my children and family who through Webex were able to watch this trial and give me support and care every step of the way.

 Photo: My 12 rebuttal argument sticky notes.